“That same night, I wrote my first short story. It took me thirty minutes. It was a dark little tale about a man who found a magic cup and learned that if he wept into a cup, his tears turned into pearls. But even though he had always been poor, he was a happy man and rarely shed a tear. So he found ways to make himself sad so that his tears could make him rich. As his pears piled up, so did his greed grow. The story ended with the man sitting on a mountain of pearls, knife in hand, weeping helplessly into the cup with his beloved wife’s slain body in his arms.”—The Kite Runner, Khaled Hosseini (via ois-eau)
When my husband died, because he was so famous & known for not being a believer, many people would come up to me — it still sometimes happens — & ask me if Carl changed at the end & converted to a belief in an afterlife. They also frequently ask me if I think I will see him again.
Carl faced his death with unflagging courage & never sought refuge in illusions. The tragedy was that we knew we would never see each other again. I don’t ever expect to be reunited with Carl. But, the great thing is that when we were together, for nearly twenty years, we lived with a vivid appreciation of how brief & precious life is. We never trivialized the meaning of death by pretending it was anything other than a final parting. Every single moment that we were alive & we were together was miraculous — not miraculous in the sense of inexplicable or supernatural. We knew we were beneficiaries of chance… That pure chance could be so generous & so kind… That we could find each other, as Carl wrote so beautifully in Cosmos, you know, in the vastness of space & the immensity of time… That we could be together for twenty years. That is something which sustains me & it’s much more meaningful…
The way he treated me & the way I treated him, the way we took care of each other & our family, while he lived. That is so much more important than the idea I will see him someday. I don’t think I’ll ever see Carl again. But I saw him. We saw each other. We found each other in the cosmos, and that was wonderful.
Actually it’s because you are more used to seeing your face in the mirror (reflected). As all faces are slightly asymmetrical it looks different when you see yourself in a photo because your face is unreflected.
Other people always see your face as you see it in photos, so they’re used to it looking that way. This explains why your friends think you look better in photos than you think you do.
The ones that randomly send you a message asking how you are. It shows that they really care about you. That no matter how busy their life may be, they always find time for you. Sure, some people are just naturally friendly but it proves that there’s still true friends out there in a sea of fakes. If you have one of these, don’t neglect them. There’s not many of them left.
Here’s a tip for the do-it-yourself crowd: Go to your computer’s Start menu, and either go to “run” or just search for “cmd.” Open it up, and type in “ping [website address],”
Once you have the IP for a website, all you really need to do is enter it like you would a normal URL nd hit enter/press go. Typing in “18.104.22.168” should bring you to the front page of AO3, for example, just as typing “22.214.171.124/dashboard” should bring you straight to your Tumblr dashboard. Since we’re obviously bracing for the worst case scenario which would involve you not being able to access the internet regularly, you should, save this list.
Dear Tumblr-ers, -ites, ettes, and whatever other things you may prefer,
Please reblog the crap out of this. Add to it if you feel there is stuff necessary but missing.
P.S. Thank you to the lovely who wrote this up.
THIS ^^^^ Yes. Thank you SO much for doing this—we may unfortunately need this in the future, so thanks for that. ♥♥♥
“At some point, you have to make a decision. Boundaries don’t keep other people out. They fence you in. Life is messy. That’s how we’re made. So, you can waste your lives drawing lines. Or you can live your life crossing them.”—Grey’s Anatomy (via kari-shma)