What a wee little part of a person’s life are his acts and his words! His real life is led in his head, and is known to none but himself. Mark Twain
The Animal Rescue Site is having trouble getting enough people to click on it daily so they can meet their quota of getting FREE FOOD donated every day to abused and neglected animals in their shelters.
It takes less than a minute (only about 15 seconds actually) to go to their site and click on the purple box titled, ‘Click Here to Give - it’s FREE!’. Every click gives about .6 bowls of food to sheltered dogs. You can also click daily!
Keep in mind that this does not cost you a thing. Their corporate sponsors/advertisers use the number of daily visits to donate food to abandoned/neglected animals in exchange for advertising. [via.]
Go to the website HERE.
It’s just a click… takes about 1 or 2 seconds.
there’s no pop-up ads or anything on the site
just click it once and you’re done
if all of my followers click, it’s more than a few thousand meals so.. please?
(Source: hamandheroin)Permalink >violetwolves 153748 Notes
“If I should steal something from you, you can call a policeman and have me arrested. The law will punish the thief, and the government will return to you the stolen property, if possible, because the law forbids stealing. It says that no one has a right to take anything from you without your consent.
But your employer takes from you what you produce. The whole wealth produced by labor is taken by the capitalists and kept by them as their property.
The law says that your employer does not steal anything from you, because it is done with your consent. You have agreed to work for your boss for certain pay, he to have all that you produce. Because you consented to it, the law says that he does not steal anything from you.
But did you really consent?
When the highwayman holds his gun to your head, you turn your valuables over to him. You ‘consent’ all right, but you do so because you cannot help yourself, because you are compelled by his gun.
Are you not compelled to work for an employer? Your need compels you, just as the highwayman’s gun. You must live, and so must your wife and children. You can’t work for yourself, under the capitalist industrial system you must work for an employer. The factories, machinery, and tools belong to the employing class, so you must hire yourself out to that class in order to work and live. Whatever you work at, whoever your employer may be, it always comes to the same: you must work for him. You can’t help yourself You are compelled.
In this way the whole working class is compelled to work for the capitalist class. In this manner the workers are compelled to give up all the wealth they produce. The employers keep that wealth as their profit, while the worker gets only a wage, just enough to live on, so he can go on producing more wealth for his employer. Is that not cheating, robbery?”
(Source: america-wakiewakie)Permalink >violetwolves 490 Notes
This guy speaks the truth thou
(Source: kelhatescreeps)Permalink >violetwolves 365659 Notes
You deserve the kind of love you would give someone else.
Permalink >psychedelicfaith 24282 Notes☮nature, vintage, hippie blog☮ following back similar
I cannot believe in a God who wants to be praised all the time.
Types of people who romanticize small town life:
- People who didn’t grow up in small towns
#THE LOCALS AREN’T QUIRKY#THEY’RE RACIST
#THERE’S NOTHING TO DO
#EVERYONE’S ON DRUGS
Permalink >hungaryoak 5856 Notes
- Set up a movie theatre
- Plant a bunch of these giant allium flowers
- Build a super simple tree house
- Add a beer cooler to your patio table.
- Drill holes in your fence and fill with marbles.
- Turn an old bunk bed into a stargazing loft retreat.
- Make a giant Scrabble set
- Build a fire pit
- Build a giant hammock swing.
- Light up some wine bottle tiki torches for a nighttime party.
- Build a backyard beach.
- Sprout a sofa
- Go camping in your own backyard.
- Turn the tent into a pillow-filled reading nook.
- Replace the diving board with a trampoline.
- Build a teepee.
- Make these simple tables out of $30 whiskey barrels.
- Upcycle tires to make a jungle gym.
- Build a simple gazebo
- Create an outdoor tunnel system for your indoor cat.
- Make a simple canopy by stringing a rope between two trees and hanging sheets off of it.
- Build a backyard pizza oven.
- Construct this simple bar for outside entertaining.
- Build a stove for an outdoor kitchen with this Ikea hack.
- Put in a porch bed.
- Spray-paint a lawn Twister game.
- Fashion an amazing set of speakers using wooden salad bowls.
- A wooden pallet sectional is easy to put together and provides lots of extra seating for outdoor parties.
- Create an outdoor art haven by mounting a giant chalkboard against the fence
- Build a small outdoor greenhouse out of reclaimed storm windows.
- Make little hideouts of hula hoops and shower curtains.
I just watched a kid break down in the bookstore because his books for the semester totaled $600 and that’s the american university system in a nutshell
I was on the verge of tears when I got to the cashier so yeah, that’s messed up
NOTHING IS MORE PUNK THEN LETTING SMALL CHILDREN THINK UR COOL AND TOUCH YOUR HAIR SPIKES
(Source: marry-me-in-black)Permalink >freckledfitblr 206688 Notes
i would do this
(Source: pkae)Permalink >freckledfitblr 209335 Notes
Permalink >freckledfitblr 78235 Notes
"and that is why pink ribbons are for boobies." -hank green
Things I did not know until now. DAMNIT HITLER.
Yesterday, I spent 60 dollars on groceries,
took the bus home,
carried both bags with two good arms back to my studio apartment
and cooked myself dinner.
You and I may have different definitions of a good day.
This week, I paid my rent and my credit card bill,
worked 60 hours between my two jobs,
only saw the sun on my cigarette breaks
and slept like a rock.
Flossed in the morning,
locked my door,
and remembered to buy eggs.
My mother is proud of me.
It is not the kind of pride she brags about at the golf course.
She doesn’t combat topics like, ”My daughter got into Yale”
with, ”Oh yeah, my daughter remembered to buy eggs”
But she is proud.
See, she remembers what came before this.
The weeks where I forgot how to use my muscles,
how I would stay as silent as a thick fog for weeks.
She thought each phone call from an unknown number was the notice of my suicide.
These were the bad days.
My life was a gift that I wanted to return.
My head was a house of leaking faucets and burnt-out lightbulbs.
Depression, is a good lover.
So attentive; has this innate way of making everything about you.
And it is easy to forget that your bedroom is not the world,
That the dark shadows your pain casts is not mood-lighting.
It is easier to stay in this abusive relationship than fix the problems it has created.
Today, I slept in until 10,
cleaned every dish I own,
fought with the bank,
took care of paperwork.
You and I might have different definitions of adulthood.
I don’t work for salary, I didn’t graduate from college,
but I don’t speak for others anymore,
and I don’t regret anything I can’t genuinely apologize for.
And my mother is proud of me.
I burned down a house of depression,
I painted over murals of greyscale,
and it was hard to rewrite my life into one I wanted to live
But today, I want to live.
I didn’t salivate over sharp knives,
or envy the boy who tossed himself off the Brooklyn bridge.
I just cleaned my bathroom,
did the laundry,
called my brother.
Told him, “it was a good day.”
Kait Rokowski (A Good Day)
oh my goodness. I have no words.