I want to watch a good film.
Not one where afterwards you think, “yeah it was good.”
One that afterwards you think, “how did I live my life for so long without seeing this film?”
On abandon, uncalled for but called forth.The hydrangeaOf her crushed each year a little more into the attar of herself.Pallid. Injured, wildly capable.A throat to come home to, tupelo.Lemurs in parlors, inconsolable.Parlors of burgundy and sleigh. Unseverable fear.Wistful, woke most every afternoonIn the green rooms of the Abandonarium.Beautiful cage, asylum in.Reckless urges to climb celestial trellises that may or may notHave been there.So few wild raspberries, they were countable,Triaged out by hand.Ten-thousand-count Egyptian cotton sheets. Intimacy with others,Sateen. Extreme hyacinth as evidence.Her single subject the idea that every single thing she lovesWill (perhaps tomorrow) die.High editorial illusion of “Control.” Early childhood: measles,Scarlet fevers;Cleopatra for most masquerades, gold sandals, broken home.Convinced Gould’s late last recording of the Goldberg VariationsWas put down just for her. Unusual coalition of early deaths.Early middle deaths as well. Believed, despite all evidence,In afterlife, looked hopelessly for corroborating evidence of such.Wisteria, extreme.There was always the murmur, you remember, about going home.
Gagarin reaches space
On April 12, 1961, cosmonaut Yuri Gagarin flew into orbit with the Vostok 1 and became the first man in space. The Soviets had once again beaten the Americans by mere weeks. Yet Gagarin’s flight, a driving impetus behind President John F. Kennedy’s May announcement that American astronauts would reach the moon by the end of the decade, was not as flawless as the Soviets claimed. Nearing the end of its orbit, Gagarin’s craft began spinning out of control. During the ensuing 10-minute panic, his commander, who was on the ground, scribbled in his notes phrases like “sudden impact,” “emergency situation,” and “Malfunction!!!” Gagarin himself would later confirm the near-accident, which remained hidden to the world for decades.
To many, the space race ended when Neil Armstrong and Edwin “Buzz” Aldrin set foot on the moon. This time, the Soviets were far behind. While the world marveled at the United States’ Saturn 5 “moon rocket,” which sent the astronauts’ Apollo 11 craft into space, the Soviets had secretly been working on their own version, the N-1. Although the N-1 failed to launch, the rocket engineer who led the program, Vasily Mishin, kept private diaries listing items and operations needed for a manned lunar landing. These included specialized tools, maps, and spacesuits. The Soviets had even built a prototype moon suit, called the Krechet (“Golden Falcon”).
Tried something new today, thought I’d share!
2 vegetarian vegetable bouillon cubes (4 cups water)
1 pack of onion soup mix
15 ounce can of mixed vegetables (carrots, celery, potatoes, corn, peas, green beans)
1 pound button mushrooms
1 tablespoon of chopped garlic
8.5 ounces jasmine rice (uncle ben’s minute rice works perfectly)
Crispy onions (garlic pepper)
1. In medium pot, dissolve 2 bouillon cubes in 4 cups water, add onion soup mix and garlic.
2. Microwave minute rice for one minute. Add to pot.
3. Add vegetables and simmer until al dente.
4. Serve with crispy onions sprinkled on top.
Here’s a start of the garden! I have some more room in my second garden for more vegetables but I’m unsure what to plant.
So far we have cabbage, tomatoes, basil, green peppers, and chives.
A relationship that was idolized in high school has diminished
it’s strange but I have a weird feeling in my chest
It is the last reminder that high school was real
and those experiences were real
and the feelings we had were real
and the friends I had were real
and the love they shared was real
We assembled the parts without the instructions and we wondered why it never worked right.
Trust your heart,
trust your heart,
trust your heart - but honey, you need more than muscle to get you through this.
I read somewhere that conversations usually last about 7-8 minutes until a silence embeds itself in the script.
You collect your thoughts and I’ll collect mine. We can write the next script together until the 7 minutes are over. Then we’ll repeat the process all over again until we fall asleep.
I put together a floral arrangement for my grandmother. He told me that I should go into business.
If only I could be everything I ever wanted to be.
An astronaut, a florist, a marine biologist, a writer, a dreamer, an artist, a barista, a traveler of both time and space.
The hardest thing about adult life is being forced to choose.