One Nice Bug Per Day
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
h
dirt enthusiast
Jules of Nature
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Janaina Medeiros
NASA
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Discoholic 🪩
oozey mess
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
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PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
shark vs the universe
RMH
d e v o n
@theartofmadeline
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@aversiontosideblogs
If you're following avermillionmiles for me as a person and not for me as the semi-present wheel of time blog, this is the sideblog that contains me as a person, (eventually) including the poems I was reading on tumblr live. It may serve as an alternative to those with zero interest in Wheel of Time.
If you're here for the poems (some of them are good!) here's what I think I'm doing with tags:
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A spoon's only objective in life is to make soup go upwards, and it knows this. That's why when you put one under a running tap it blasts the water way high. The spoon thinks there's suddenly TONS of soup to deal with and it freaks out.
OP I want you to know I think of this post every single time I have to wash a spoon.
i would like to be normal
Stay up for half an hour to an hour, go back to sleep for another 4&1/2. that's natural. Sleeping 8hrs in one stretch is /not/.
That was forced on modern society by the 15+ hour workday of the first factory workers.
Arthur Roger Ekirch’s biphasic sleep theory has been thoroughly debunked by studies of non-industrial people’s sleeping patterns. We still have hunter-gatherers today and we can ask them if they do biphasic sleep. They said no. They primarily sleep in a single, consolidated block (6–7 ish hours) rather than splitting their nights into Ekrich’s proposed “first sleep” and “second sleep.” Furthermore, Ekrich’s historical research methods were shoddy. He cherry-picked references from diaries and journals to fit his hypothesis of a biphasic sleep norm. These writings where people mentioned waking up in the middle of the night are part of the “sometimes people just wake up in the middle of the night” phenomenon I’m sure every contemporary adult and child has experienced.
I would say more, but I am tired. Please apologize for spreading horseshit on my post.
This is Tony (from the genus Fittonia). Certified Real Plant meant to live and not just die after blooming. Probably needs repotting already but I'm still figuring out the watering so
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Anyone got that poem written from the perspective of an English teacher where they know deeply personal things about their now adult students because of the essays they wrote
FOUND IT it was in one of my boards
Text ID:
Small Town English Teacher
In your town, former students sling your drinks, snap your x-rays, and report your news on TV. You hold their secrets because you remember their essays.
One returns from combat, homecoming party at the airport, and you know he only joined up because his mom was ashamed of him. You remember the essay.
One dies from an opioid OD and you know about the man who groped her at work and how she told his wife. You remember the essay.
One smiles and wins an award and you know her drunk dad pushed her mom into a wall. You remember the essay.
One closes her eyes halfway in the mugshot and you know she worked in assisted living and once brushed a dying woman's hair. You remember the essay.
- Jessie Lovett Allen
(c) 2020 by Jessie Lovett Allen
Jessie Lovett Allen teaches reading, writing, and literature at North Platte Community College in western Nebraska. She holds a doctorate in Literary Education from the Univerity of Wyoming. She can be reached at Jessie.lovett.allen @ gmail. com or @ jesslovettallen
End ID.
filling
i.
Conversation becomes
easier the more
words there are.
Listen to what's there,
listen for the gap
where voice belongs
and fill it with yourself
whatever doesn't fit will have to
wait
ii.
people make room for me.
they listen for what I haven't said and
hush what would fill that space
I know just what to say, I supply
just that
iii.
the best thing to say
is sometimes nothing.
sometimes you have to sit
and let nothing wash over you
with the rest of the noise, the
sound of no gaps
or gaps shaped like a pound of flesh
iv.
what haven't I said?
so much.
I leave nothing unsaid
if I can
when I can
because sometimes that nothing
piles up
v.
Writing becomes easier the more
words there are.
Listen to yourself,
listen for the gap
where words belong—
Take it for your own and
bring it down to paper
until
it
fills
got my annual practical haircut ✅️
price went up ten dollars from last year. which tbh was probably overdue by a good three years. As far as I know, it's been the same price for at least a decade, which can't be said of many things nowadays.
I got someone I'm pretty sure was considerably more experienced than the girl I had the past two years. (I go by a "whoever is lucky enough to answer the phone" method of making appointments, as seems to be the shop policy.)
I'm always confused as to whether the shampooing is Part of the Process or whether I'm paying extra for it. Anyway hairdresser was a level of professional that made me feel like a dog at the groomer's for some reason.
hair has Products in it that Smell (neutral). I rinsed off ~30 minutes after getting it cut because I was a food hazard and tried rinsing really thoroughly but the Smells persist. And I still managed to shed at least one hair into my own food.
I think I did manage to let him talk me into keeping it a tad longer than usual (they usually end up doing a little buzz at the back of the neck if I get it about where I want) because he seemed genuinely despairing about going any shorter. Like getting a hand mirror for me and going over my natural hairline (neck) and where that would leave the rest of the bob (just past chin length) (and, naturally, assuring me that with my curls it'll be shorter when it dries, as they all do) and surely that would be alright? and it felt like it would wound him as a professional if he was asked to go shorter. Not in a snobby "I know better than the customer who is a layperson" way, either.
Anyway gained some Insights as to why previous girl was so frustratingly hesitant to cut as short as I wanted. There's clearly something challenging technically about it and I may need to expand my knowledge of hairstyles to get anything shorter.
#mood today
The convergence
Babe, you okay? you reblogged “and we were nice to each other” like 12 times again
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when my shelter cat passes by me, he pauses for a second, and looks up. He is waiting for me to lean down, and touch my hand against his side, so that when he keeps walking, my hand skims across his fur. he doesn't really need attention. he has his own thoughts and plans. but after more than a year of living in our home, he has come to expect a moment of kindness whenever he crosses my path. if I don't do it, he will follow me. "where is your hand?" he asks, with his plaintive and impatient eyes. I give it to him. he bumps against it like a balloon before wandering away. this is a poem to me
This post has gone so much further than I expected it to. This is my sweet cat. His name is Eddie Potato.
Any plans for the weekend?
Yes
No
So I wrote "in closing" bc my dad's getting his socks scammed off him and won't listen to anyone about it, but at least he doesn't spend any money without talking to mom so scammers can't really get anything out of him, right?
Well today we had a mini sit down (big phone call) while my dad's visiting his dying brother because he's sent random people over three hundred dollars (money they don't have!) over the last two weeks. So mom's moving (most of the) money out of the joint account & we've scheduled a big sit down (lunch with everyone) for when he gets back for confrontation/intervention/to say that's what we'll be doing.
I was really hoping to be able to go about this a different way, by assessing his (probable) dementia and in so doing getting him to understand he cannot trust his own judgment, getting him medicated (since it'd be the kind that responds to medication), and then working on the scam stuff as cognition improved. Now it seems like we'll just restrict him from finances and call it solved without ever addressing the dementia until it becomes its own problem.
in closing
vampire folklore has got one thing right:
you can't be protected from the harm you invite
so even as you turn from words you can't hear
I cling to the hope that your mind's just not clear
because we understand there are words to be had
and mad as it makes you, it's rooted in fear
that you can't recognize the face at the door
that you're not as discerning as you were before
now there's blood in the water, you've attracted a crowd
fed on the drops of what you've said aloud
a new face approaches, it echoes your voice
and the choice between reason and being wowed
is easy for you; you've made it clear
there's only one voice that you want to hear
in love with false promises, in love with the guise
you envision a future that's built upon lies
when it once again crumbles with waves in the night
the light of perception never reaches your eyes
so remember as you wash your neck for the bite:
you can't be protected from the harm you invite
titling :(
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i hate it when i cant even write a poem about something because its too obvious. like in the airbnb i was at i guess it used to be a kids room cause you could see the imprint of one little glow in the dark star that had been missed and painted over in landlord white. like that's a poem already what's the point
you get it. you get the themes. i dont have time to do it justice. just look at it its on the ceiling
How not to explain tardigrades to children
now see,
in the springtime,
that pond is crawling with water bears
water bears, yes,
so don't go swimming in that pond
to tell the difference
between water bears and
regular bears,
simply count
the legs
a regular bear has four legs,
yes, you knew that, you're very smart,
but I bet you didn't know
a water bear has eight!
that's assuming you can spot them
—they're very hard to see,
see
one could be
right there
and you wouldn't even know
what? no,
I've never seen one myself
I've seen pictures
no, I'm not kidding,
they do exist;
ask your mother, she'll tell you—
they've even been sent to space,
like dogs were,
but without any oxygen
they're very good at holding breath,
better than dogs,
and better than bears
at hibernating,
better than fish
at drying out
they lay eggs,
had I mentioned?
you're right,
they don't sound much like bears at all!
in fact, they're very
very
very small
well,
if you're going to be like that,
I can tell
you're not ready
to hear about moss piglets
