Angela. 20. English Lit Major. Writer. Fangirl. Dreamer. Realist. Amateur actress. Full time dork. Awkward. Liar.
You were on your way home when you died.
It was a car accident. Nothing particularly remarkable, but fatal nonetheless. You left behind a wife and two children. It was a painless death. The EMTs tried their best to save you, but to no avail. Your body was so utterly shattered you were better off, trust me.
And that’s when you met me.
“What… what happened?” You asked. “Where am I?”
“You died,” I said, matter-of-factly. No point in mincing words.
“There was a… a truck and it was skidding…”
“Yup,” I said.
“I… I died?”
“Yup. But don’t feel bad about it. Everyone dies,” I said.
You looked around. There was nothingness. Just you and me. “What is this place?” You asked. “Is this the afterlife?”
“More or less,” I said.
“Are you god?” You asked.
“Yup,” I replied. “I’m God.”
“My kids… my wife,” you said.
“What about them?”
“Will they be all right?”
“That’s what I like to see,” I said. “You just died and your main concern is for your family. That’s good stuff right there.”
You looked at me with fascination. To you, I didn’t look like God. I just looked like some man. Or possibly a woman. Some vague authority figure, maybe. More of a grammar school teacher than the almighty.
“Don’t worry,” I said. “They’ll be fine. Your kids will remember you as perfect in every way. They didn’t have time to grow contempt for you. Your wife will cry on the outside, but will be secretly relieved. To be fair, your marriage was falling apart. If it’s any consolation, she’ll feel very guilty for feeling relieved.”
“Oh,” you said. “So what happens now? Do I go to heaven or hell or something?”
“Neither,” I said. “You’ll be reincarnated.”
“Ah,” you said. “So the Hindus were right,”
“All religions are right in their own way,” I said. “Walk with me.”
You followed along as we strode through the void. “Where are we going?”
“Nowhere in particular,” I said. “It’s just nice to walk while we talk.”
“So what’s the point, then?” You asked. “When I get reborn, I’ll just be a blank slate, right? A baby. So all my experiences and everything I did in this life won’t matter.”
“Not so!” I said. “You have within you all the knowledge and experiences of all your past lives. You just don’t remember them right now.”
I stopped walking and took you by the shoulders. “Your soul is more magnificent, beautiful, and gigantic than you can possibly imagine. A human mind can only contain a tiny fraction of what you are. It’s like sticking your finger in a glass of water to see if it’s hot or cold. You put a tiny part of yourself into the vessel, and when you bring it back out, you’ve gained all the experiences it had.
“You’ve been in a human for the last 48 years, so you haven’t stretched out yet and felt the rest of your immense consciousness. If we hung out here for long enough, you’d start remembering everything. But there’s no point to doing that between each life.”
“How many times have I been reincarnated, then?”
“Oh lots. Lots and lots. An in to lots of different lives.” I said. “This time around, you’ll be a Chinese peasant girl in 540 AD.”
“Wait, what?” You stammered. “You’re sending me back in time?”
“Well, I guess technically. Time, as you know it, only exists in your universe. Things are different where I come from.”
“Where you come from?” You said.
“Oh sure,” I explained “I come from somewhere. Somewhere else. And there are others like me. I know you’ll want to know what it’s like there, but honestly you wouldn’t understand.”
“Oh,” you said, a little let down. “But wait. If I get reincarnated to other places in time, I could have interacted with myself at some point.”
“Sure. Happens all the time. And with both lives only aware of their own lifespan you don’t even know it’s happening.”
“So what’s the point of it all?”
“Seriously?” I asked. “Seriously? You’re asking me for the meaning of life? Isn’t that a little stereotypical?”
“Well it’s a reasonable question,” you persisted.
I looked you in the eye. “The meaning of life, the reason I made this whole universe, is for you to mature.”
“You mean mankind? You want us to mature?”
“No, just you. I made this whole universe for you. With each new life you grow and mature and become a larger and greater intellect.”
“Just me? What about everyone else?”
“There is no one else,” I said. “In this universe, there’s just you and me.”
You stared blankly at me. “But all the people on earth…”
“All you. Different incarnations of you.”
“Wait. I’m everyone!?”
“Now you’re getting it,” I said, with a congratulatory slap on the back.
“I’m every human being who ever lived?”
“Or who will ever live, yes.”
“I’m Abraham Lincoln?”
“And you’re John Wilkes Booth, too,” I added.
“I’m Hitler?” You said, appalled.
“And you’re the millions he killed.”
“I’m Jesus?”
“And you’re everyone who followed him.”
You fell silent.
“Every time you victimized someone,” I said, “you were victimizing yourself. Every act of kindness you’ve done, you’ve done to yourself. Every happy and sad moment ever experienced by any human was, or will be, experienced by you.”
You thought for a long time.
“Why?” You asked me. “Why do all this?”
“Because someday, you will become like me. Because that’s what you are. You’re one of my kind. You’re my child.”
“Whoa,” you said, incredulous. “You mean I’m a god?”
“No. Not yet. You’re a fetus. You’re still growing. Once you’ve lived every human life throughout all time, you will have grown enough to be born.”
“So the whole universe,” you said, “it’s just…”
“An egg.” I answered. “Now it’s time for you to move on to your next life.”
And I sent you on your way.
O_O
yesss i found it again! one of my all time favourite reads.
Philosophy went to the max right here
OI SCROLL BACK UP AND READ ALL OF IT!
I was really intrigued by this
i actually started crying ok whoever made this is a genius
/casually vomits because no, nope, nope, stop that’s a really unhealthy attitude to have
/casually vomits because you don’t understand
Many of us were excluded, lonely and depressed before we joined any fandoms. We found refuge in the stories and comfort in the characters. We found people with similar interests and gained friends who understood and sympathized with us. When the stories hurt us we found solace in the fact that we are not alone in feeling this way. In many ways to many people these stories saved our lives. Some might have been pointing towards suicide, but maybe the Doctor and his story stopped some. That’s what matters, because we owe these stories our life. We owe it to the Doctor, the Winchesters, the Avengers and whatever fandom you might be in. They’re always there and always will be even when all others abandon us. I can honestly say that I was in deep depression before I started watching Doctor Who and the story very much pulled me from that place and changed who I am, made me who I am today. The 14,000 notes on this post show that I am not alone and none of us are.
Unhealthy is to reblog skinny and tanned girls like it’s a religion
Unhealthyis think depressed people have no reasons to be like that because they’re not starving
Unhealthyis to make people think they are not worth it because they’re either too fat or to skinny, or because they don’t dress fashionably so therefore they’re considered “ugly”
Unhealthy is to go through this unbelievably hard life without a single person caring about you
Unhealthyis to make fun of other people choices
Unhealthyis someone commenting on something they don’t understand, and worse, something they don’t want to understand
So next time think about what you’re doing before you open your mouth to say something so ignorant like that.
HEAR HEAR
Disney animator Heidi Gilbert recently put together this original animatic based on the Wicked musical in an attempt to see about having it done as an animated movie.
DO ANY OF YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW LONG I HAVE BEEN SEARCHING FOR THIS THING OF BEAUTY SINCE IT WAS TAKEN OFF OF YOUTUBE????????
AHJDJFFJLGD Chills! I didn’t know I wanted this to happen till now.
Saw this a few years ago. Just as good as making me WANT THIS LIKE WHOA now as it was then.
OMG IT’S BACK!
GDI I NEED THIS IN MY LIFE
(via candied-two-fold)
Let’s keep it real.
The recent surge in the adoration of curves has brought forth millions upon millions of images on tumblr, facebook, pinterest and hundreds of other websites to “represent” the rubenesque female form. While I fully support this movement in it’s body-positive direction I have become a little disheartened with the fact that there are people out there who are taking liberty to over-emphasize the curves and proportion of the women in these images.
While I understand that the beauty and fashion industries go to disgusting lengths to portray their ideal versions of beauty by clipping & trimming and erasing and air-brushing away any minute blemishes or imperfections, it is my opinion that the above portrayal (on the right) of Lucy Colett is a misrepresentation of what the curvy movement stands for.
Taking it from the extreme of making women appear thinner or taller to the next extreme of making them appear curvier or more voluptuous in my opinion, is not the answer. I feel that this type of manipulation just feeds directly back into the unrealistic ideal of beauty that the fashion industry & media have been cramming down our throats for years.
And lets face it, Lucy Collet (as capture by Gareth Davies) has bodacious curves in the original image.
When we stand FOR something, we should be aware of how we’re representing the cause. :) <3
The problem isn’t only portraying only one type of woman in medias, its portraying unrealistic women. Skinny, curvy, tall or short, if they’re digitally altered to make them something they’re not, it stilll gives a false idea of beauty.
It’s stuff like this that makes me feel self-conscious about my body. When the media feels the need to completely alter everyone- regardless of body size and shape- how are we even supposed to feel about our bodies? What sort of message are they trying to make here- that being natural and actually real (read: real being human and not digitally altered) is not beautiful?
I will gladly reblog this every time I see it. It’s a good message.
(via lachicakika)
This show is so sophisticated
This is never not funny
ten your nine is showing
(via forestofsam)
Doctor, this is why I love you. Right here.
Vincent van Gogh was a man who is somewhat famous for his mental instability. He later ended his own life. For the Doctor to go and show him that his art mattered, and that his existence mattered…is amazing. And I wish someone could have shown this amazing artist how much he contributed to the world.
I wish the Doctor could show everyone how they mattered, because everybody does matter. In our own small way, we change the world simply by existing.
I will always, always, ALWAYS reblog this when it’s on my dash.
(via obsessedobsesser)
Doctor, this is why I love you. Right here.
Vincent van Gogh was a man who is somewhat famous for his mental instability. He later ended his own life. For the Doctor to go and show him that his art mattered, and that his existence mattered…is amazing. And I wish someone could have shown this amazing artist how much he contributed to the world.
I wish the Doctor could show everyone how they mattered, because everybody does matter. In our own small way, we change the world simply by existing.
I will always, always, ALWAYS reblog this when it’s on my dash.
his face never fails to bring a lump to my throat
(via the-amasian)
(via permafrostislost)
The only Doctor Who character who was only in one episode and has his own fandom.
ALWAYS REBLOGThis is a must reblog everytime you see it, dont care if you reblogged it two seconds ago
(via dalekfreezone)
If this gets 200k notes by the time I graduate (June 2014), I’ll do this across the stage after receiving my nursing diploma.
Worthwhile cause.
there better be a damn video
i have NO regret reblogging this
There BETTER be a friggin’ video
I normally don’t reblog my own post but this was necessary.OH MY GOD PEOPLE I PROMISE THERE WILL BE A VIDEO.In the spirit of the series 7 trailer spam, EVERYONE REBLOG THIS NOW
(via timeladydimple)
heislikefireburningthroughtime:
And now I’m crying. The damn horrible, depressing picture of the poor TARDIS all alone and abandoned and in a state of disrepair wasn’t enough. You ha to write that.
Imagine coming across this one day.
On a totally normal, slightly bored walk in the woods.
Turning around the bend and seeing this.
Just imagine.
i’m not even a massive doctor who fan and this broke my heart
this like seeing hogwarts as a ruin (and not being a muggle, so you know it’s really a ruin)
or seeing 221b being rented out by some horrible college kids partying and being loud
or the impala being crushed and useless (wait, i’m not up-to-date with supernatural atm, but didn’t something bad actually happen to the impala? fuck that show is just heart-break central)
But imagine going to it. Letting your hands move across the paint, disrupting the plants around it and then
click
The door opens.
You’re walking through the woods on a wonderful day, when you turn around a corner and see something that makes your heart stop. Thoughts, memories, images flood your head, and you think over and over, No no no, it can’t be. It’s just a show, right? It can’t be. You don’t even realize it as you walk up to it, and you cautiously lay your hand on it.
When it actually comes in contact with the wood, your eyes widen. Oh my god. It’s here. It’s real. I’m not imagining it. but then you realize something else. It looks…sad. Worn down. As if it hadn’t moved in years. Tears fill your eyes. Oh, Doctor. Where are you?? What happened?? Your head leans on the door as you close your eyes, trying to keep yourself from crying. It’s so stupid, but…
You aren’t able to finish that thought. You hear a soft click, and the door opens, causing you to stumble forward. A pair of shoes enter your line of vision. You slowly look up, seeing slacks next, then a jacket over a button up shirt, a bow tie, and then…it’s him.
Your hand covers your mouth as your eyes widen, everything hitting you at once. Oh my god it’s him. Its him it’s him it’s him. Oh god everything was real. The angels, cybermen, daleks, oh god Rose and Martha and Donna and Amy and Rory, and Jack and oh god if Jacks real then Torchwood and Ianto and oh god. You don’t even realize youve just said all that out loud as he sets his hands on your shoulders. “Are you alright?? What you were saying…how did you know that??”
You are full on crying now, tears running down your cheeks, and you can’t help when you embrace him. “Oh my god it’s you and your real and you’ve saved Earth and everyone so many times and I can’t believe it and just thank you and Im sorry for all the bad stuff that happens.” He awkwardly hugs you back before you pull away and wipe at your face with your sleeve. “Uhm, sorry f-for that. It just, uhm…” you don’t know how to explain it. How important he is to you, how many amazing people you’ve met because of him, how much he inspires you, how much you look up to him. Heck, you’re probably insane right now.
The Doctor just looks at you for a moment before grabbing your hand and pulling you inside. Your eyes widen as you stare at the bright room and, “Oh god it’s bigger on the inside.”
He grins like a child when he hears that. “I love it when they say that!” He flits about the room as you stand there, wringing your hands out, knees shaking as you stare wide eyed at everything.
“Now!” he exclaims. “How would you,” he points at you, excited. “like to come for an adventure?”
You can’t get the words out fast enough. “Yes. Please, take me.”
YES.
FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF stop jerking my heartstrings with this sort of wonderful shit!
If this gets 200k notes by the time I graduate (June 2014), I’ll do this across the stage after receiving my nursing diploma.
Worthwhile cause.
there better be a damn video
i have NO regret reblogging this
There BETTER be a friggin’ video
I normally don’t reblog my own post but this was necessary.OH MY GOD PEOPLE I PROMISE THERE WILL BE A VIDEO.In the spirit of the series 7 trailer spam, EVERYONE REBLOG THIS NOW
(via dalekfreezone)
Anderson Cooper saving a boy in Haiti during a shooting. A slab of concrete was dropped of the boys head.
Anderson fucking Cooper, everyone.
Some journalists like to be strictly observers. they don’t intervene, they don’t participate. they just document what they see, even if what they see is terrible. But the way I see it, journalists don’t exist in a vacuum. They are human beings, living and working in a very human environment. And that humanity is essential in relating to their stories. When you lose your humanity, you lose any kind of journalistic integrity you have left.
#nevernotreblog
