"I could start fires with what I feel for you."
So, in the middle of everything today, we ran across a hellaciously distressed momma mallard and a bunch of her baby ducks that had fallen down a sewer grate. Another guy was already trying to fish them out, so my friend and I called animal control before we tried to fish the rest of them out. When Animal Control got there, we had all of them out and the mother duck quacking very happily. I was surprised - none of us got snapped at or hurt. I was even holding onto a bag at one point that had all of them in it and she just watched me.
I love how the duck is perched on the guy’s butt
“HOOMANS, PLEASE HALP, HOOMANS!”
You make a nice seat. Get mah babbies, now.
I do not know how to tell you
what I am feeling.
You ask, and
my tongue strangles itself.
It chokes itself silent.
Under my heart,
there is a wellspring
of things I wish I could
tell you, and my tongue
is the cork stoppering
them up. It is the sentinel
warden at the gate, letting
none of the prisoners through.
I wish I could drive a spile
under my ribs
and let it all pour out for you.
Twenty year old Lucille Ball in 1931.
I cured myself of shyness when it finally occurred to me that people didn’t think about me half as much as I gave them credit for. The truth was, nobody gave a damn. Like most teenagers, I was far too self-centered. When I stopped being prisoner to what I worried was others’ opinions of me, I became more confident and free.
"We are the generation of nostalgia. We grew up in the age of transition. From hand-written letters to electronic mails. From film to digital. We were fascinated by new things, neglecting the way we spend our afternoons. Cupcakes and tea. Play-Doh and Polly Pockets. Young and naive. Technology completely changed the way we waited and we grew up too fast. The simple things in life seems more meaningful now. We grew up in the age of transition and have become the generation of nostalgia."