vicloud:

Giethoorn in Netherlands has no roads or any modern transportation at all, only canals. Well, and 176 bridges too. Tourists have to leave their cars outside of the village and travel here by foot or boat by. So you can probably imagine how peaceful it is here.

#peter pan is one of the most sinister characters in children’s literature and you will never convince me otherwise can you explain why?

justatinysootsprite:

6stronghands:

moderntrickster:

zlot:

fleete:

lotstradamus:

  • sneaks into people’s bedrooms in the middle of the night
  • literally steals children and spirits them away
  • supposedly all of these children are ”lost” and fell out of their prams and whatnot but he also happily absconded with wendy, michael and john who were not even a little bit lost 
  • chopped a man’s hand off and fed it to a crocodile nbd
  • (peter is supposed to be a child can we bear this in mind) 
  • at the end when he rescues the lost boys et al he sneaks onto the jolly roger and slaughters ten pirates before they even realise he’s there
  • boy is a stone cold killer yo
  • and slightly just keeps a running verbal tally through all of it like those children are so unfazed by Peter Pan, Killing Machine
  • and a couple of quotes from the text to top it all off: 
  • and when [the lost boys] seem to be growing up, which is against the rules, Peter thins them out;
  • peter thins them out
  • okay
  • and my personal favourite: 
  • He often went out alone, and when he came back you were never absolutely certain whether he had had an adventure or not. He might have forgotten it so completely that he said nothing about it; and then when you went out you found the body;
  • THEN WHEN YOU WENT OUT YOU FOUND THE BODY
  • ?????????????????????????

I wrote my undergrad thesis on that little fucker!! Protip: read the original novelization of Peter Pan. It will weird you the fuck out.

My favorite part is when he scares Hook by mimicking the croc’s ticking noise. Except, in the book, he doesn’t do this on purpose. Instead he’s swimming along to the ship, hears the ticking, and starts ticking along, compulsively. For a few minutes, he sort of FORGETS that he’s human and his mind goes animal-blank, and he’s just rolling along ticking like the crocodile because HE THINKS HE’S A CROCODILE. Fun times.

My thesis was about how he’s a fundamentally amoral character. He does what he likes, and whenever anything happens that could result in character growth, he just FORGETS it.

Peter Pan is seriously like the scary child monster in a horror movie.

If you read the first appearance of Peter in Barrie’s The Little White Bird (later published alone as Peter Pan in Kensington Gardens), it is fairly apparent that Barrie originally conceived of Peter as a ghost of a child who died of exposure in the park overnight, and who now buries other children who get lost in the park after the gates are shut. It ends: “But how strange for parents, when they hurry into the Gardens at the opening of the gates looking for their lost one, to find the
sweetest little tombstone instead. I do hope that Peter is not too
ready with his spade.”

Peter Pan: sort of a kid, but mostly some kind of child-shaped GOBLIN OR SOMETHING idk

That is 100% where Peter came from, but the story is even more complicated and bizarre than that. Barrie spent twenty some odd years writing and revising Peter Pan, in various incarnations, and the true story behind how LWB, Kensington Gardens, Peter & Wendy, and Peter Pan came to be is  just… it’s quite unsettling, really. More or less so, depending on which rumors you believe about Barrie and how much stock you want to put into various biographies. But I do recommend you read the Lost Boys biography (Andrew Birkin) if you want to know the truly uncomfortable history behind it.

And yes, Peter was meant to be demonic and amoral, in Barrie’s own words. In fact, Barrie loudly complained about the statue of Peter in Kensington Gardens, because it didn’t “convey the devil in Peter”. Although, I reckon he was more pissed off by the fact that the sculptor, who Barrie paid out of his own pocket to erect the statue, used another boy as the model rather than the images that Barrie gave him to use and, frankly, if I was paying for something like that, I’d be pissed off too.

We need to talk about Peter

no one mentioned that he is twelve years old and has never lost his baby teeth and is described as having tiny tiny teeth with wide wide gaps, which is when i stopped reading the book, and liking peter pan, forever

aconitvms:

orikomi:

queensimia:

rewritethis-story:

santagivemeapony:

queenofsabah:

askragtatter:

discoverynews:

micdotcom:

Do this four times repeatedly and you’ll be out. But how does it work? There’s some real brain science behind it.

We’re trying this tonight!

It’s about time someone got around to uncovering all the cheat codes for this “human being” software. It’s only been out for like 10,000 years.

?????????????

I’ve used this technique for about a year, and I can safely say that it has efficiently transformed my sleeping habits from several hours of struggle to fall asleep, to passing out in a matter of minutes.

It’s a form of Alexander Technique. It’s a technique that was designed for actors to keep their body in ready working condition and give it the best way to perform. This is the method used to calm, and center the body. Once the body is at that point it can perform anything you want it to.

Reblogging for later reference after I tried it earlier today to try to calm down. It actually does help a lot, not just for sleep but if you have problems with anxiety.

My default mental setting is “vibrating intensely in the background.” After doing this, I felt noticeably calm and relaxed – I wasn’t as fixated on my breathing, I wasn’t tense, my movements weren’t jerky and I didn’t feel like I had to be as tense as possible to be under control. 10/10 would recommend.

me gonna try it

dont wanna reblog but insomnia is a bitch for some ppl so heres for my mutuals having trouble sleeping.

Concept Playlists

freesnack:

As Requested 

+ You walk out of your shitty roadside motel room that you’ve been staying in since you ran away from home. It hasn’t been cleaned since the 50s but at least no one will find you out here, in the middle of the desert. You head towards the ice machine, but someone is already there. It’s the most popular girl in school, who you’ve had a crush on since 6th grade. She’s run away too. 

+ The year is 1987, You’re part of a ragtag band of misfits that have been friends since childhood. All of you are gay, but no one has admitted it yet so rifts are forming in the gang. One summer morning you roller skate over to your best friend, the only other girl in the groups house to tell her you’re in love with her. Will it tear group apart once and for all or bring you back together? 

+  You and your closest friends sit on the roof of your suburban house watching the sunset. The crisp, nearly-autumn breeze blows against your over sized hoodie while you sip cheap, lukewarm beer from a paper bag. No one says anything, no one has to. 

+ It’s 1:30 am and you’re driving out of the city with your girlfriend asleep in the passenger seat. there are lights glowing on the highway and in the city behind you but it feels like its just the two of you, and you wish it could last forever

+ You’re on the road with a crappy RV you bought somewhere sketchy with your best friend and her dog on the trip of a lifetime trying to make it as a bluegrass singer. You fall in love over crumpled maps, roadside lemonade, campfire sing alongs, and grimy dive bars where you pay for meals by washing dishes. 

+ You walk into your room, satin gown flowing in your wake,You dramatically collapse into a dark velvet chair as if the cameras are rolling. You put on a record and pour your fourth glass of red wine. Your fifth husband has mysteriously died, good thing he left everything to you in the will.

+ You’re at a Halloween party in the basement of a seedy punk club, so wasted you can’t see straight. The ground starts shaking. More than it was before, are you imagining it? No. The bands screaming has gone from angry to terrified. The apocalypse is happening right now. 

+ You stand in front of the house at the edge of town. The house with boarded up windows. The house with broken glass in the yard instead of flowers, like everyone else in your small misty mountain town. The house no one talks about. The house you only go when you have no where else to go. You have someone to find in there, someone you need to bring home. 

+ You’re a music producer who died overdosing on cocaine at a club in the 70s. You awaken in the exact spot you died in the year 2073. Youre hungry, thirsty, and hornier than you’ve ever been. But most importantly, you look as fly as you always have and you’re surrounded by beautiful women. 

+ She’s an urban witch. A drugstore sorceress, mixing potions of Xanax and gasoline. Selling them on a street corner in the east village. No one knows her name, few know her face, But they say you’ll know her when you see her. You approach her on a chilled November night and offer a pack of cigarettes for a love potion. Hands shaking with anxiety and cold. She looks you in the eye and tells you you don’t need love potion. She’ll give you everything you want for free. 

+ You’re a nerd, a nobody, the kid who sits by herself at lunch. The kid who never talks and never gets noticed by anyone. Yet here you are, dressed in your big sisters clothes, standing in the coolest girl in schools living room while a party rages around you. Tonight you’re going to be cool. Tonight you’re going to be the life of the party. Tonight she’s finally going to realize you exist. This is either the bravest thing you’ve ever done or the stupidest.

+ You’ve been climbing the mountain for three days and three nights. Out of food, out of water, and utterly, painfully alone. Just when you think you can walk no farther, you hear a waterfall in the distance. With your remaining ounce of strength you launch yourself the final few yards. You collapse to your knees and peer into the clear, cool water. But Instead of seeing your face your entire life is reflected back at you.