#gratefulness

This is your sign to make a list of all the things you’re grateful for (that you can possibly think of). Even if it’s something you think is simple or stupid, it’s good practice to focus on the good things. This world and the life we live in it isn’t all bad, after all. Make your list as long as you can!

I’m grateful for:

• The fact that I’m alive + My body • My supportive and loving family • The sky being blue • My little sister • My mom being pregnant again • Trees existing • Clouds existing • The beauty and diversity of this world

I could add more but we’d be here all night LOL 😂🤣🤣

@waterm3l0n618 @reddest-death @toonsisters @hangwjj @endyxx @baronstopfan @brookesdreamery @xblueberryyx @catcgamingyt @artof-mirage @sneezywizo @falsetraditions @salemigre @ask-the-ancient-observer

"How happy are you?... It's your quality of life minus envy."

Love this. Such a wonderful philosophy. ✌️

Sam didn’t know why he cared. He kept telling himself that he didn’t need Dad to give him approval for making the honor roll, for winning the divisional soccer championship, for being a Mathlete. And yet here he was, putting all his experience being a practiced liar to good use—because that’s what Winchesters did—as an actor in this lousy school production of Our Town.

And it just didn’t seem fair that other people had families in the audience. And he had, what? Sense of a job well done? Arms long enough to pat his own back? Whatever. He was fine.

Afterwards, he pasted on a smile as his excited classmates high-fived him and waited for their parents to come backstage. Sam sat blankly in front of a mirror and wiped the stage makeup from his face. Then he saw Dean reflected behind him.

Sam couldn't keep the stupid grin off his face.

“That was cute, Sammy. I totally bought that you were a kid who liked wearing suspenders.”

Sam looked down at his costume. “I’ll let you borrow them if you play your cards right. The chicks’ll dig ‘em.”

Dean laughed. “I’m sure. How’s that working out for you?”

Sam shook his head. “Not well.”

“Their loss, Sammy.” Dean ruffled his hair and said, “Get a move on. I’ll drive you home, and we can get Frosties on the way.”