Taylor

Just trying to get through each day as happy as possible

lost-incyber-space:

skyakafreckles:

samthe-onion-nigga:

freewillandphysics:

teal-deer:

witchyroses:

art–felt:

I remember first learning that you can cry from any emotion, that emotions are chemical levels in your brain and your body is constantly trying to maintain equilibrium. so if one emotion sky rockets, that chemical becomes flagged and signals the tear duct to open as an exit to release that emotion packaged neatly within a tear. Everything made sense after learning that. That sudden stability of your emotions after crying. How crying is often accompanied by the inability to feel any other emotion in that precise moment. And it is especially beautiful knowing that it is even possible to experience so much beauty or love or happiness that your body literally can’t hold on to all of it. So what I’ve learned is that crying signifies that you are feeling as much as humanely possible and that is living to the fullest extent. So keep feeling and cry often and as much as needed

SHIT WHAT

Also let yourself cry. It really is a biochemical release valve to dump out all the chemicals that make you feel stuff.

I honestly think one reason men in western culture have so many problems is that we don’t let them cry, and literally their brains get stuffed with all this crap that doesn’t have a release valve. Men, please cry. You’ll feel better. It’s ok. You are not lesser for taking care of your health.

This is why tears from different emotions look different under an electron microscope. They’re literally made up of different things. 

Happy tears are structurally different than sad tears than angry tears than overwhelmed tears etc.

I looked it up, cuz that tidbit was dope to me and..

image

Never would have known

Ah yes, the emotions: grief, change, onion, humor

(via actual-aphrodite)

allthingslinguistic:

casispie:

hugealienpie:

thechubbynerd:

just-shower-thoughts:

Contractions function almost identically to the full two-word phrase, but are only appropriate in some places in a sentence. It’s one of the weird quirks of this language we’ve.

This post needs some kind of warning sign.

I did not see that coming.

Some people say the English language is confusing. To which I say… It’s.

That’s the kind of linguist I’m. 

(via galaxysnail)

ur-friendly-local-memer:

marzipanandminutiae:

little-niggah-sugar:

hi-def-doritos:

amityravenclawelf:

dragonpuppies:

Elizabethan Peasant 1: Look yonder! Someone has writ upon that ceiling that thou art most easily gulled!

Elizabethan Peasant 2: More fool they, for I cannot read.

Elizabethan Peasant 1: *sighing, lowers his visage unto his palm*

Elizabethan Peasant 1: Lo, hast thou learned to read?

Elizabethan Peasant 2: Verily, and to compose as well.

Elizabethan Peasant 1: With haste, then, how is the word “i cup” composed?

Elizabethan Peasant 1: what ho, I know a sporting jest! What art thou when thou art a peasant and art occupied in a privy?

Elizabethan Peasant 2: I wist not, but certain am I that thou shalt tell me speedily.

Elizabethan Peasant 1: Most verily, thou art a peon.

Elizabethan Child: Father, I have not yet broken fast and am filled with pangs of hunger.

Elizabethan Father: Hail, Filled With Pangs Of Hunger! Mine own name is Wybert.

Elizabethan Scholar 1: Alack, I have in my purse but sixty-nine pence.

Elizabethan Scholar 2: Lusty fellow, knowst thou well what such a sum portends!

Elizabethan Scholar 1: I…I have not sufficient to sup on fowl.

Elizabethan Scholar 1: Mine name is verily Micheal with a ‘b’, and I hast been afraid of insects mine entire life.

Elizabethan Scholar 2: Cease cease cease. Wither is the bee?

Elizabethan Scholar 1: Thither is a bee?

(via galaxysnail)

ur-friendly-local-memer:

marzipanandminutiae:

little-niggah-sugar:

hi-def-doritos:

amityravenclawelf:

dragonpuppies:

Elizabethan Peasant 1: Look yonder! Someone has writ upon that ceiling that thou art most easily gulled!

Elizabethan Peasant 2: More fool they, for I cannot read.

Elizabethan Peasant 1: *sighing, lowers his visage unto his palm*

Elizabethan Peasant 1: Lo, hast thou learned to read?

Elizabethan Peasant 2: Verily, and to compose as well.

Elizabethan Peasant 1: With haste, then, how is the word “i cup” composed?

Elizabethan Peasant 1: what ho, I know a sporting jest! What art thou when thou art a peasant and art occupied in a privy?

Elizabethan Peasant 2: I wist not, but certain am I that thou shalt tell me speedily.

Elizabethan Peasant 1: Most verily, thou art a peon.

Elizabethan Child: Father, I have not yet broken fast and am filled with pangs of hunger.

Elizabethan Father: Hail, Filled With Pangs Of Hunger! Mine own name is Wybert.

Elizabethan Scholar 1: Alack, I have in my purse but sixty-nine pence.

Elizabethan Scholar 2: Lusty fellow, knowst thou well what such a sum portends!

Elizabethan Scholar 1: I…I have not sufficient to sup on fowl.

Elizabethan Scholar 1: Mine name is verily Micheal with a ‘b’, and I hast been afraid of insects mine entire life.

Elizabethan Scholar 2: Cease cease cease. Wither is the bee?

Elizabethan Scholar 1: Thither is a bee?

(via galaxysnail)