What you will see if you go to Chongqing in Southwestern China

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@fuyunozomi
What you will see if you go to Chongqing in Southwestern China
This is the only tiktok where the automated voice actually adds to the cinematic experience
freedom
This is absolutely what a cats internal monologue is like <3
Actually Ive decided to be angry now
HOW’S THAT HOUSE THAT RAISED YOU? - Lev St. Valentine
[ID: the poem "HOW'S THAT HOUSE THAT RAISED YOU?"
There's a method of growing rhubarb called "forcing" where it's raised in total darkness and tended to in brief intervals of candlelight. The plant thrives only because it's looking for an absnet sun, and extends to fast you can hear the growing pains. Forcing can weaken the crop but if done correctly can yield a sweeter, more desirable result. Not everything needs to be an allegory. All the same, I am aware that there are things that have happened in my formative years that I have no words to describe and that only God's eyes have seen.]
still living with my parents as an adult is just like. i'm grateful to not have to pay for groceries. i have to get out of here. i'm grateful to have a roof over my head and not have to pay rent. i have to get out of here. i'm grateful to not have to worry about sending out endless job applications that all lead to nowhere. i have to get out of here. i'm grateful i'm grateful i'm so fucking grateful. i have to get out of here
OP: This is the first time I've seen the Yellow River's sediment discharge with my own eyes.
There's a Chinese meme that the Yellow River doesn't need rituals to present sacrifices because if it's hungry it'll come onto the shore and eat the sacrifices itself.
#some netizens also say chinese people like unification because only a powerful unified dynasty can survive the yellow river and sometimes #also the chang jiang when they decide to flood and change directions and kill and displace millions #also only large dynasties have the resources to do hydroengineering to try and control the yellow river #yellow river be like: if you don't hydroengineer you die #but if you do you might also die heehee #“we call these our mother rivers not because they are gentle but because we are too scared” tags on above post
(source: Wikipedia)
@mikkeneko
what in the
oh my god??
People talk about how the Great Lakes are deadly because they are uncaring, but the Yellow River is literally out to get everyone.
adult grief by louise glück
louise glück!!!!
[text id:
Snowdrops
Do you know what I was, how I lived? You know what despair is; then winter should have meaning for you.
I did not expect to survive, earth suppressing me. I didn't expect to waken again, to feel in damp earth my body able to respond again, remembering after so long how to open again in the cold light of earliest spring--
afraid, yes, but among you again crying yes risk joy
in the raw wind of the new world.]
On Seatbelts and Sunsets Hanif Abdurraqib
Carrie Fountain, from Burn Lake; “Experience”
A group of seven dogs in China has won the hearts of netizens for their loyalty and teamwork after banding together to escape a dog thief an
OH MY GOD?????😭🥹
#better than any disney movies
Edit: they made sure their injured friend was okay too omg
The Corgi’s name is apparently “Big Fat” AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
(excerpted from Leila Chatti's poem: "Tea", published in Missouri Review)
—Olivia Gatwood, “We All Got Burnt that Summer” from Life of the Party
Franz Kafka, from a letter to Felice Bauer written in 1913, featured in Letters To Felice
[Text ID: January 19, 1913
I am tied to you not by love alone, love would not be much, love begins, love comes, passes, and comes again; but this need by which I am utterly chained to your being, this remains. /end ID]
i.
i visited the city you grew up in. it made me homesick for a place i never even lived. my heart began its slow pull toward your front door; my body stretched in two directions, thin and fragile, later found mangled and unrecognizable.
can i call it wanderlust if i'm only searching for you?
no, i guess not. you would call it yearning.
ii.
i went to the restaurant down the street. we'd been there once. i don't remember much, just that you were there. that was enough. this time, the person sitting across from me wasn't you.
the food was forgettable —
you were not.
iii.
i didn't trust the world with you. it didn't matter what happened to me, but if you died, i would never forgive myself. i couldn't let anyone steal your future. and there you are, still in one piece —
maybe not because of me, but i like to think so.
even now, i still don't trust the world to protect you.
iv.
you told me, "in another life, we grew old together."
those words will haunt me for the rest of my life. is there anyone who has carried the weight of that burden for so long? yes, your parting words were meant to be innocuous, but it doesn't matter. there was nothing i could do but drown it out —
if, instead, you said: "it wasn't meant to be," i would've believed you.
v.
here i am, close enough to reach you, but too far to even try —
i keep clinging to my identity as a poet. it's the last thread that still ties me to you. the moment i met you, you were in everything i wrote. i knew my words would become yours. they belonged to you; they might always.
you were the girl that made sense of everything i've ever written.
how am i supposed to find someone else like that?
‘ID: excerpt from ‘Mayakovsky” a poem by Frank O’Hara
“Now I am quietly waiting for the catastrophe of my personality to seem beautiful again,”]