Bengaluru In March.

fake it till you make it i guess. carry your head high, shoulders back and romanticize your day (or try to). and one day you'll just get there.

How the fuck do I achieve confidence and... *mumbling* self love...? Sounds made up.

Anyways yeah how do I get that?

some people in india are illiterate and can't read, which is why there are symbols denoting numbers on the coins. it's not some cutesy design, i think they were trying to be inclusive.

say what you will about the reserve bank of india these are some cracking coins

so I got into grad school today with my shitty 2.8 gpa and the moral of the story is reblog those good luck posts for the love of god

Reasons Why a Country is Just a Giant Club:

To join, one must pay a fee, have their background checked, and only then receive a membership card.

One must pay a 'maintainance fee' (taxes) to enjoy certain rights within the club. One does not know where all of this money goes.

The representative and leader of the club is a blithering fool who you don't like.

Multiple Headquarters throughout the area.

The chief characteristic of the club is it's chief grievance.

sometimes i just want to go up in someone's face when they ignore me

she's a villainess??? wrong. she's my special little girl with her enriching little hobbies. only a few people died anyway

Tuesday February 7.

The Chosen One: Vanilla Extract.

The hero we need and deserve right now. Ever been making a cake, and then baking a cake, and then consuming a cake, a cake you will subsequently defecate, when you've been haunted by that strangest of feelings that something just isn't quite right? That something is missing. That within this process there has been a void beyond that of the baking process: a void that is not just culinary, but spiritual. It's good, but it's not right. You made it as instructed, and it looks good, and tastes fine too. The good people around you have also taken a fork, which they have politely, and apparently sincerely, enjoyed. One even took a picture which they will later upload on Instagram, with crude, flashing animations of cakes, and captions reading: Cake time! Yum!. The words jump merrily from side to side in neon colors and the cake rests handsomely, with several slices missing. But you know, they know it. It is evident in their expressions: the light is dimmed in their smiles somewhat. They too possess something unshakeable in this mouthful. Something here is left to be desired, and desire as Robert Hass ruminates, is full of endless distances. Hold the f*cking phone, someone says, their eyes suddenly luminous. I know what this needs: #vanilla extract. 

start sexualizing q tips

people on tumblr be like 'hear me out 😚' and it is The Goo