Ryan. 17. Wrestler. I fucking love nice shoes and clothes and expensive cars. This is my blog.
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Reblogged from setbabiesonfire  259 notes

When a community has needs and its members do not know how to organize spontaneously to provide them, someone comes forward, an authority who satisfies those needs by utilizing the services of all and directing them to their liking. If the roads are unsafe and the people do not know what measures to take, a police force emerges which in return for whatever services it renders expects to be supported and paid, as well as imposing itself and throwing its weight around; if some article is needed, and the community does not know how to arrange with the distant producers to supply it in exchange for goods produced locally, the merchant will appear who will profit by dealing with the needs of one section to sell and of the other to buy, and impose his/her own prices both on the producer and the consumer. This is what has happened in our midst; the less organized we have been, the more prone are we to be imposed on by a few individuals. And this is understandable. So much so that organization, far from creating authority, is the only cure for it and the only means whereby each one of us will get used to taking an active and conscious part in the collective work, and cease being passive instruments in the hands of leaders. By Errico Malatesta, 1864 (via class-struggle-anarchism)

Reblogged from hopelovealerion  529,904 notes
desolve:
“ c4ndyr3ddr4gons:
“ nancyfu:
“ It will take just 37 seconds to read this and change your thinking..
Two men, both seriously ill, occupied the same hospital room.
One man was allowed to sit up in his bed for an hour each afternoon to help...

desolve:

c4ndyr3ddr4gons:

nancyfu:

It will take just 37 seconds to read this and change your thinking..


Two men, both seriously ill, occupied the same hospital room.

One man was allowed to sit up in his bed for an hour each afternoon to help drain the fluid from his lungs.

His bed was next to the room’s only window.

The other man had to spend all his time flat on his back.

The men talked for hours on end.

They spoke of their wives and families, their homes, their jobs, their involvement in the military service, where they had been on vacation..

Every afternoon, when the man in the bed by the window could sit up, he would pass the time by describing to his roommate all the things he could see outside the window.

The man in the other bed began to live for those one hour periods where his world would be broadened and enlivened by all the activity and color of the world outside.

The window overlooked a park with a lovely lake.
Ducks and swans played on the water while children sailed their model boats. Young lovers walked arm in arm amidst flowers of every color and a fine view of the city skyline could be seen in the distance.

As the man by the window described all this in exquisite details, the man on the other side of the room would close his eyes and imagine this picturesque scene.

One warm afternoon, the man by the window described a parade passing by.

Although the other man could not hear the band - he could see it in his mind’s eye as the gentleman by the window portrayed it with descriptive words.

Days, weeks and months passed.

One morning, the day nurse arrived to bring water for their baths only to find the lifeless body of the man by the window, who had died peacefully in his sleep.

She was saddened and called the hospital attendants to take the body away.

As soon as it seemed appropriate, the other man asked if he could be moved next to the window. The nurse was happy to make the switch, and after making sure he was comfortable, she left him alone.

Slowly, painfully, he propped himself up on one elbow to take his first look at the real world outside.
He strained to slowly turn to look out the window besides the bed.

It faced a blank wall.

The man asked the nurse what could have compelled his deceased roommate who had described such wonderful things outside this window.

The nurse responded that the man was blind and could not even see the wall.


She said, ‘Perhaps he just wanted to encourage you.’

Epilogue:

There is tremendous happiness in making others happy, despite our own situations.
Shared grief is half the sorrow, but happiness when shared, is doubled.
If you want to feel rich, just count all the things you have that money can’t buy.
‘Today is a gift, that is why it is called The Present .’

STOP SCROLLING AND READ THIS

this gets me every time 

“ ”Plaza says her dream is to do a real ­middle-of-the-road romantic comedy, ­specifically one with Ryan Gosling, who once approached her in a juice bar to tell her he loves Parks and ­Recreation. “I’d work in a flower shop and be insecure. And he’d...

”Plaza says her dream is to do a real ­middle-of-the-road romantic comedy, ­specifically one with Ryan Gosling, who once approached her in a juice bar to tell her he loves Parks and ­Recreation. “I’d work in a flower shop and be insecure. And he’d work in real estate—sorry, I’m pitching a movie to you.” She’s not sorry. She keeps pitching. “And there’s always cupcake batter on my face, and I’m like, ‘I just made these cupcakes, but I don’t know how I feel!’ And he’s like, ‘Let me get that cupcake batter off your face … with my dick.’” She’s cracking up. “Cut to me giving him a hand job. Sorry, I’ve had too much caffeine.” — NEW YORK MAGAZINE