Panic Terminal

my existence-II.

18. India.
I like those 2-am-talks.
I laugh at my own jokes. Really hard.
I like it when it's 1 am and 5 am.
I like lying on my room's floor.

Have a little dhoom while you're here.

blondosonichellcat:

  • he’s not dating me
  • that’s the problem

(via poeticoquetry)

rgfellows:

dandraco:

hollyoakhill:

do you ever think about how little Michelangelo cared

All right, everyone, grab a chair and sit back because I’m going to share with you what I learned about Michelangelo and the Sistine Chapel in my Art History Class.

The man NEVER wanted to paint the damn thing. But the pope at the time “forced him to” According to my teacher. Michelangelo hated this man, I MEAN REALLY HATED HIM. So did a majority of people. The pope’s nickname translated literally means “Terrible pope”.

And the working conditions were awful. He had to work on his back with all that paint, which is filled with some toxic shit that gave Michelangelo a limp for the rest of his life.
(Also, our teacher made us get on our backs and try drawing with both hands JUST to prove how bad and uncomfortable it is.)

At the time, the ceiling was so high, you could barely see it. You need binoculars to get a good look at what’s up there, by the time people could see the paintings, there was a lot of weird symbolism that Michelangelo hid up there.

This one? The creation of the sun and moon? God is mooning you. And the pope and all others after him prayed under that without knowing.

This one? At the time, dissecting was sacrilegious and everyone found out how behind God was what looked like half a brain. blah blah, science, science, that pissed everyone off.

And also, ALLLLLLL the men and women in the Sistine Chapel are all on fucking steroids. My teacher described the women’s bodies as "Men bodies with boobs slapped on."

And then there is this:

Now this is the back wall. Michelangelo actually wanted to paint this one after he finished the ceiling. (and there was a different pope too, I believe.) However, originally, EVERYONE in that painting was naked. And they didn’t like it. Adam and Eve naked? That’s cool. But Jesus? Now you crossed the line. So the pope at the time hired someone else to censor it and give the important figures clothes. He worked on it for 6 or 9 months before he died.

And then the symbolism in this one is great. Somewhere in the right, there are homosexuals in heaven. (No matter what, the Vatican will say “Those straight men are happy” I’ll get to that in a second), Michelangelo painted himself near Jesus, and the terrible pope is in hell with a snake biting his balls.

And if you were to point ANY of this out to the Vatican, they will deny all of it and claim Michelangelo was a catholic hero. In fact, when they discovered the symbolism around the 60s or 70s, the guy who told the Vatican was kicked out of the Vatican for life.

TL;DR: Michelangelo hated the pope and made the best “fuck you” of all time.

YO. ALL OF THIS^. Michelangelo was hella grumpy all of the time. It was fantastic.

However, as beautiful as this commentary is, I’m gonna make a little correction. The Pope isn’t the one in hell getting his balls bitten; that guy is actually the Papal Minister of Ceremonies a the time, Biagio de Cesena. 

See, when Michelangelo was painting this, as you said, lots of people were uncomfortable with all of the nudity (especially because the Last Judgement [back wall mural] was painted much later when nudity in religious art was even more controversial than before), but the dude who was the angriest was de Cesena. 

He was so angry that he reportedly burst in on Michelangelo while he was working (which is already a big no-no because Michelangelo’s requirements for working were mostly “fuck the hell off and leave me alone or else I quit and I will stab you in the eye with my paintbrush/chisel”.). He then proceeds to tell Michelangelo that this fresco is disgusting and obscene and shame on him etc etc. He also referred to it as “i stui di nudi”, which means “A stew of nudes” which is one of the best descriptions of a thing ever, if you ask me. 

So Michelangelo, probably on the cusp of homicide is like “Thank you for the notes. Now get the fuck out,” and de Cesena reluctantly does. 

Later, he comes to see the finished product and finds that Michelangelo had painted his portrait down in Hell to represent the Minos, King of the Dead. He has the ears of an ass and the above described crotch biting snake:

image

Upon seeing this and being enraged, de Cesena went to the Pope to demand that it be changed and that Michelangelo be punished. However, the Pope was SO incredibly done dealing with Michelangelo’s snark, tantrums, and general hatred of the world and everyone in it, that he didn’t want to do shit. 

The Pope’s response to him was literally to say “As Pope, I have a lot of influence on Earth and up in Heaven, but I have no jurisdiction in Hell. You’re shit out of luck.” 

And it stayed.

Michelangelo, grade A artist, snark master, and professional dick.

image

(via sherlockedpotterheadinpurgatory)

violinvirtuoso:

I’ve recently decided to freeze myself to -273℃. My friends think I’ll die, but I’ll be 0K.

(via xxxggxxx)

Never regret a day in your life: good days give happiness, bad days give experience, worst days give lessons, and best days give memories.

Do you ever feel yourself going slightly mad, like actually mad because even when you aren’t doing anything the voices in your head just dont stop THEY JUST DONT STOP and lie there hoping to fall asleep soon so that you don’t have hear these voices ? Yeah I hope this goes away before I lose my sanity. I don’t want ti think I don’t want any scenarios any stories any fantasies in my head I just want calm
Just calm and that just doesn’t happen and it is driving me crazy

thisgingerisdonewithurshit:

  • joins tumblr to pass time
  • becomes a radical feminist

(via cryingarabella)

I’m so tired of not wanting to talk to people, I don’t want to push them away but I just don’t want to talk and they all care about me and love me but …I don’t like to talk anymore. This is exhausting I don’t hate them but I just .just. When I’m in class or working I am not emotionally tired but on weekends it’s just like…I have my people yet I don’t? Not that working towards my goal is making me sick but yhis loneliness is getting a little too much…it’s been way too long
I can’t even talk to my own best friend freely anymore .all of these emotions are way too much to handle I just want a clear head just god please

officialburger:

im not like other teenagers, im 51

(via trickster-butt)

trashnojutsu:

i dont trust people who are organised enough to balance a fuck ton of school stuff on top of a normal life because you know who else could do that??? fucking light yagami

(via hansoloe)

Asker Anonymous Asks:
Tell a chemistry joke please
panicterminal panicterminal Said:

bombing:

two chemists walk into a bar. they exchange glances and right away the bartender knows where this is going. one chemist clears his throat and begins to order a “glass of h2o” while the other sits quietly, almost trembling with anticipation. the first chemist completes his order and the second opens his mouth to hit the h2o2 punchline, but before he can, his head explodes in a mass of red.

the first chemist blinks with surprise as blood, brain and skull fragments splatter all over his pristine white coat and the counter. after a stunned moment of silence, a woman screams and all hell breaks loose. the patrons begin knocking one another in a mad dash to the door as the chemists body slumps off the stool and slides to the floor. the first chemist is still too stunned to speak. 

on the roof of the building across the street, the sniper racks the bolt back and sends the spent case flying as another one takes its place. exhaling, he steadies the crosshairs directly on the head of the only chemist still breathing. the bar is empty now, save for the bartender who’s been watching the scene without a word. 

with wide eyes, the chemist raises his head to face the man behind the counter, only to find him staring intently at the window. he too looks behind him to the panes of glass, only to squint as the laser flits across his eyes. 

"it’s nothing personal," says the bartender. 
"strictly business." 

the chemist whirls around just in time to see the him dip his head in a curt nod. across the street, the sniper recognizes the signal and pulls the trigger without a moments hesitation, watching dark red fill his scope for the second time that day. raising his head, he pushes himself out of prone and stretches until he feels his phone vibrate. pulling it out of his pocket, he flips it open. 

"what do you want me to do with them?" 

he walks to the edge and looks down at the broken window of the bar below. 

"barium."