Archives for the Date February 12th, 2018


Tessa Virtue-Scott Moir J.J.O.O. PyeongChang 2018 February 12, 2018 at 11:21PM

3:33 Come what may跳起,可以把場館炸開,一道金光從天上直射,你幾乎撐不開眼睛,但你看見時間和空間壓縮在那一躍之間。 from Facebook via IFTTT

Bigger Than The Walls That Hide Us (wpsstories: writing-prompt-s: after dying god…) February 12, 2018 at 07:08PM

“after dying, god informs you that hell is a myth, and “everyone sins, its ok”. instead the dead are sorted into six “houses of heaven” based on the sins they chose.” from Facebook via IFTTT

How Binge-Watching Outlander Helped My Marriage February 12, 2018 at 01:28PM

My hubs and my BFF are watching Outlander and I’m one lucky woman. “The whole premise may sound a wee farfetched, and, at first, I was just as skeptical as my husband (I didn’t tell him, though). But three episodes in, and we were hooked. The series is basically Braveheart meets A Wrinkle in Time […]


“Everything is more complicated than you think. You only see a tenth of what is true. There are a…”

“Everything is more complicated than you think. You only see a tenth of what is true. There are a million little strings attached to every choice you make; you can destroy your life every time you choose. But maybe you won’t know for twenty years. And you may never ever trace it to its source. And you only get one chance to play it out. And they say there is no fate, but there is: it’s what you create. And even though the world goes on for eons and eons, you are only here for a fraction of a fraction of a second. Most of your time is spent being dead or not yet born. But while alive, you wait in vain, wasting years, for a phone call or a letter or a look from someone or something to make it all right. And it never comes, or it seems to, but it doesn’t really. And so you spend your time in vague regret or vaguer hope that something good will come along. Something to make you feel connected, something to make you feel whole, something to make you feel loved. And the truth is I feel so angry, and the truth is I feel so fucking sad, and the truth is I’ve felt so fucking hurt for so fucking long and for just as long I’ve been pretending I’m okay, just to get along, just for, I don’t know why, maybe because no one wants to hear about my misery, because they have their own. Well, fuck everybody. Amen.”

Pastor,  from 
Charlie Kaufman‘s Synecdoche, New York

(via orwell)

AWSOM Powered