Braumberson

That awkward moment when you spend your whole life trying to get into a Top 10 university only to realize right before you graduate that the whole system is bullshit.

Tags: I don't intend on remembering Senior Week

1,146 notes

reblogged via

(Source: wicnet)

3,130 notes

reblogged via

687 notes

reblogged via

2,215 notes

reblogged via

(Source: eatsleeptv)

181 notes

reblogged via

1,436 notes

reblogged via

Cira Robinson started “pancaking” her ballet shoes when she was 18: “I use foundation. The colour is Caribbean coffee – it’s basic cheap make-up, but it works. Pointe shoes come only in the traditional pink, unless they’re red for a show. It would look strange if there was a pink shoe at the end of a brown leg, so it helps with the line. My pointe shoes are brown because my skin is brown.

Cira Robinson started “pancaking” her ballet shoes when she was 18: “I use foundation. The colour is Caribbean coffee – it’s basic cheap make-up, but it works. Pointe shoes come only in the traditional pink, unless they’re red for a show. It would look strange if there was a pink shoe at the end of a brown leg, so it helps with the line. My pointe shoes are brown because my skin is brown.

2,951 notes

reblogged via

(Source: einsteinonacid)

129,311 notes

reblogged via

[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.]

tuneage:

The National - The Rains of Castamere (for HBO’s Game of Thrones)

HBO is currently doing amazing things for music and cinematography. Last night’s Game of Thrones episode was a thunderous, emotional falcon punch. This song was the perfect, haunting, punctuation.

And who are you, the proud lord said,

that I must bow so low?

Only a cat of a different coat,

that’s all the truth I know.

In a coat of gold or a coat of red,

a lion still has claws,

And mine are long and sharp, my lord,

as long and sharp as yours.

And so he spoke, and so he spoke,

that lord of Castamere,

But now the rains weep o’er his hall,

with no one there to hear.

Yes now the rains weep o’er his hall,

and not a soul to hear