People mistake ovulation and menstruation to be the same thing when in fact they aren’t
Ovulation is when the eggs are saying “hello friends I am here”
And menstuation is when the eggs are saying “goodbye friends I am gone”
(via gooeybelle)
This is my personal tumblr, but until I have the time to set up and maintain a Simblr, my Sims-related posts/reblogs are here.
Skrood is also:
a) a Sociology student
b) a lacto-ovo-vegetarian
c) a cat on some days.
Skrood has:
a) an awesome boyfriend, YH. Whom I suspect is a fuzzy little puppy in disguise.
b) a red-eared slider named Mr. Gibble
c) no idea what to do with her life
Skrood wishes to:
a) be a lifelong learner and dreamer
b) love and be loved in return
c) travel around the world
Skrood likes:
a) food
b) nice music
c) theatre
d) nice films
e) happiness
f) dreaming
g) did I mention, food?
“Are you sure it’s safe?” Flanna whispered.
“Yes, my love.” Gnoah sighed happily. “We’re safe here.” He looked around the basement love nest, with its Astroturf carpets and Freezer Bunny wall decor.
“Oh, Gnoah!” Flanna flapped her wings in delight. “Can we stay here forever? It’s beautiful.”
“Of course, my darling,” said Gnoah. “And with God as my witness, we’ll never be stolen or kicked again!”
THE
ENDBEGINNING[Credit for gnome and flamingo names goes to untidyfan!]
You were on your way home when you died.
It was a car accident. Nothing particularly remarkable, but fatal nonetheless. You left behind a wife and two children. It was a painless death. The EMTs tried their best to save you, but to no avail. Your body was so utterly shattered you were better off, trust me.
And that’s when you met me.
“What… what happened?” You asked. “Where am I?”
“You died,” I said, matter-of-factly. No point in mincing words.
“There was a… a truck and it was skidding…”
“Yup,” I said.
“I… I died?”
“Yup. But don’t feel bad about it. Everyone dies,” I said.
You looked around. There was nothingness. Just you and me. “What is this place?” You asked. “Is this the afterlife?”
“More or less,” I said.
“Are you god?” You asked.
“Yup,” I replied. “I’m God.”
“My kids… my wife,” you said.
“What about them?”
“Will they be all right?”
“That’s what I like to see,” I said. “You just died and your main concern is for your family. That’s good stuff right there.”
You looked at me with fascination. To you, I didn’t look like God. I just looked like some man. Or possibly a woman. Some vague authority figure, maybe. More of a grammar school teacher than the almighty.
“Don’t worry,” I said. “They’ll be fine. Your kids will remember you as perfect in every way. They didn’t have time to grow contempt for you. Your wife will cry on the outside, but will be secretly relieved. To be fair, your marriage was falling apart. If it’s any consolation, she’ll feel very guilty for feeling relieved.”
“Oh,” you said. “So what happens now? Do I go to heaven or hell or something?”
“Neither,” I said. “You’ll be reincarnated.”
“Ah,” you said. “So the Hindus were right,”
“All religions are right in their own way,” I said. “Walk with me.”
You followed along as we strode through the void. “Where are we going?”
“Nowhere in particular,” I said. “It’s just nice to walk while we talk.”
“So what’s the point, then?” You asked. “When I get reborn, I’ll just be a blank slate, right? A baby. So all my experiences and everything I did in this life won’t matter.”
“Not so!” I said. “You have within you all the knowledge and experiences of all your past lives. You just don’t remember them right now.”
I stopped walking and took you by the shoulders. “Your soul is more magnificent, beautiful, and gigantic than you can possibly imagine. A human mind can only contain a tiny fraction of what you are. It’s like sticking your finger in a glass of water to see if it’s hot or cold. You put a tiny part of yourself into the vessel, and when you bring it back out, you’ve gained all the experiences it had.
“You’ve been in a human for the last 48 years, so you haven’t stretched out yet and felt the rest of your immense consciousness. If we hung out here for long enough, you’d start remembering everything. But there’s no point to doing that between each life.”
“How many times have I been reincarnated, then?”
“Oh lots. Lots and lots. An in to lots of different lives.” I said. “This time around, you’ll be a Chinese peasant girl in 540 AD.”
“Wait, what?” You stammered. “You’re sending me back in time?”
“Well, I guess technically. Time, as you know it, only exists in your universe. Things are different where I come from.”
“Where you come from?” You said.
“Oh sure,” I explained “I come from somewhere. Somewhere else. And there are others like me. I know you’ll want to know what it’s like there, but honestly you wouldn’t understand.”
“Oh,” you said, a little let down. “But wait. If I get reincarnated to other places in time, I could have interacted with myself at some point.”
“Sure. Happens all the time. And with both lives only aware of their own lifespan you don’t even know it’s happening.”
“So what’s the point of it all?”
“Seriously?” I asked. “Seriously? You’re asking me for the meaning of life? Isn’t that a little stereotypical?”
“Well it’s a reasonable question,” you persisted.
I looked you in the eye. “The meaning of life, the reason I made this whole universe, is for you to mature.”
“You mean mankind? You want us to mature?”
“No, just you. I made this whole universe for you. With each new life you grow and mature and become a larger and greater intellect.”
“Just me? What about everyone else?”
“There is no one else,” I said. “In this universe, there’s just you and me.”
You stared blankly at me. “But all the people on earth…”
“All you. Different incarnations of you.”
“Wait. I’m everyone!?”
“Now you’re getting it,” I said, with a congratulatory slap on the back.
“I’m every human being who ever lived?”
“Or who will ever live, yes.”
“I’m Abraham Lincoln?”
“And you’re John Wilkes Booth, too,” I added.
“I’m Hitler?” You said, appalled.
“And you’re the millions he killed.”
“I’m Jesus?”
“And you’re everyone who followed him.”
You fell silent.
“Every time you victimized someone,” I said, “you were victimizing yourself. Every act of kindness you’ve done, you’ve done to yourself. Every happy and sad moment ever experienced by any human was, or will be, experienced by you.”
You thought for a long time.
“Why?” You asked me. “Why do all this?”
“Because someday, you will become like me. Because that’s what you are. You’re one of my kind. You’re my child.”
“Whoa,” you said, incredulous. “You mean I’m a god?”
“No. Not yet. You’re a fetus. You’re still growing. Once you’ve lived every human life throughout all time, you will have grown enough to be born.”
“So the whole universe,” you said, “it’s just…”
“An egg.” I answered. “Now it’s time for you to move on to your next life.”
And I sent you on your way.
O_O
yesss i found it again! one of my all time favourite reads.
People mistake ovulation and menstruation to be the same thing when in fact they aren’t
Ovulation is when the eggs are saying “hello friends I am here”
And menstuation is when the eggs are saying “goodbye friends I am gone”
Here are some awesome and empowering quotes from several very strong female celebrities.
And Kristen Stewart.
No, you know what? Fuck you.
Let me tell you about Kristen Stewart.
Let’s talk about how she’s the centerpiece of one of the most inexplicably popular misogynistic pieces of film shit and somehow gets blamed for it sucking, despite the fact that, hey, the books were actually worse. For those who were lucky enough to escape reading the actual books, her apparent lack of emotion is 100% accurate to Bella’s character, because Bella is in fact not a character but a blank white wall for fourteen-year-old girls to project themselves onto. Robert Pattinson is not the only one in the cast who hates Twilight, thank you.
Let’s talk about how she got crucified in the media for having an affair with a married man, when that man was her director. And let’s remember that she was called all manner of things for “ruining her relationship with RPattz” when she wasn’t even engaged to the dude, let alone married with kids. But oh no, she gets called a slut because she’s Kristen Stewart, she gets her career fucked because she’s Kristen Stewart, and the dude gets off scott free.
Let’s talk about how she is incredibly shy and anxious (rather, incidentally, like Chris Evans) but does film anyway, because she’s just that awesome.
Fuck your noise. She’s not the best actor in the world but she sure as hell doesn’t deserve that kind of shit.
Reblogging for original post… And
Circle and underline the Very True comment about how kristen stewart was crucified vs people giving the married man involved a free pass. Wtf?!You want to talk about feminism?
How is doing something like that beneficial to women?I don’t approve of cheating, but I approve even less of double fucking standards and women who perpetuate double standards on other women just because they dont like said ‘other woman’.
Our biggest “enemy” is not men, it is our perception and our treatment of other women.