Where the hell is that poem by that welsh poet about laika…………
wait wiat i think i have it in a screnshoot wait this is my moment ive been saving screenshots for years i have hundreds of them and they be useful, wether god likes it or not
ok this is not the one but hey look another laika poem:
The honey possum, also called a noolbenger, is the only flightless animal that feeds exclusively on nectar and pollen. As such it’s an important pollinator in the grasslands of southern Australia. Grassland Films
got held up on the way to work today because there was a big snake trying to sun herself on the highway right on the way out of town & the lady in the grey subaru in front of me put her warning lights on & got out to try & shoo her into the grassy sunny verge on the other roadside. & it was afternoon and busy but the logging trucks stopped & waited & the family cars stopped & waited & the long haul truckers stopped & waited for that snake to cross the road. nobody so much as honked. & when the snake was safe the road was backed up in both directions but a fellow in a pickup truck waved at me to go ahead (i was waiting to turn right onto the highway) even though he could have made me wait until the whole long line of cars passed. what i am trying to say is: there is still love in this world. what i am trying to say is: happy pride to me & to that big old bull snake who will live to see another sunrise & to every person on that highway who decided that saving her was worth five minutes of delay
kate o’hare was a socialist + antiwar activist, jailed during WWI for promoting said views—and yeah this incident recorded in her journals is fucking me up
When her 14-year-old son visited, [Kate] O’Hare was upset that warders denied him permission to play his trumpet for her. But they had no control over what happened outside the prison’s walls. “Last night we were locked in our cells waiting for the lights to be turned out when suddenly I heard a sweet but wavering note that I instantly recognized as Dick’s cornet… Nothing ever sounded sweeter than the noble strains of ‘Lead Kindly Light.’ Before the first bar was ended a dead silence reigned … From cell to cell a whisper ran ‘Be still and listen—it is Mrs. O’Hare’s son!’ No artist ever held an audience more breathless … When he played ‘Silver Threads among the Gold’ I could hear the women sobbing.”
one time I housesat for a woman who kept a list of all her email and password combos on the kitchen table, as well as a checklist of all the places she’d hidden her guns
she also furnished the guest room with a large wicker trunk full of personal files including 1.) financial information and bank records 2.) a collection of racist memes from the early 2000’s and 3.) a folder labeled ‘PAIN AND AGONY’ which contained angry correspondence between her and World of Warcraft representatives, accusing the game of causing her then-13 year old son to develop an online gaming addiction
when the power went out i heard an explosion and my boyfriend was like “a transformer probably busted” and i deadass thought he meant Optimus Prime was out there nutting
