cryingtomoveon-blog

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ooh I dig it

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my heart

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At least I’m cute

Spring Fawn by William Dalton on Flickr.

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what the hell this is so pretty

Canadian Rocky Mountains by Andy Best

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I found the poem

There Will come Soft Rains, Sara Teasdale, 1920

There will come soft rains and the smell of the ground, And swallows circling with their shimmering sound;

And frogs in the pools singing at night, And wild plum trees in tremulous white,

Robins will wear their feathery fire Whistling their whims on a low fence-wire;

And not one will know of the war, not one Will care at last when it is done.

Not one would mind, neither bird nor tree If mankind perished utterly;

And Spring herself, when she woke at dawn, Would scarcely know that we were gone.

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I read a really good poem today, and I almost cried in English. Those two events are slightly connected.

The Pelican Nebula, an HII emission region 2000 light years from Earth

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Today’s Discovery 3:10

Crying over girls is so much worse than crying over boys. I’ve cried over a boy exactly once. I realized he was stupid and not worth the salt (of my tears haha); I ended up feeling empowered. I’ve cried over girls probably about five times. It was a re-affirmation of how beautiful and amazing and radiant they are and how they’d never think the same of me; I ended up feeling helpless.