Seeing one of gods most majestic and divine creatures, fight so valiantly against the destruction and rampaging of his home should do untold psychic damage to your psyche. We should be radicalized by this.
Tabshour ('Chalk') the donkey goes viral in Lebanon after braying with joy upon seeing his human best friend for the first time since they were separated by war
'Damn this war that separated us'
#BashirBadr was heartbroken when rioters targeted his Meerut home during the 1986 riots.
He was moved to Bhopal, and in dejection, wrote lines that will outlive him:
Log toot jaate hai ek ghar banane mein, tum taras nahi khaate bastiyaan jalane mein.
We have gigantic creatures in the sea which can sing for hours and have arteries so big you can crawl through them. (whales)
We have birds that fly 50,000 miles every year. From the antarctic to the arctic and back again. (arctic tern)
We have living creatures which never get old and never die naturally. (jellyfish)
We have animals which you can force through a sieve, and they can reassemble themselves. (sponges)
We have an ancient line of animals which once had 30 or more successful species, and has gone extinct down to just one single representative, and that representative has conquered the entire world (us).
We have horrors that look just like rocks and if you step on them your whole world becomes agonizing pain. (toadfish)
We have animals who hide inside other animals, and when you eat that animal, they enter your intestines and live there. (tapeworms)
We have plants which live on other plants and never touch the ground.
There's a fruit tree that grows around another tree, and eventually kills and replaces it. (strangler fig)
We have gliding lizards, marsupials, snakes, frogs, and rodents.
What the heck do you need fairies for?
At the NASA space science center, there's a poster with bees that reads:"The aerodynamic body of a bee is not suited for flight, but it's good that the bee doesn't know this."The law of physics, the aerodynamic principle, states that the wingspan is too small to keep its massive body aloft in flight, but the bee doesn't know—she knows nothing about physics or its logic—and yet she flies anyway. This is what we all can do: fly and triumph at any moment, in the face of any difficulties and under any https://t.co/gh4sXDueuv bees—regardless of the size of your wings, fly and enjoy life.
Late replies do not bother me. Most of life is not urgent. Text me when the kettle has cooled and the day stops shouting your name.
I have learned the shape of waiting that is not personal. The phone sleeps face down. The little dots come and go like fish. I load the dishwasher. I fold a shirt that will wrinkle again in ten minutes. The world does not burn because a bubble did not pop on my screen.
Take your time if we are not in love and you do not owe me money. Walk your dog. Miss your stop and laugh. Close your laptop and remember your own temperature. Answer me tomorrow or next week, with crumbs on your sleeve and a screenshot that makes sense of nothing. We are people with spines and errands. I am not a court. You are not on trial.
There are two places where silence grows teeth. Love. And debt.
If we are in love, delay is a weather report. I listen for thunder in the gap. My chest reads your absence like a map with a torn corner. Text me when you can, and if you cannot, let me know you are alive. A single word will do. Here. Breathing. Later. Lovers live inside each other’s nervous systems. Small pauses are not small there. The body counts.
If you owe me money, time is respect with numbers on it. You do not have to write a poem. You do not have to explain your childhood. Tell me a date. Tell me an amount. Keep it. Or ask for a plan that will not bruise you. Ghosting is expensive. It charges interest in distrust. Pay with words first if you cannot pay with cash.
For everyone else, I vote for mercy. I answer when I can and I forgive when you cannot. At 09:14 I am in a queue with a loaf that still remembers the oven. At 12:31 I am in the sun outside a pharmacy, counting my breaths to eight so the day will let me back in slowly. At 23:06 I am a person with a book and a lamp and a face that does not belong to a screen. Your blue bubble can wait. Mine can too.
Late replies are proof that a life is being lived off camera. A seat on a bus. A spill wiped with the good towel by mistake. A kid calling from the other room. A pan that needs two more minutes. It is not neglect, it is oxygen. We are not notifications. We are weather that changes without asking for applause.
When I finally reply, I want to bring a real minute back with me. Not an apology written to impress. A plain sentence that carries heat from a stove or wind from a street. Sorry, I was making soup. Sorry, I was not sorry to be away. Here I am now. What did I miss. Where does it hurt. Where do we begin again.
If we are not braided by love, if we are not tied by debt, take your time. Take it fully. Give it back clean. I will meet you where the day lets us both breathe.
I have so much love and respect for women who are honest about their own loneliness but also find the good in it like when audrey hepburn said “I have to be alone very often. I’d be quite happy if I spent from Saturday night until Monday morning alone in my apartment. That’s how I refuel” and when charlotte bronte said “I care for myself. The more solitary, the more friendless, the more unsustained I am, the more I will respect myself” and when jenny slate said “I think I’ve come to terms with the fact that there will always be a ribbon of loneliness running through who I am. But that’s why I want to do comedy, and why I want to connect with people. You can use that ribbon to be a part of a finer tapestry, or you can choke yourself out with it! Your choice!” and when mary oliver said “whoever you are, no matter how lonely, the world offers itself to your imagination, calls to you like the wild geese, harsh & exciting - over & over announcing your place in the family of things”