A tiger mother lost her cubs from premature labour. Shortly after she became depressed and her health declined, and she was diagnosed with depression. So they wrapped up piglets in tiger cloth, and gave them to the tiger. The tiger now loves these pigs and treats them like her babies.
Jesus Christ. I hope these are legit because some of these are raising FABULOUS questions.
you know, my mom told me that when i was little i used to tell her recurring tidbits of a linear series of events from “when i was older”
she mentioned me pointing an old man and getting really excited and saying “hey that man was my student when i used to teach piano!” in a situation, or saying “you know i like you more than my other mom, she was so mean” and my personal favourite is the one where i said “i used to have a gilrfriend once, you know, we were on my motorcyle and i lost control and fell off a cliff on the roadside, i really hope she’s okay”
Children are scary as fuck. I need to stay away
Wasn’t there a post going around about how maybe the ‘Light at the end of the Tunnel’ that people go to when they die is the opening of the womb when we’re born? And we gradually forget our previous lives as we grow older? Because that post combined with this post scares the living crap outta me.
French artist Bruno Catalano displayed ten life-size, figurative sculptures at the port of Marseille. Inspired by travel, his surreal bronze sculptures represent a world citizen who’s in search of his or her own missing pieces.
ROLLING STONE’S 50 BEST ALBUM’S OF 2013: #1 - VAMPIRE WEEKEND, ‘MODERN VAMPIRES OF THE CITY’
The first two Vampire Weekend albums showed off a sound unlike any other in rock: a precocious mix of indie pop, African guitar grooves and wry, boat-shoe-preppy lyrics that were sometimes too cute for their own good. But with Modern Vampires of the City, they went deeper, adding scope and ambition to all the sophistication. In 2013, no other record mixed emotional weight with studio-rat craft and sheer stuck-in-your-head hummability like this one. It’s one of rock’s great albums about staring down adulthood and trying not to blink — that moment where, as singer Ezra Koenig puts it, you realize “wisdom’s a gift/But you’d trade it for youth.” The music is sculpted and subtly bonkers, with orchestral sweeps balancing hymnlike beauty and dub-inflected grooves. Koenig earns those Paul Simon comparisons thanks to vivid lyrics about youngish things in crisis — the unemployed friend who can’t find a reason to shave in “Obvious Bicycle,” the weary couple soldiering through the road-trip epic “Hannah Hunt.” Then there’s Koenig himself, filling songs like “Worship You” with religious allusions, evoking the search for meaning and faith with wit and skepticism. The album’s fog-over-New York cover reminds us just how hard that search has become. The music makes it feel worth the heartache just the same.