Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night

You cannot make everyone think and feel as deeply as you do. This is your tragedy … because you understand them, and they do not understand you.

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?

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.)

If you were coming in the fall

-- Emily Dickinson

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

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.

this... this hit me

this whole movie hit me, and it's not even the first time I've watched it

"You have gained a new source of enjoyment, and it is well to have as many holds upon happiness as possible."

-- Jane Austen (Northanger Abbey)

The feminine urge to say “have you no compassion for my poor nerves” every time something goes wrong with my life

I just finished reading The Dictionary of Lost Words by Pip Williams, and

OH.

My.

GOD.

It was literally the most amazing book!! And possibly my new favorite?? It combined some of my favorite things, like words, language, feminism, historical fiction, and a beautiful story. The writing was different from a lot of what I've typically read before, and it almost felt like a classic book. It was about the life of a girl named Esme who grew up observing and then helping the creation of the Oxford English Dictionary. She starts collecting 'lost' words that aren't included, and that are typically used by and about women. It is kind of depressing at times, but I love it all the same. If you like words, historical fiction, and feminism, I highly recommend this book. Like, go read it right now. I love it so much!!