As noted in the bloggy description thingy, this blog is from the perspective of a fictional character which was interesting for a writing exercise but just having this is kind of inhibiting to my tumblrey tumbling activities, so I’m going to be using borderlinemysticismdisorder.tumblr.com as my personal blog. I’ll have book stuff still, but also little “This is how I am right now” posts and things I reblog and poems from my old blog that I forgot the password to and stuff.

szymon:

Iran president Mahmoud Ahmadinejad declared a ban on key American companies like Coca-Cola? Icy And Sot have coke for you In Tabriz, Iran

lionskeleton:

Undertow by Cur3es!

I feel the same way as you do.

arvidabystrom:

love this. haha too much. who made this? anyone knows?

I love staring at this and just trying to figure out all the different elements to it. Like, it seems to be a statement of some sort, and there’s the obvious symbols, but then like, it just keeps going. What I’m really thinking about is why the pelican has a crown. And I mean, it’s just so weird looking. Today has been an awesome week for seeing things that I don’t feel like I’ve seen before.

ambrrosia:

laserscrewdriver:

AVENGE ME HAMLET
FOR I WAS KILLED BY YOUR UNCLE, AND MY BROTHER 

wait everything about this is so perfect

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EIt7TCp15-I

areu:

ALL THOSE EELS

WHERE DID THEY COME FROM

xjubella:

mesataweh:

This is the remarkable moment when a tiger bowed its head and placed a paw up to the hand of a small girl.

Photographer Dyrk Daniels noticed the 370lb Golden Bengal Tiger had taken an interest in the child, who was leaning against his glass enclosure.

As the tiger, called Taj, headed over to her, Mr Daniels got his camera ready, expecting him to snarl and bang against the glass.

‘I noticed that Taj had taken an interest in the girl and was heading towards her.

‘I thought for certain that the little girl would need therapy after the encounter and fear cats for the rest of her life.

‘I could not believe my eyes when Taj approached the girl, bowed his head and then placed his huge right paw exactly in front of where the little girl’s left hand was.

‘It was incredible to watch. Taj let down his right paw, rubbed his cheek against the glass where the little girl’s face was and moved off.’

Far from being scared, the little girl was so excited that she started clapping as she walked back afterwards towards her mother. 

‘I have never seen such tenderness from such a large predator,’ Mr Daniels said.

Higher levels of consciousness are spreading, and not just with humans.

….LOOK AT THAT THINGS PAW OH MY GOD GIVE IT TO ME

i-bring-my-own-wine-glass:

It’s scary to me, how much this song means to me. Scary in the sense that I don’t like putting my eggs in one basket. The way I see things, the way I feel things, has always been this way. I love one band too much, one person too much. A lot of me growing up and becoming who I am today has been trusting that there is a beauty in not doing this. That living in the moment, avoiding putting these eggs in one basket is, in itself, a thing to celebrate. It’s something I’m not the best at. Do I love Vancouver? Montreal? Toronto? Where do I place my loyalties? This demo is sung the way the song was intended: Earnestly. Feist sings it without pretense, without backing vocals. Just this lonely girl, falling in love in some hole-in-the-wall apartment on Queen Street. There’s a sort of beauty in that, I think. That she really was second-floor living without a home. Listen to this with the blankets pulled up around your head. Imagine singing your heart into a four track recorder and hearing it, over, and over, for the rest of your life. Imagine never growing tired of this.

This person’s writing is absolutely enchanting, both the style and the things she thinks about. I really recommend checking out her blog. On Tumblr I kind of get the feeling sometimes that if one takes in a large amount of art they quickly find it to all be variations of the same information combined in ways that are fundamentally not able to be very different from eachother, but this stuff has a wonderfully intelligent, truly unique feel to it. I think it gets at a lot of stuff that people don’t get at very often.

i-bring-my-own-wine-glass:

en route

. 

“This is the first time I’ve driven with you.”

What he was saying: this is a first, the first step out the window, the first brick to my grandfather’s grave.

What I was thinking: oh but cars have such power, the day’s light is spent, the road is slick. I maintain my speed. The things we place in front of us slip behind us.

.

 “I want you to see this tunnel. We’re going under the river.”

What I was saying: radio waves cannot travel where we are. The music that drowned out the night’s silence has been reduced to a simmer. The light bulbs are dimming. I am unsure of things.

What he was not thinking: the water above us is loud. It is slowing, releasing the silt and forming the lowlands. The tunnel is making us think of this.

.

“Look out beyond the trees. This is the water I have run to. The water I have thought to be something to run to. This is where I’ve imagined I would die.”

What I was saying: It is too dark for him to see the water. I am trusting certain things by telling him it is there. I can sense it though, the feeling I get when I bite my tongue, the dark void of it.

What he was thinking: I cannot see through the trees.

.

“This is my room.”

“This is the book I read each night when my bed felt as though suspended in water”

“These are the things I have made.”

What we were thinking: It will not be dark for much longer.

.

(photo: joel semczyszyn)