"Hope" is the thing with feathers— That perches in the soul— And sings the tune without the words— And never stops—at all— And sweetest—in the Gale—is heard— And sore must be the storm— That could abash the little Bird That kept so many warm— I've heard it in the chillest land— And on the strangest Sea— Yet, never, in Extremity, It asked a crumb—of Me. Emily Dickinson
There’s one part of me that’s like: You should do your work, and then you wouldn’t be so stressed, and you would feel a great sense of accomplishment, and you’d have free time when you’re finished. But then there’s this other part of me that’s like: No. They both make such good arguments. tumblr
one time we got a new kid in fifth grade and he walks right in and sticks his hand under the stapler and staples his hand and just looks at the teacher and goes “I’m going to the nurse” and leaves tumblr ;)
Guys. I just watched a movie about a man whose wife is brutally murdered and his son is left physically disabled. Then, in a twisted turn of events, his son is kidnapped. The man has to chase the kidnapper thousands of miles with the help of a mentally disabled woman. Finding Nemo is a real thriller.
G u y s, I'm s o s i c k o f t h i s. I'm almost 20 and I haven't been able to score a job better than a lame cook at a local fast food joint. This town is so small that it's the only place that will hire high school graduates. I'd get out of this crappy town if I could drived, but unfortunately I've failed every test I've ever taken. I'm socially awkward, and even my only coworker hates my guts. I have a repressed love for one of my best friends, too; she's gorgeous, smart, athletic, and a real southern bell. I love her. But you know how it is; friendzoned as always. She's my only friend, beside this one kid who I'm pretty sure just clings to me because he's mentally challenged. I guess he's the only one that can tolerate me. What makes it even worse is that I live in a freaking pineapple under the sea.