I Give Running On A Trail At 5:30 With Absolutely No Light 0 Out Of 5 Stars, Would Not Recommend

If you were coming in the fall

-- Emily Dickinson

You must realize there are consequences for your attractions

I saw The Lumineers the other day (my favorite band), and I can tell you that post-concert depression is real

Failure is not an option desktop wallpaper

Images taken from Visions of the Future

There's a place

For everything soft,

Its in your gaze

The way you focus on everything

Leaves me amazed,

As you make harshness go away

Even if the voices around are loud

And the actions rash,

They filter through your lens

As blunted moments

Never making you flinch

For a second,

You're like an open door

Radiating light that touches the skin

As tenderly as it can,

Revealing so many places and ideas

That are picturesque

As if divinely touched and felt.

I was thinking about how poetry is all about the human experience, and that led to wondering about experiences that most people don't get to have. This all led me to wondering whether there were any poems written by astronauts, and I found this one, which I thought I'd share.

Last Day in Space

Tomorrow we light our rocket,           we burn our engines and likewise,                    burn a hole in the sky,                              And thus fall to Earth. How does one spend your last day in space?           Looking at Earth,                    a blue jewel surrounded by inky blackness,                              Pure Occipital Ecstasy. Unconstrained by your girth,           you fly with vestigial wings. The atmosphere on edge,           iridescent blue with no earthly parallel,                    Electrifying Diaphanous Beauty. Guarded by Sirens of Space,           singing saccharine songs,                    beckoning you to crash on the atmos-reef which tears you limb from limb                    and scorching what remains                             into cosmic croutons that sprinkle onto                                        the garden salad of Earth. One last feast out the window,           A looking glass of Wonderland. Offering both a portal to see your world,                    and a translucent reflection to see yourself. Contemplation;           what is your place in this world below,                    how do you change it,                              how does it change you. We are wedded to this planet,           until mass extinction we do part.                    Perhaps one planet is not enough. You study your charts,           we prepare our spaceship,                    and our minds. We make ready our descent,           into these seemingly gentle arms. The eager anticipation of hugging your wife,           your boys with grins followed by pouting faces,                    both excited to see you but not understanding why you left. Oh how does one spend your last day in Space.           What would you do?

-- Donald R. Pettit

(A NASA astronaut who has been on three space flights, with 370 days in space. I found this poem on the NASA website.)

I heard if you make a post about blackout poetry someone will make blackout poetry of it.

come on little blackout poetry vampires come inside I invite you in

make some blackout poetry I want to see what you come up with

I’m ready for really good shit and that means hilarious ones

good shit is also just blackout poetry in general

chefs kiss

I brought you cookies, but my ulterior motive is that now I get to see you smile

Does anyone else get this really strong urge to hug their best friend? Like, not just, "Oh, I'd like to hug my friend now." It's, "I NEED TO HUG MY MOST FAVORITE HUMAN BEING IN THE UNIVERSE SO TIGHTLY RIGHT NOW OR I THINK I MIGHT DIE" Cause I feel like that all the time.

I wish I new more people who were nerds like me. I want someone to rant to me about their obsession with some sub-field of science. I want to rant to them about my obsession with space and physics and gravity and black holes. We can learn stuff and have fun at the same time. Is that too much to ask?