in regards to fermi’s paradox, by me.
i’ve never written a poem so fast, but once i started i couldn’t stop. it has everything to do with, well… everything.
the fermi paradox is about the existence of extraterrestrial life, and why we haven’t found it yet. the five hypotheses mentioned are just a drop in the bucket of everything we’ve come up with. i’ve always loved that, and i love what they say about humanity as a whole— the good, the bad, the ugly. it teaches us a lot about us.
this poem is tough. it comes from the gut more than the heart, but the love is still there. in these unstable and uncertain times, i hope you all know it’s with you, too.
maybe i’ll start posting my poetry here. Just Maybe,
i think you should be able to emoji react to MyChart lab results
Castiel's life is finally falling into place. Having just started his master's degree at Stanford, he's ready to wipe the slate of his past clean in search of new beginnings. Still, he can't help but feel like he's missing something; some hole in his heart no god can fill. Enter Dean Winchester.
happy 4 year anniversary of homophobia personified <3 did i intend to post the second chapter on the day destiel went canon? no. is it infinitely funny that i did? absolutely xoxo
make sure you read the chapter notes!!
Black Whale, 12.5x12"
I tried quilting for the first time! It was super fun and I learned a lot. It's nowhere near perfect but I'm really proud of it!
Originally submitted for a mini event in @greedislandchallenge <3
Fyi this post is about @angel-fruitcake (Happy Birthday bestie ily and our enrichment time)
uuuuugghhhhh this new chapter of tgs is taking so looooong
🎬 Amélie 2001, dir. Jean-Pierre Jeunet
‘something’s wrong’, a disability with no name.
i’ve spent almost two years trying to figure out the mystery diagnoses that have been ruining my life. every test, imaging and lab under the sun has come back normal, even when i know it’s not. we have ideas, but nothing concrete. i’ve lost almost 60 pounds without meaning to. everything hurts. and all of this is… exhausting. i doubt what i feel because i have nothing to call it, and i doubt its importance because it could always be worse. and i should be grateful that technically, nothing is wrong, but something IS wrong, and i don’t know what to do with that, either.
i’m not sure how this piece ended up the way it did; maybe my brain needed to make sense of everything in a way that makes no sense. sometimes the body is a broken doll is a mess is a horrible thing.
No time to explain, just get in