I’ve given up trying to correct people.
I always use the phrase, “Murdered seven different ways from Sunday”, when people try to pronounce my last name.
I have a fairly regular name: Daisy, but I live in France where everyone goes: Desiree? Dazie? Daghjdskgjc?
Attack on Teen Titans omg
HOLY FUCK. YES. YES
Are we all going to ignore the fact that Robin is holding a fUCKING BATARANG.
BECAUSE I AM HAVING A LITTLE PANIC ATTACK JUST THINKING ABOUT IT
This line encapsulates the concept of a good kid in a bad city, and it cuts into one of the most moral questions in human existence: Can good come from evil? The best part about the line, as is true of the best poetry, is that it doesn’t answer the question it asks. For Kendrick’s immediate purposes, he’s the flower and the city is the dark room. The question is: Can you trust him?