Andy Patton/ Indiana/ Romantic/ Unicorn

Hey puddins, name's Andy Patton of Hammond, Indiana. I'm single, lonely, poor and most times can't afford ramen. its been 4yrs having not fucked a woman mainly scarred from heartbreak but also i seek love and not fingerbangs, i'm a novelist of over a dozen books (details in my publshed folder on my facebook .com/boathopper page, add me) I have 800+ short films,15 are pretty good, you'd have to type 'andyp's short films' to see some on multiple accounts, i'm always deleted, a rebel on youtube, i have a hellraiser script at hellraisernightshines.yolasite.com, another tumblr at clivedavinciromance , i had a script in hollywood bounced around called boathopper which is science fiction about a monster slamming into our oceans, but the serial killer described in it is identical and predates the 'dexter' book and show, and yes its copywritten just like the rest of my sampled work, stephen king even samples me, to see more about the dexter narrative and incredible journey your detections could take just youtube 'andyp's arduous travels of an unrenound serial killer'. my body is caked and dented in scars, lacerations and holes because i'm a good person, a strong person, doing good things in a horrible place.i'm was entering a finished 3rd horror feature into sundance but its incomplete, i made it by myself in a empty building when i was homeless, its under 'sundancers andyp's' on youtube, the 2nd part is the best, my 1st two features were generic slashers and don't count as serious, i'm finishing up another book, a fantasy novel i think will be bigger than harry potter...i WILL become larger than stephen king, and you wonder why i choose such a high totum to climb other than a smaller horror writer? well its because i've finished libraries of writing, novels and shorts, all the decades i've been alone and sad in a dark room as an introvert, what is dormant, and what is almost accomplished is more thatn king, almost, i need a few green miles and stand by me's first, and then i need a few other stories and books and i will have achieved more elaborate words than star wars or marvel combined, i just have to get them seen is all, tha'ts the hard/easy part......i hang out with my gay friends in portage, they're all i have in my life, my mexican bestie is leaving ot vegas, i don't have any other real friends, and no family left, i'm just all alone in the world, i drive a stupid car i spraypainted purple, i act like a retard because i want to filter through phony uptight people, i want a real cool, good girl, who doesn't fuck everyone like everyone in society does, i want a lover and rebel and fighter, not someone who's ordinary like my ex who breaks hearts and breaks herself off pieces of dick at any whim, i haven't kissed a girl in over 2 years. I'm not a sleazeball, i've only had 3serious long relationships, that means i've only had sex with 3 people, no additional fingerbangs or buttfuckings, maybe i kissed ten more girls, but that's it. I say heartfelt poems or perversion after almost every pic i reblog, so the history of my tumblr is quite a reading adventure. I'm a horror writer, here is a link to my newest collection of stories http://www.lulu.com/shop/andrew-patton/reflections-in-the-dark/paperback/product-20340079.html I'm an animal activist.gay rights activist, civil rights activist and women's rights activist, BUT I despise stupid groups of people like most feminists, most bisexuals, most of what p.e.t.a does, truth anti smoking commercials, etc, because these consist mainly of spoiled brats doing nothing, not being in any form of fight, just a lap of luxery, forcing their beliefs or ways of life on you even if they are the most insane selfish things imagineable, like i actually argue with people who do gangbangs and have swinger parties, could they honestly justify that disgusting shit to me, do it on your own time and leave me out of your sexcapades, i'm the most fucked up person alive, stranger by far of any human alive, i have an imaginative mind but i also have social skills, i know what its like being lonesome its why i hate when people just fuck tons of others, they spit at something i wish i had, they are gluttonous. My idols are Clive Barker, i made my art collection entirely out of scratch but i had him in mind to impress him, and i also made a book of short stories like his books of blood, i'm very similar to him, a huge fan, but it wasn't on purpose, its weird, its liked he fucked my mom in the 70's before he went gay or something, Stephen King, Kenny Hotz, Wayne Pacelle of the hspca, and others, even steve o and tom green. i'm the poorest person i know, yet i give my singles to bums, i'm selfless, i'm lazy, but when i have ambition like someone helping me, i'll create milestones. i make all my videos mostly in this loft at my moms house, i'm stuck here until my federal probation is up, not like i'll go anywhere else unless i get mental disability, i have no drive in life for average shit, i'm a creator, not an assembly line worker, i don't need the shit that money can buy, i'd never go to disneyland again even if someone bought me a package cause i think its extravagent and there are kids that will never see that place, i'd let them go in my place. i dislike snooty superficial people who act like they are better than you and are mean and bully and act like they're cool, when really they are fucking ignorant whiny brats in college or some shit trying to find their identities; they are jackoffs. so beware if you get offended by something i say, which is almost always a joke, cause i'll outdebate you and i'm VERY mean to bullies who get used to being tools in their normal lives with normal people, cause i'm not normal, i'm elite, cream of the crop, super large penis machoman, and i'm wittier, funnier and fucking the coolest fuck you'll ever know period, so bitches on their periods stand no chance either. My trolling book is blowing up, its sold 43 copies now, i've made it cheaper, black & white, so i'm making money now, DON'T USE CREATESPACE they are not creative friendly. you can find my large magazine type trolling book here.. http://www.lulu.com/shop/andrew-patton/trolling-101/paperback/product-20324152.html I've been raised by women without a father, i'm very feminine but strong, so don't turn me into an angry woman that will tell you off, but it takes alot to even get me mad, it just may seem i'm mad cause i'm pretty creative and outspoken, but really, i just laugh at your insults and bullying and i destroy anything you shit out with my verbal reckonings. I don't think i'm better than anyone, i'm kind to everyone, and that's what opens my mouth in the first place, is people attacking me or trying to bully me, it reminds me of how they could be doing it do someone else, like a gay kid, a black person, a woman, and it pisses me off. scene kids are the worst, almost like nazis cause they are a form of upper rich caste system that thinks they're better and they get snobby and uptight and its fucking annoying. I'm faithful,, sometimes romantic, sometimes funny genuine human. I dob not have anything in common with humans, I feel I'm more intelligent and its a burden being in a way, an ugly duckling. But I relate to morons too, because I am a stupid moron sometimes, I'm silly like that. next month i will have seen 10 psychiatrists in my life yet there's nothing even wrong with me.I'm the kind of person who would volunteer his head to a row of nazis so that others may live, i'm selfless. I'm also the kind of person who would be the ONLY one to stand up and risk not being hidden anymore, risk being killed by those nazis just to stand up to them. I'm a leader. I've led 100 of the world's worst maniacs in a jail cell for a year, I was on the back of a 7ft nigerian man preventing him from killing someone, I was a good person in a bad place, like jesus walking this shitty earth. Upon an apoclypse in 2012 i can lead the world to peace. i'm also the kind of person that is a fighter, i can be on my bloody knees before a dozen nazis and slice all their throats in moments before they know what's happening. I've only been with 3 girls, all long relationships and am still looking for my true soul mate on this planet, I've scavenged billions of galaxies looking and my search has ended here. You're here somewhere, I sense you. My ex got me put in jail to become a pornstar? She sent a threat to Kevin Spacey's website. The fuckers stole my movie 'The Thing' but made it shitty, read my synopsis or script at thethingfromanotherworld.webs.com. 2nd time feds kicked in my door, guns blazing, I told them my gf had shaved a penis in my chest hair, which she really did the night before, they looked and laughed and withdrew their guns out of our faces, I basically saved that crazy ex ponrstar, tattood bitch's life with my wittiness and her stupid art project she did on me when she was bored. Plus, having a lifesize darth maul figurine at the foot of my bed didn't really solidify to these saps I was a real serial murderer. I'm a handyman and can do just about anything, I'm currently building a movie set for my next silly video. I type 100 words a minute. I'm great with my mind, hands and dignity and I apply those things to women. I'm the most compassionate person alive or who has ever lived. I'm a registered rehabber wih the D.N.R. of Indiana. I"m incredible in all sports. I love spending time with someone I love watching movies and going out to eat, just waiting on that right girl. I have a bachelor's in English, and an associates from Minneapolis in Art instruction, but I'm happy with being a loser, being poor and having no future, I'm just trying to manage every day on this shitty planet, being a very lonely wise thing. I've been to California a dozen times in the last 2 years and not for vacation or my own accord (long story). I'm VERY down to earth and give great advice. If I could go to Chipotle daily I would, but I have no girl in my life, no significant other, no waddling penguin, no friend to hold my hand. i do like a girl alot, but i realize how fucked up i am, sometimes i don't even want to get out of bed, i'd need her to understand what its like to be lonesome and depressed, i really miss holding someone. we're all doomed to die, it sucks, i'm just trying to make my life as comfortable as possible with the little means i have, hopefully they'll put me on mental disability and i can continue my writing without having to work shit jobs to make ends meet, or save for a date with a girl and it never happens anyways go to a few of my sites myspace.com/andyp6 or Andy's Facebook link is below, its facebook.com/boathopper i have a new myspace account but rarely use it

(via vulsinite)

clivedavinci: adrian yates of diary of dreams. the composer of my nightmares and mood, the imprimatur of my obituary, the words like brittle, attenuated rusty nails still finding a straightened sturdiness in the shutting of my coffin’s lid, or the glue that pastes my lips shut

clivedavinci: i just want someone to help me cum and feel good, i want a best friend i can tell anything to, any secrets, i want someone who’ll be there with me through life, until i die

(via cybergirlfriend)

clivedavinci: andyp’s short films - things that felt nice

illestflow:

Is this a new thing..
Like the cinnamon challenge lmao

clivedavinci: twerk dat

reverendrevenant:

Home Improvements with Adam & Eve

clivedavinci: god man, i finally saw her smile in person, the girl i used to like, but calls me a cyber stalker n shit, even after i thought we put all that shit behind us, i fucking HATE when i’m compared to ordinary fucking people, like do i LOOK ordinary to you? i’m sorry i don’t fucking spit game and holla bullshit that all girls like and transcribe my digits into your phone memory card n shit, like i’m different, and a girl should LOVE that i’m different, but they don’t, they’re all fucking gay as fuck and i’m not interested anymore, and i haven’t looked at her shit since and don’t plan too, even if that smile made me almost stumble over my damned feet, and stuttered me on the inside, i don’t care, like being mean to someone is for a couple, a girl can do whatever she wants to push her boy’s buttons, its understandable that she needs attention sometimes, needs the furthering feeling of being loved that maybe chumps don’t offer, it was always done to me by my ex differently, the opposite, because that’s all i’d give her is fucking attention, way too much where she just got so used to it, we were the cutest ever, she was a button pusher like a fucking nasa control panel specialist, but me and that girl, like we’re strangers, and not even, we’ve known each other so long, we see each other all the time, we’ve had a weird chemistry and experiences together, i’ve spotted things about her no other man will ever in her life, becaues i really cared about her, but when you’re fuckin so mean to someone yo udon’t know, and for no reason other than society’s sway of thought, then that’s just fuckin generic to me man, i don’t need that shit, i’m a good person, and i’m fucking hot and i’m unlike any dude you’ll ever find, damn snow white was t here today, she always goes by those same machines when i get there, its like she times the shit, i don’t mind at all, she’s so tall, taller than me, with my luck she’s probably fucking 17 n shit, i tried to glance longer than a second this time but she gave me a look back that i couldn’t decipher if it was checking me out or aware of me not in a good way, so i stopped looking, but after i showered and did a set of bicep curls, she stood doing shit facing my car right outside the window, all the way up to the time that i left, and we looked at each other outside through the glass, then s he went on another machine, like she was showing her butt, and i looked, and i sat in the car for a few minutes readying my stamp card and patting my sweaty head with my towel while looking at her butt, and long legs, she’s reallly pretty and always alone, she never talks to dudes, she knows what car i drive now, maybe she’ll add me some day, who knows, nobody ever does, people are fucking gay like that, i approve everyone, but if i recognized someone i’d tell them i recognize them in a message, i’d tell her she was hot stuff man, even if she wasn’t of age, i’d still be her friend, any dudes that go there, anyone man, i added these trainers years ago, these dudes, but they didn’t add me, it was all awkward after that, i fucking hate t hat shit, its why i don’t fucking add people anymore, i’m the nicest guy, its a shame that turquoise chick isn’t even my friend when we’re into the same shit, and go to the same place all the time, like how gay is that? i have a fucking novel where she’s the main character, and she’ll probably never know, or she will, she obviously watches me still even though i don’t want her back, but like, with my writing, its awesome if i want it to be, and this novel is so fucking original and creepy and memorable, it’ll stick in the back of your mind like a tumor, or like a gob of chewing gum onto the skull after a surgery that fell out a surgeon’s mouth and was forgotten, its awesome man, and i’m not even out of the locker room scene where shit begins happening, i made her character so creepy, but confused, girly, a heroine, always in danger, and i kinda made her a love interst to a guy kinda like me, its just a story though, a story she’ll relate to, a story everyone there will relate to if they’ve stood out to me, i mean i’ll post the book online, but i doubt anyone will buy a copy, even if its like 4 bucks super cheap, it’ll be on amazon, i’m glad people might buy it for themselves, if they see themselves in th estory on my website, then wanna keep the book for themselves, but who’s gonna have the balls to bring it in the limelight? and compliment what i did? and brag to their friends how awesome it is to not just be in a book, but to be in a kickass book, that could someday be turned into a feature film, its an adventure man, and its a simple story about going to the fuckin gym, its amazing, i hope it don’t take me another month, i gotta squeeze snow white in it somehow now, obviously during when all the shit is going down, when the world changes inside the gym

reverendrevenant:

dapenguinninja:

tylerchokely:

STOP

"In a French-ass restaurant/Hurry up with my damn croissants"

hahahahaha

clivedavinci: damn jay z’s got some dsl’s, some dick suckin lips…damn one of these little faggots got a writing essay contest, first prize is 500 bucks lol, then 3,000 nationally, lol, she’s 100 percent gonna win this shit, all parents cheat and help their kids cleverly, even at science fairs n shit, and sure all other parents will try to sneak and make their kids win but only a professional scientist like fuckin walter white n shit will leave the others in t he dust, but, there’s just writing in our genes,aliyah is going to definately win, my grandfather now that i remember had written an entire suitcase of love notes and letters to my grandma, it was in the attic years ago, out of the dozen times i rearranged the attic by myself, like 20 family member’s shit being up there, in and out, the last time i went deeper into the crawlspace for like 10 hours carrying shit down and moving shit around, my back hurt for like fucking 3 days, but i found that suitcase, my grandma was crying n shit, i just began reading her a letter, she didn’t catch on at first, she was watching a steven segal movie or some shit, then the 2nd letter i was reading, the pet names came into play, and she just looked at me reminiscently, and cried, and told me ‘let me see what you got’ and i lifted the entire suitcase from behind my back, we hung out all day going through them, he worked in a factory at inland for decades working for his 5 kids, he was a good man, even went to west virgina to work months at a time in the mines, away from his family and sent back home every cent, the homecomings like repeated soldier homecomings, so many people lived in and out of this house, entire families, romano’s in highland with the hoagies my grandma and grandpa built by hand, dug it out and everything for long months, without a cent, my grandather and his sons tried their hands at pickled pepper businesses, pizza businesses, taverns, construction crews, always being dysfunction and bickering or outside partnerships causing the downfalls, my grandpa, who i’ve never met before died when he was like 50, he had some rare lung cancer from inland, some doctor with his doctor’s bag would come here, and he’d lay out on the kitchen table down here, and a lead box was opened and tongs would remove a piece of radiation, plutonium or some shit, and put it on his chest to try and cure him, which obviously fucking killed him faster, stupid fucking humans, medical practices were so barbaric like american horror story asylum n shit, my grandma was so lonely and sad, i’ve seen the pictures of her depression right after, she was left with nothing and worked as a janitor in the schools, she was lonely, she opened a single’s club at her daughters tavern, my mom hung out there, i was always there dropped on my head off barstools n shit, helicoptered to emergency rooms as my brain is leaking n shit, i don’t blame my grandma for becoming kinda slutty ya know, she was lonely, she wanted another man to fill the void she’d lost, she’d loved her man and was faithful all those decades with him since she was a young girl

clivedavinci: nobody wants me, everyone’s fingertips are reluctant to even crawl, one part of me wants love but doesn’t want to lift a finger knowing expectation is a devil’s tease just as spring is summer’s mistress, one part of me knows i’m too unique for girls whether parts of it are bad or parts of it are good, one part of me knows i’m not good enough for anyone and i digress to a state of incapacitation, one part of me is weakened- i feel as if my hollow bones-if they had anything in them- have been gnawed upon by wolves in ways getting all that meat out of them- and i recovered with a little gristle left in them but wolves could circle around again and attack and i won’t see them coming even if i’ve survived the first battle with them- like liam neeson in ‘the grey’, one part of me is forgiveness, one part of me needs love, one slice of me needs to fuck all the time and have a girlfriend, one part of me is the largest fraction of this pie and its in the shape of a pac man devouring the other parts- which is the prospect of so many other girls coming to terms- changing their minds about me- realizing what scraps are out in the world that’s offered to them- there are those interested in me at having their shots and maybe not blowing those shots- there’s the idea of meeting someone entirely new someplace in the future when i’m not expecting it. i just don’t know. i don’t know what i’m meant for. i do know however what i’ve tried to mean to people. i’m messed up but i’m golden, close to home, kind, and passionate, and could soar to great heights but i’m always grounded from the furloughing of splinters in my heart. i’ve done away with hope of love but i haven’t done away in the sense that i just fuck people, i still hold my heart and this big juicy cock safe and locked away, but it is on a shelf high up and it just needs to be reached for, isn’t it the manly thing to do andy? to fight for a woman? sure, been there done that, time after time after time, maybe its abysmal when i try? maybe its time to be fought for, a smidgling? a leap? that polarized chivalry doesn’t exist, there are far better things to do, than to fight for something thought to be lost, for something aged as me, something unproductive in the balls even though there’s a steaming piston always going up and down, its easy to not attach to any more eyes or faces or lives because my own eyes, face and life hadn’t been desired to be shared, and i don’t blame anyone, for i have nothing, i’m without, i ate ramen on easter and slept and watched sybil, a woman’s narrative, a crazy woman’s narrative, its how i feel a lot of times, i have too many feelings, and its felt like they’re often trampled, i don’t have anything, i don’t even have the motivation to care, i don’t do the typical things romantically, lively, or ordinarily. i’m just a bump on neck, i’m just there, if someone wanted me to be, i’m just a mushroom on a log i rot away and have aged but i’m stil filling and not so poisonous that i’d ever hurt, all i know is i don’t care, but in that uncaring, there is still communication, there is a sword in the stone, anything really to cross ways with me, making me damn near trip, i need a black cat, i welcome its bad luck, 7 yrs of it, or a liftime, or 7 fleeting moments, i do desire love, i am lonely, but i’m more heartbroken than anything to ever risk any more peril, i’m broke, i’m chubby, i’m depressed, i’m balding, i’m frowned upon, i’m too horny, who could ever become the constant lover to me? who could be the halving to my despair only to simply share it with me? well andy love is pretty powerful, remember what it felt like? all the girls in the world who’ve never had it, who dream about it, are in for a suprise for what it actually feels like, its undescribeable, i wish they all have it, even if its without me, i still wish i could have it again, i’ll never know, i’m stuck indoors, in a cave, in a figment of what a life used to be, stuck in suspended animation to never truly get out and life it again, even if something great came my way, i’m just here and i’m tethered to a cord to electrical transmissions via a keyboard, i always want a girl to try for me, i need rescuing, i need a cuddly st bernard dog to pour some whiskey from its neck barrel into me as i’m freezing in the snow, i’m inside, inside my head, inside walls, part of me is so silent, but part of me is screaming to hear words, i kinda feel just like sybil

clivedavinci: nobody wants me, everyone’s fingertips are reluctant to even crawl, one part of me wants love but doesn’t want to lift a finger knowing expectation is a devil’s tease just as spring is summer’s mistress, one part of me knows i’m too unique for girls whether parts of it are bad or parts of it are good, one part of me knows i’m not good enough for anyone and i digress to a state of incapacitation, one part of me is weakened- i feel as if my hollow bones-if they had anything in them- have been gnawed upon by wolves in ways getting all that meat out of them- and i recovered with a little gristle left in them but wolves could circle around again and attack and i won’t see them coming even if i’ve survived the first battle with them- like liam neeson in ‘the grey’, one part of me is forgiveness, one part of me needs love, one slice of me needs to fuck all the time and have a girlfriend, one part of me is the largest fraction of this pie and its in the shape of a pac man devouring the other parts- which is the prospect of so many other girls coming to terms- changing their minds about me- realizing what scraps are out in the world that’s offered to them- there are those interested in me at having their shots and maybe not blowing those shots- there’s the idea of meeting someone entirely new someplace in the future when i’m not expecting it. i just don’t know. i don’t know what i’m meant for. i do know however what i’ve tried to mean to people. i’m messed up but i’m golden, close to home, kind, and passionate, and could soar to great heights but i’m always grounded from the furloughing of splinters in my heart. i’ve done away with hope of love but i haven’t done away in the sense that i just fuck people, i still hold my heart and this big juicy cock safe and locked away, but it is on a shelf high up and it just needs to be reached for, isn’t it the manly thing to do andy? to fight for a woman? sure, been there done that, time after time after time, maybe its abysmal when i try? maybe its time to be fought for, a smidgling? a leap? that polarized chivalry doesn’t exist, there are far better things to do, than to fight for something thought to be lost, for something aged as me, something unproductive in the balls even though there’s a steaming piston always going up and down, its easy to not attach to any more eyes or faces or lives because my own eyes, face and life hadn’t been desired to be shared, and i don’t blame anyone, for i have nothing, i’m without, i ate ramen on easter and slept and watched sybil, a woman’s narrative, a crazy woman’s narrative, its how i feel a lot of times, i have too many feelings, and its felt like they’re often trampled, i don’t have anything, i don’t even have the motivation to care, i don’t do the typical things romantically, lively, or ordinarily. i’m just a bump on neck, i’m just there, if someone wanted me to be, i’m just a mushroom on a log i rot away and have aged but i’m stil filling and not so poisonous that i’d ever hurt, all i know is i don’t care, but in that uncaring, there is still communication, there is a sword in the stone, anything really to cross ways with me, making me damn near trip, i need a black cat, i welcome its bad luck, 7 yrs of it, or a liftime, or 7 fleeting moments, i do desire love, i am lonely, but i’m more heartbroken than anything to ever risk any more peril, i’m broke, i’m chubby, i’m depressed, i’m balding, i’m frowned upon, i’m too horny, who could ever become the constant lover to me? who could be the halving to my despair only to simply share it with me? well andy love is pretty powerful, remember what it felt like? all the girls in the world who’ve never had it, who dream about it, are in for a suprise for what it actually feels like, its undescribeable, i wish they all have it, even if its without me, i still wish i could have it again, i’ll never know, i’m stuck indoors, in a cave, in a figment of what a life used to be, stuck in suspended animation to never truly get out and life it again, even if something great came my way, i’m just here and i’m tethered to a cord to electrical transmissions via a keyboard, i always want a girl to try for me, i need rescuing, i need a cuddly st bernard dog to pour some whiskey from its neck barrel into me as i’m freezing in the snow, i’m inside, inside my head, inside walls, part of me is so silent, but part of me is screaming to hear words, i kinda feel just like sybil

milesjai:

 

whatdoyouthinkiknow:

her-candyness:

NEED A FUCKIN’ CUPCAKE AT 4 A.M. BECAUSE YOU CAN’T CONTROL YOUR NEED FOR SUGARY GOODNESS?

Well you’re in luck because Sprinkles Cupcakes has introduced the very first cupcake ATM in New York City

Your local bakery closes at 10 pm and you need a cupcake well now you can get a fuckin’ cupcake you can buy 20 cupcakes it doesn’t even matter nothing matters except this 

That’s right you 5 year olds this ATM is operational 24/7 for your 24/7 sugar cravings stocked with delectable flavors just look how happy that fuckin’ girl is in the picture look at her yes that’s right that COULD BE YOU

Don’t live near NYC? Well better hop on the next fucking plane and support this ridiculously sweet-ass project to get cupcake ATMs in even more areas. 

ABC NEWS EVEN COVERED A STORY ON IT GET YOUR SHITS TOGETHER AND EAT CUPCAKES

I need this is LA..

They have this in LA. It’s in Beverly Hills.

clivedavinci: what a great idea, perfect business for a recluse, just shoot your sugary boxes out a whole into the mouths of humans, get paid for it, and never have to see their stupid faces

(via emmasgonemad)

clivedavinci: rainy days are the most romantic, they’re a pause for us, stilling us to look around, keeping us from going where we’re always going, the rains strumming the earth and everything on it making the air more moisturized, and dusty, from how the droplets mingling with the forgotten things around us, that they themselves have become dusty, the sidewalks where the steps no longer tread, the branches of trees that make the air smell woody, their leavy fingers that imbue the air with a tart but bland parsley, when the rains come and we’re stuck, we get to notice if we’re together, if we’re stuck no matter what, without the rains aid, and if that happens, then we no longer need the rain to pour and drown and float us towards each other, we’ll already have each other, and we can just sit back enjoying those rains as we’re rained upon, or we’re inside loafing on a bright day playing video games and footsies, we can lift open a window to let in the vehement winds of fresh air, as the skies outside darken, we could enjoy those days at home, with each other, just being on this planet that cries every so often, just like us humans, when the skies cry, we feel like holding each other, we feel the crying atmosphere around us, it makes us feel better, that we’re not the only ones who ever need to cry, the feeling of rain could be felt in the first 20 minutes of the movie goonies, i love that feeling and atmosphere, but having you baby, in my arms, after the rains stopped, or just on any regular day, makes me so happy i’m alive, all the decades i wanted to not be alive, are long forgotten, i have you now, everything before doesn’t matter, when your cheeks sodden with your own human tears, don’t worry baby, i’ll be their to thumb them from your cheek

(via siimbaaa)

codeinewarrior:

this could be us but we extinct

clivedavinci: this is great science fiction, nobody knows how dinosaurs borked each other, its great to theorize though

(via latenight-organdonor)