You are a water canteen in a desert.

You are the best kind of dream, a dream come true.

Want to star in our own fairytale?

Someone better sound an alarm because you are dynamite.

I'm psychic. I see me and you in the future.

In case I need CPR, can I have your number?

My lucky numbers are your digits.

Knock knock.

Who’s there?

To.

To who?

No. To whom.

(This one is my favorite)

Did you here about the woman who had breast surgery? It went horribly wrong and she ended up having sticks and wood stuck in them. Yikes.

Yeah. It would be great if this joke had a punchline, wooden tit.

How did Harry Potter get down the hill?

Walking.

J.K. Rowling.

(I found this one on a website full of motivational quotes which in of itself makes me laugh)

Knowledge is power.

Power corrupts.

Study hard. Be evil.

(Courtesy of Siri - this has two answers)

Why did the teddy bear turn down the cake?

A: he couldn’t bear it. (My brother came up with this answer)

B: he was stuffed.

What do you call a fruity telephone?

The Jelly. (In Britain they call the telephone a Telly)

What do you make in teapot that cares about its looks?

Vani-tea.

You aren’t born with a photographic memory.

You have to develop it.

Why did the burger cross the road?

To get to the other slider.

Hope I brightened someone’s day with these!

https://www.reddit.com/r/formula1/comments/bnaceq/if_you_could_eliminate_a_race_within_the_year/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=ios_app

Hopefully this makes you laugh as hard as it did me. Sending love ❤️

A few jokes, for good measure:

What did the pirate say on his birthday? Aye matey!

What did Snow White day when she sat on Pinocchio’s face? LIE TO ME!

Mickeys therapist sits across from him and says,” i understand you’re upset, but i don’t see how Minnie is insane.”

He says, “i didn’t say she was insane, i said she was FUCKING GOOFY!”

What did Cinderella do when she got to the ball? Gagged.

Woody and buzz were extremely confused when they met Andy’s mom’s toys, who also go by Woody and Buzz.

With no sound, only caged emotion based on its definition. Words on paper carry purpose. A word can jumps ponds, shape a smile, inspire another, or create tears as it leaves its lasting footprints behind.

Cultivated from the overflowing feelings that spills from my heart, the ones that threaten to hold me down and steal my breath if not released.

Words spoken or unspoken must first have been felt. Single words can often carry a heavy load, yet placed within the boundaries of others its impact can be vast and long lasting.

They hold such power these words, they carry such value. They are often the reason for war and hold the power to stop it. So please choose your words carefully.

A constant headache and an incessant drag, depression is the heaviest drug there is. Every morning and every night, sunny skies or rainfall, depression is your best and only friend. Forget hope, forget fun, forget desires, and be stuck in a deep haze of mediocrity and blandness. Depression is not only a state of being sad, it is a disease that conquers the ability to feel emotion, whether good or bad, whatsoever. It not only involves the mind, but it also involves the body and thoughts. Depression creeps up on you and before you know it, life is suddenly not as beautiful and exciting as you hoped it would be.

Depression feels like you are sinking down deeply into yourself, repressed from the world around you. Just as a rock thrown into a murky lake sinks slowly and recedes from sight, your spirit and body soon are emerged in a melancholy of despair. Depression is often characterised as a “disorder” and an inability to concentrate or feel. When happiness’ short relief ends, depression’s long and luring cloud takes over and absorbs you. The roots of depression can be caused by rejection, fear, loneliness, and failure. For instance, everything that I thought I once thought has turned grey. All this potential has seemed to fade away. All sensations have turned numb. Maybe I am just being dumb,but it is all the same. Being in love and having the most supportive and beautiful girlfriend in the world still can not stop my mind from zoning out and being absorbed in a dream of nothingness. At eighteen years I have obtained everything I had hoped and dreamed of. I have a girlfriend, a steady income, in a rock band, amazing friends and family, but there is still something wrong. I am more depressed and withdrawn from life than i have ever been. It is strange how someone so happy and ambitious has turned into a blob of a human being. The feelings of worthlessness, anger and sadness are all that run through my mind and body. All though playing the guitar and making music gives me a short release from the depression, no cure has been found yet for me. Maybe if I try and see the glass as half full and not as half empty I will be cured, but that is easier said than done. It is in my bones and in my blood to have a lack of interest in the world around me.

Love,boredom, excitement and happiness are all meaningless and miniscule terms that cannot manifest into actual feelings and emotions due to the heavy and powerful effects of depression. Depression is the only thing I feel and the only way of life I know. I do not feel like a strong and powerful human being, but instead I feel like the sinking rock falling into the abyss of the murky , grey depression.

A few people have recently expressed kind thoughts on my femininity, and I so appreciate that because I love being a woman. To be feminine is to be soft and tender, but it does not equate to fragility or subserviency. With that said, it does not make you less of a woman if you are not as gentle. Being strong or effective does not require that one always be loud, angry, or generally intimidating. There is strength in grace - in control. Take your time to measure your words, to be cognizant, and compassionate. Know that emotions (your own or others’) don’t control you unless you allow it and that you can be vulnerable without breaking. Be fluid enough that you are resilient, steadfast but not so stubborn that you are blind. Be confident enough to learn, (just) listen, and allow others to take the reins sometimes for doing so does not mean you are sacrificing your independence. Own your roles, body, feelings, opinions, and sexuality - don’t hide, neglect, or deprive yourself because of the fears and insecurities of others.⁣⁣⁣

⁣⁣

I’m inherently feminine but am ultimately human; there’s no need to limit myself by choosing to be one thing or another. One can be nurturing and still set boundaries, sophisticated and still playful, classy and still sexy, opinionated and still respectful, brave with somethings yet fearful of others. Lastly, the fun part - as a woman, you can enjoy primping from time to time while still maintaining practicality. Take pride in your appearance, as the degree that you care for your external self reflects how you nurture your internal self.

#opinion #nonfiction #femininity #womanhood #female

There could be a time when you are asked the question, by yourself or maybe another. This will be no ordinary question, nor will it be one for which you have a readily available answer. It is an unsettling moment that your consciousness may first try to pass off as nothing more than the fanciful whimsy of a bored mind. You vainly attempt to carry on as if the world had not just been set ablaze, trying in futility to focus on the common and mundane pieces that make up the fabric of your day to day life but the flames will not subside. Instead they grow from a small spark in your subconscious, quickly jumping breaks and spreading till they propagate into the wild blaze that consumes all your thoughts. Quickly it burns through mind and soul until nothing is left except the smoldering ashes of what your world used to be. Only then, as you sift through ashes, can you see the question for what it is. It is the universe challenging you to truly understand it better.

To know something in its essence, to know what drives it, what inspires it, is to obtain true understanding. This is the loftiest of goals and one our society constantly fails, not to achieve, but pursue. We live in a society of instant information where so many of us confuse knowledge with wisdom. We know so much but understand so little. From the time we are young we are indoctrinated with too many facts and not enough ideas. It is the tragedy of our generation that has built a wall around our minds. Great leaps of innovation and shifts in philosophy have never been achieved by wrapping one’s self in the established and comfortable. They are driven by the new and the vexing. There are many people who fear the flames as well as the challenges it brings. They beat back at the fire because it threatens the foundation they have built their view of the world on. A view that they have wrapped themselves in like a childhood blanket. As when we were children, we are unwilling to let it go of it all the while failing to realize that to have a better house one must first build a stronger foundation.

I implore you not to make this mistake because it is a signature moment in your life with origins that reach back to the inception of the soul itself. It may have first been contemplated around a prehistoric fire as some distant ancestor searched the vastness of the nighttime sky asking, “Who am I?” Perhaps it was pondered by Adam and Eve outside the gates of Eden. Maybe the beginning matters and maybe it does not. For all I know that is the question for you. What truly matters is the way the fire changes you. The way it consumes the comfortably assumed and returns the fire hardened because I can promise you one thing. In today’s world unchallenged preconceived notions are truly root of all evil.

Stan awoke to the sound of his wife screaming.

It took him a second to remember he no longer slept in their king size, but a lonely full bed in the new budget apartment far away from their old one. From where Mona was taken. He had moved to be away from the haunting memories. But also from the monster that took her.

Buzzing filled his ears like static from an old box television growing louder as if screaming from terror.

Stan tried to sit up. He couldn’t move.

I’m too late, he thought. It’s already here. It’s found me.

The monster emerged from the dark closet, birthing itself from the shadows. Blackness dripped from its black long coat like amniotic fluid and it wore the same vile soft-brimmed hat the night it came for his wife. It floated toward Stan, its limbs shifting into cutting blades as it drew near, it’s toothy grin salivating, smiling.

Stan tried to throw his head to the side—move any part of his body—but it would not listen. It had abandoned him to the creature.

Darkness began to swallow the room. Stan wanted to scream, but nothing came out.

The buzzing became a high pitched, painful whir, like a dentist’s drill. And then a voice broke through the silence.

“Dada!” The three-year-old girl was crying.

Darkness stopped overtaking the room, and the hallway outside lit up warm and yellow. The monster turned away from Stan and looked toward the hall.

No, Stan thought.

Little footsteps padded against the hardwood floor quietly like dripping blood.

The monster pushed off the bed and started toward the footsteps.

Look at me! Take me! Stan’s mind screamed.

The thing turned toward Stan slowly, taking a different shape as it did so. Its black, shifting form began to curve here and there, solidifying. Its skin took on warmth and its coat became a cream, silk nightgown. The soft-brimmed hat collapsed down around its shoulders like brown, shiny hair.

Finally, it looked just like Mona.

She smiled at Stan with dripping, ravenous teeth. And then she turned and went to the hall just as Carrie, their daughter, stepped into view.

Stan tried to lunge at the monster, but he was helplessly sewn into the mattress.

Carrie looked up and saw her mother and stumbled backward into the wood banister. She steadied herself with small, chubby hands.

“Mommy?” Carrie rubbed her sleepy, weepy eyes and then blinked. “Mommy!” She reached her arms up and threw herself at the monster, but her arms swished through the creature like trying to catch fog.

“Are you a ghost, Mommy?” Carrie said, beginning to cry again.

The creature nodded a little too excitedly. “But you can come visit me and then I can hold you.” The monster used Mona’s gentle fingers to scratch a line in the air, tearing a black, smoking hole to another dimension.

Stan thrashed in bed without moving a muscle. His mind was huffing and sweating, but his body would not follow. He pushed and he shoved but remained still.

“Dada, can I go with mommy?” Carrie looked toward the hole with frightened eyes. Her voice sounded unsure, as if she didn’t really want to go, but didn’t want to hurt her mom’s feelings either.

Stan squeezed his muscles and his neck finally raised a couple of inches off the pillow to look Carrie in the eyes. He forced air from his diaphragm up and out his burning chest and into the air. "Don’t go" was what he meant to say. But his voice choked short.

“go.” He tried again.

“go.” No, no! Please!

“go.”

Even though it was a whisper, the word hit her face like the back of his hand. Tears welled up in her frowning eyes.

She nodded her head and looked up at the monster and then down. Mona motioned for the girl to go through the black hole.

Stan tried to scream “Stop!”, but it came out as a weak puff of air.

Carrie stepped toward the black hole which then reached for her and pulled her in with skin-slicing claws. She disappeared with a scream.

Mona turned around to face Stan and mimicked Carrie’s scream with a grin. Then, she used the same nail she had used to open the black door and drew it from the crown of her head, cutting her flesh down to her navel. The skin fell off of her and the monster reemerged from beneath. Carrie’s scream grew louder and louder until the light in the hall burst and blinded Stan.

Then the room was dark again.

As he regained his sight, Stan wished it had stayed pitch black forever.