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I feel educated

Where was this when I was in calculus
Apr 22, 2014 / 101,378 notes



I feel educated

Where was this when I was in calculus

(via crrice)

We have kept saying ‘never again,’ but it keeps on happening, again and again—in Syria today, in the Central African Republic tomorrow. Without an idea of action, that sense of solidarity atrophies.
George Packer on genocides, remembered and forgotten: (via newyorker)

(via newyorker)

Apr 8, 2014 / 824 notes
Apr 4, 2014 / 4,919 notes
Apr 4, 2014 / 73,298 notes

Pablo neruda en We Heart It.
Mar 27, 2014 / 456 notes
Mar 27, 2014 / 565 notes
I’ve been hurt so bad and I still love so hard. I admire my heart for that.
Mar 27, 2014 / 20,602 notes
Mar 27, 2014 / 246,517 notes



This was meant to be a quick warm up, but it turned into a comic that I’ve wanted to draw for a while. This is something that is extremely important to me, and I appreciate it if you read it.

A while ago, I heard a story that broke my heart. A family went a cat shelter to adopt. The daughter fell in love with a 3-legged cat. The father straight up said “absolutely not”. Because he was missing a leg. That cat was that close to having a family that loved him, but the missing leg held him back. Why?!

Many people have the initial instinct of “nope” when they see an imperfect animal. I get it, but less-adoptable does NOT mean less loveable. 9 out of 10 people will choose a kitten over an adult cat. And those 10% that would get an adult cat often overlook “different” animals.

All I want people to do is be open to the idea of having a “different” pet in their lives. Choose the pet that you fall in love with, but at least give all of them a fair shot at winning your heart.

Don’t dismiss them, they deserve a loving home just as much as any other cat. They still purr, they still love a warm lap, they still play, they still love you. Trust me, next time you are in the market for a new kitty, just go over to that one cat that’s missing an eye and see what he’s all about!

This this this this

Mar 27, 2014 / 66,759 notes


I have seen the first photo a lot on tumblr and I thought I would tell you guys the story behind this house. Since I could remember this house has always been pink. It is a block away from my mothers job and my siblings and I were always amazed by it. A pink house in park slope. Beautiful.
Anyway the house was painted pink by a man who’s wife had lost her fight to breast cancer in honor of her. When he painted it pink as you could assume many people on the block were upset. Because it diminished the value property of the area.
The women in the first photo is Solange, Beyonce’s sister. I remember when she did the photoshoot there. My brother and I saw her on my way to see my mother and stopped to watch.
In the second photo is the house a week ago from today. Sadly the man died and the community took no time to repaint the house back to it’s original color which broke my heart.

(via n2v)

Mar 15, 2014 / 457 notes

I have this feeling, too.

People often mistake women’s tears for defeat, for weakness. Hers were not tears of surrender, but tears for the injustice of the world.
Sandra Cisneros, Caramelo (via throughthegardengates)
Mar 13, 2014 / 4,089 notes
Mar 10, 2014 / 898 notes


Mar 9, 2014 / 8,107 notes
Directly, or indirectly, everything we write is for someone.
Mar 9, 2014 / 138,262 notes
Mar 2, 2014 / 162,337 notes