
You were on your way home when you died.
It was a car accident. Nothing particularly remarkable, but fatal nonetheless. You left behind a wife and two children. It was a painless death. The EMTs tried their best to save you, but to no avail. Your body was so utterly shattered you were better off, trust me.
And that’s when you met me.
“What… what happened?” You asked. “Where am I?”
“You died,” I said, matter-of-factly. No point in mincing words.
“There was a… a truck and it was skidding…”
“Yup,” I said.
“I… I died?”
“Yup. But don’t feel bad about it. Everyone dies,” I said.
You looked around. There was nothingness. Just you and me. “What is this place?” You asked. “Is this the afterlife?”
“More or less,” I said.
“Are you god?” You asked.
“Yup,” I replied. “I’m God.”
“My kids… my wife,” you said.
“What about them?”
“Will they be all right?”
“That’s what I like to see,” I said. “You just died and your main concern is for your family. That’s good stuff right there.”
You looked at me with fascination. To you, I didn’t look like God. I just looked like some man. Or possibly a woman. Some vague authority figure, maybe. More of a grammar school teacher than the almighty.
“Don’t worry,” I said. “They’ll be fine. Your kids will remember you as perfect in every way. They didn’t have time to grow contempt for you. Your wife will cry on the outside, but will be secretly relieved. To be fair, your marriage was falling apart. If it’s any consolation, she’ll feel very guilty for feeling relieved.”
“Oh,” you said. “So what happens now? Do I go to heaven or hell or something?”
“Neither,” I said. “You’ll be reincarnated.”
“Ah,” you said. “So the Hindus were right,”
“All religions are right in their own way,” I said. “Walk with me.”
You followed along as we strode through the void. “Where are we going?”
“Nowhere in particular,” I said. “It’s just nice to walk while we talk.”
“So what’s the point, then?” You asked. “When I get reborn, I’ll just be a blank slate, right? A baby. So all my experiences and everything I did in this life won’t matter.”
“Not so!” I said. “You have within you all the knowledge and experiences of all your past lives. You just don’t remember them right now.”
I stopped walking and took you by the shoulders. “Your soul is more magnificent, beautiful, and gigantic than you can possibly imagine. A human mind can only contain a tiny fraction of what you are. It’s like sticking your finger in a glass of water to see if it’s hot or cold. You put a tiny part of yourself into the vessel, and when you bring it back out, you’ve gained all the experiences it had.
“You’ve been in a human for the last 48 years, so you haven’t stretched out yet and felt the rest of your immense consciousness. If we hung out here for long enough, you’d start remembering everything. But there’s no point to doing that between each life.”
“How many times have I been reincarnated, then?”
“Oh lots. Lots and lots. An in to lots of different lives.” I said. “This time around, you’ll be a Chinese peasant girl in 540 AD.”
“Wait, what?” You stammered. “You’re sending me back in time?”
“Well, I guess technically. Time, as you know it, only exists in your universe. Things are different where I come from.”
“Where you come from?” You said.
“Oh sure,” I explained “I come from somewhere. Somewhere else. And there are others like me. I know you’ll want to know what it’s like there, but honestly you wouldn’t understand.”
“Oh,” you said, a little let down. “But wait. If I get reincarnated to other places in time, I could have interacted with myself at some point.”
“Sure. Happens all the time. And with both lives only aware of their own lifespan you don’t even know it’s happening.”
“So what’s the point of it all?”
“Seriously?” I asked. “Seriously? You’re asking me for the meaning of life? Isn’t that a little stereotypical?”
“Well it’s a reasonable question,” you persisted.
I looked you in the eye. “The meaning of life, the reason I made this whole universe, is for you to mature.”
“You mean mankind? You want us to mature?”
“No, just you. I made this whole universe for you. With each new life you grow and mature and become a larger and greater intellect.”
“Just me? What about everyone else?”
“There is no one else,” I said. “In this universe, there’s just you and me.”
You stared blankly at me. “But all the people on earth…”
“All you. Different incarnations of you.”
“Wait. I’m everyone!?”
“Now you’re getting it,” I said, with a congratulatory slap on the back.
“I’m every human being who ever lived?”
“Or who will ever live, yes.”
“I’m Abraham Lincoln?”
“And you’re John Wilkes Booth, too,” I added.
“I’m Hitler?” You said, appalled.
“And you’re the millions he killed.”
“I’m Jesus?”
“And you’re everyone who followed him.”
You fell silent.
“Every time you victimized someone,” I said, “you were victimizing yourself. Every act of kindness you’ve done, you’ve done to yourself. Every happy and sad moment ever experienced by any human was, or will be, experienced by you.”
You thought for a long time.
“Why?” You asked me. “Why do all this?”
“Because someday, you will become like me. Because that’s what you are. You’re one of my kind. You’re my child.”
“Whoa,” you said, incredulous. “You mean I’m a god?”
“No. Not yet. You’re a fetus. You’re still growing. Once you’ve lived every human life throughout all time, you will have grown enough to be born.”
“So the whole universe,” you said, “it’s just…”
“An egg.” I answered. “Now it’s time for you to move on to your next life.”
And I sent you on your way.

Former Disneyland mermaid, Edie, shares what it was like to don a tail and swim in the happiest place on earth:
Being a professional mermaid for Walt was nothing to take lightly. The Productions Department measured us from hip to toe for neoprene tails, complete with large flukes, and green starfish bras. We were taught to slither into the Submarine Lagoon from a hidden chamber and dolphin kick underwater to magically surface in the center of the pool. There we sat on a rock and untangled our hair with immense blue and yellow plastic combs, and plucked ersatz lyres.We worked in shifts of two, and traded off hourly.
Each time a submarine passed, we dove underwater to frolic about, hang upside down by spinning our tails, and to wave at curious faces plastered against the portholes. With practice we learned to smile without emitting bubble screens that would distort our faces into repulsive creatures from the deep. For all this we were paid $1.85 an hour - a whopping net of $59.55 each week.
(via luludream)
What happens when you scream out of your window in Sweden at night
I’m swedish and you probably think this is a joke, but its true
(via dougie-poynter)
Crystallized Leg made for Viktoria Modesta playing the Ice Queen at the London 2012 Paralympic Closing Ceremony
(Source: penrose-stairs, via decayedbones)

Am I the only one that knows the stereotypical heart shape was meant to be two hearts fused together?
(Source: smilewill-killyou, via sarusjones)
What you’ll need:
·A coin
·Clear glue
·A gay, cheesy fanfic extract
·A pendant ring (from crafts sotres)
1. Take a paragraph from your favorite fanfic or book and print it or photocopy it. Make sure your printer is not in “Draft” mode.
2. Clean the coin completely and place it just where you want it to be, over what you want to have in the pendant.
3. Cut roughly around that specific spot. Cover the coin with glue and paste it behind the text, using the light against it to guide you.
*If your paper isn’t thick enough, you may want to paste a blank piece of paper underneath your text as a base.4. Cut out the surplus.
5. Put just a little bit glue over the text, spread it outwars and let it dry.
6. Add a thick, thick layer of glue. This will act as the acrylic that will protect your pendant once it’s completely dry. I suggest you to let it dry overnight.
If you want to, you can add a second layer once the first one is dry. This will make it look more… real.Finally, paste the pendant ring on the back of the coin.
Warnings:
·Try avoiding smut. You don’t want to walk around with the word “pounding” hanging from your neck, do you?
·If anyone asks about it, try not to panic and hide it underneath your shirt.
·Be prepared for fangirling outbrusts. Just thinking that you have your OTP in your necklace may give you feels.No, I did NOT cut the HP book. Guys, look at what the text says, “Harry loved Draco”. As far as I know, that line is not in the book.
(via japanesesusofsuburbia)