floating in the blue

rika 19 girl of all time

[iproverb]

― Love Letter (1995)

Hiroko: How are you? I'm very well.

[lupismaris]

No Ordinary Love, Salman Toor. Details. Special Exhibit, Baltimore Museum of Art, 7.30.2022

[weltenwellen]

May Sarton, Journal of a Solitude

[weltenwellen]

James Baldwin, Giovanni’s Room

[podencos]

don’t forget to journal your reflections and set your intentions and let the fog dissipate from the cloud that’s been trailing you for this super blue moon tonight

[lunchboxpoems]

HANIF ABDURRAQIB

[0meadow-deactivated20200602]

[spandexinspace]

I need everyone to know that the ship Götheborg, the world's largest ocean-going wooden sailing ship, answered a distress call the other day.

Imagine waiting for the coast guard or whatever to show up and instead a replica of 18th century merchant ship pulls up and tows you to the coast.

[foxgirlofficial]

pov: you’ve been transported to the 17th century

[uvradical]

#in the article it says that the sailboat sailors were concerned because they could not be towed quickly because of the kind of boat#so they asked Götheborg what type of ship they were and warned that they would not be able to go above a certain speed#and götheborg went ' we are also a sailboat. 50 meters length. no worries :) '#and the poor sailboat sailors were just like ' That's not possible. they have to be messing with us' and then the ship Rolled Up (via bunjywunjy)

[ms-demeanor]

I'm crying. Here's a photo of a sailor from the Götheborg watching over the little sailboat in tow:

From the story:

We repeatedly emphasized that we were aboard a small 8-meter sailboat, but the response was the same each time: "We are a 50-meter three-masted sailboat, and we offer our assistance in towing you to Paimpol." We were perplexed by the size difference between our two boats, as we feared being towed by a boat that was too large and at too fast a speed that could damage our boat. The arrival of the Götheborg on the scene was rapid and surprising, as we did not expect to see a merchant ship from the East India Company of the XVIII century. This moment was very strange, and we wondered if we were dreaming. Where were we? What time period was it? The Götheborg approached very close to us to throw the line and pass a large rope. The mooring went well, and our destinies were linked for very long hours, during which we shared the same radio frequency to communicate with each other. The crew of the Götheborg showed great professionalism and kindness towards us. They adapted their speed to the size of our boat and the weather conditions. We felt accompanied by very professional sailors. Every hour, the officer on duty of the Götheborg called us to ensure everything was going well.[...] This adventure, very real, was an incredible experience for us. We were extremely lucky to cross paths with the Götheborg by chance and especially to meet such a caring crew. Dear commander and crew of the Götheborg, your kindness, and generosity have shown that your ship is much more than just a boat. It embodies the noblest values of the sea, and we are honored to have had the chance to cross your path and benefit from your help.

"Our destinies were linked for very long hours" is just knocking me out.

[rolloroberson]

Edward Hopper- Night Windows, 1928, oil/canvas

[soljos2023]

if only they knew

[marxism-transgenderism]

[fairieicedtea]

"book haul" and it's just me downloading multiple epubs on my phone

[migatito]

[lunchboxpoems]

BAKED GOODS

Flour on the floor makes my sandals slip and I tumble into your arms.

Too hot to bake this morning but blueberries begged me to fold them

into moist muffins. Sticks of rhubarb plotted a whole pie. The windows

are blown open and a thickfruit tang sneaks through the wire screen

and into the home of the scowly lady who lives next door. Yesterday, a man

in the city was rescued from his apartment which was filled with a thousand rats.

Something about being angry because his pet python refused to eat. He let the bloom

of fur rise, rise over the little gnarly blue rug, over the coffee table, the kitchen countertops

and pip through each cabinet, snip at the stumpy bags of sugar,

the cylinders of salt. Our kitchen is a riot of pots, wooden spoons, melted butter.

So be it. Maybe all this baking will quiet the angry voices next door, if only

for a brief whiff. I want our summers

to always be like this—a kitchen wrecked with love, a table overflowing with baked goods warming the already warm air. After all the pots

are stacked, the goodies cooled, and all the counters wiped clean—let us never be rescued from this mess.

AIMEE NEZHUKUMATATHIL

 Nezhukumatathil

[lexie-squirrel]

[yeahiwasintheshit]

[firstfullmoon]

Hanif Abdurraqib, in “Why this poet sees grief as its own kind of spiritual practice”

[thehandymen]

i am not immune to stories in which characters who have endured harsh, empty existences become absolutely transformed by someone’s sincere love for them and learn to live