this is a poem. To me.
Today's Document

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Andulka

Janaina Medeiros
cherry valley forever
Three Goblin Art
taylor price
Peter Solarz
Cosimo Galluzzi

roma★

if i look back, i am lost
tumblr dot com

★
AnasAbdin


sheepfilms
will byers stan first human second
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@greenapples5
this is a poem. To me.

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Ben Sledsens (Belgian, 1991) - Night Fishing (2022-2023)
september was practice… in october I’m getting my shit together
in november I'm getting my shit together
in december I’m getting my shit together
in february I’m getting my shit together
in march I’m getting my shit together
I keep going through the wrong portals….
Mondays aren't that bad once you cannot tell days apart from eachother

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i could never handle immortality not because of any existential reasons but because i know itd make my procrastination so much worse. catch me putting off tasks for decades. catch me putting off tasks for centuries. what do you mean that movie ive been meaning to get around to became lost media 40 years ago. what do you mean that landmark ive been meaning to visit has been eroded. oooh i got PLANY of time..............
I hate ruminating on what could have been. Out here thinking "if only I locked in when I was 13" are we serious
asking "hey is it fine if I smoke in here" and before you're able to answer I've already set up a full rack of salmon over a fire in your living room
Do we have enough time to cook? Or are we already cooked ????

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🧵🐦 Les voilà, les “oiseaux couturiers” : deux petits architectes qui cousent littéralement leur maison avec des brins d’herbe.
On dirait un atelier de haute couture version jungle : points de couture, tressage, assemblage… et résultat impeccable.
Question sérieuse : vous seriez capable de fabriquer quelque chose d’aussi propre… sans mode d’emploi ?
📸Inconnu
#Nature #Oiseaux #Insolite #Animaux #Nid
the desire to engage in my hobbies leaving my body as soon as I have the day off even though I was looking forward to it all week
a stump and their little friend

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Tell me a soft memory
we would find out later i had burned off my entire cornea - about 65% of my eye. my doctor told me it is the organ with the highest concentration of nerve endings - i was in an amount of pain that can't be spoken.
and i was blind. for the first time in my life, i was totally blind. i kept thinking about reading, about writing. weirdly, just once, about driving. we had no idea if i would ever see again. just like that - my entire life was different.
it is a strange place to reference for a soft memory, to begin here.
my siblings were taking excellent care of me, but there was a moment in the hospital where, just through bad luck and timing - both of them had to step away for a moment. i was crying at that point; not emotionally. for 3 days after this i would still be crying, my tears, like a mermaid's, a frothy pink with blood.
my brother worried about leaving me. he had another, just-as-bad emergency.
"i got her," someone said. "don't worry."
a soft hand held mine, and then she started talking.
her name was jess. she has a wife named clyde. they live a few blocks up the street. clyde fell down, but the x-rays seem to be coming back better than expected. jess says she's got long dark hair and "more wrinkles than an elephant". jess describes every chair in the room and every person. she talks about her two kids and her cats and her favorite memories from college.
a doctor came. i had to switch to a different waiting room. i tried to stand up to follow the voice - i found jess's hand, following me. she didn't let go. she kept talking the whole way: lamp to your left, just a few more steps, okay to your right is the ugliest painting, good, now a little more walking straight, you got it baby
in the new silence of the next room she sat me down and called my brother for me, telling him where we'd gone to. and she stayed there for a bit, just chatting, her voice echoing in the eerie quiet. gently describing the room to me. and then someone was rude. from the sound of the voice, a kid, i think.
"why is she crying?"
"she just lost her vision," jess said. "she can't see."
"oh." said the kid. "that's scary."
the kid tells me he is here because he has peas stuck up his nose. that makes me laugh, his mom (?) groans. she tells me about the kid (he's 6, he likes paw patrol and eating cheese), about herself, about moving from cali.
jess says she's sorry, but she has to leave now, she's gotta go check on her wife.
"don't worry," says the mom. "i got her." and then i felt her hand press into mine.
for hours like that: i am taken care of by strangers. each person just talking with whatever comes to their head - not for any reward or celebrity or real reason, i guess. just because i am scared and alone and in the hospital and blinded and need to be distracted. not everyone even got told the story - they would just pick up in the silence with - oh by the way the television is playing HGTV - do you like that kind of a thing? yeah, me too, but could never quite get into those open-floor plans, i'll tell you -
by the time my brother is able to come back, the room is buzzing. we talk to each other like old friends, laughing, cracking jokes about if you don't like hospital food wait until you get on an airplane and can't believe i'm up past two in the morning what a party animal i'm becoming. i am holding the hands of someone named drew, who likes my crow tattoo and making crochet snails.
there are many dark moments full of pain in this world. this - in the low of absolute-dark, absolute-pain: people find a way to paint in it anyway. the color splash of their voices: this triumphant, radiating kindness of - let's be here together, let me help you, let's keep going.
i never saw their faces. i can't remember many of their names. but i think about them often, and the way we all took a deep breath - and did something gentle amongst the pain.
Most of us could probably stand to benefit from reading this. I did. It’s really lovely.
Some people see Jesus in toast, I just see Texas in lumber…