Related Recs

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I am not ready to die yet, by aracelis Girmay

This poem is so striking and pulls on my heart strings in a violent way I haven’t felt in most other writing, especially the excerpts below I want to live longer. I want to love you longer, say it again, I want to love you longer & sing that song again. & get pummeled by the sea & come up breathing & hot sun & those walks & those kids  & hard laugh, clap your hands. I am not ready to die yet. & when I go or you go, let me see you again somewhere, or you see me. Isn’t that you, old friend, my love? you might say, while swimming in some ocean to the small fish at your ankle. Or, Weren’t you my sister once? I might say to the sad, brown dog who follows me down the street. Or to the small boy or old woman or horse eye or to the tree. I know I knew I know you, too.

@imasherwong

Feb 13, 2025

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wandering poet

a few years back, i met a wandering poet in new orleans. after talking for a bit, he wrote this for me. to this day, it is still one of my most treasured possessions. it’s strange how connected we all are. the human experience is not so singular or unique. and that is kind of comforting.

@minette

Jan 20, 2025

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the ocean

there is something figuratively beautiful about the things we know and don’t know, the sublime and mundane and when you visit the beach, do you ever think about if the animals who live in the embrace of the depths remember the beauty of the ocean? where the salt envelops every single one of us,  accepting us as kin letting her wind tousle our raw, visceral edges  and pepper them with her sea-foamed kisses  which tell me that it’s okay to pretend and okay to tell the ocean all of myself the ocean reaches out to me, hands cloaked in the sharp coolness of water and something else- something i don’t understand as I poke around in a tide pool, like a vendor at a bustling market, observing the wares that the ocean has to offer and i turn around and ask her, do the barnacles see themselves? do anemones understand their own beauty, fragile and ephemeral?  i don’t think they do.  but the ocean doesn’t have any words for me, instead shutting my mouth with a shhhh  as her sandy dress rustles down the shore, laced with white foam and gossamer trails of ripples and wordlessly, tells me to look  and i do.  until the sun hurriedly retreats from the wispy radiance of the moon, enrobed in puffy clouds and it's just the three of us. the moon tugs at the ocean’s hand, dancing to their own secret rhythm,  letting me see them in their love. personally, i think it’s beautiful \\ and i wish i had something like it and the ocean laughs. nothing jeering or ridiculing, simply an acknowledgement that i understand. everything around me falls,  like petals cast off from a chrysanthemum. and then, we were wordless  like the ocean had never spoken in the first place.  i want to descend into the depths of the ocean one day, to be hugged once more and never again. not because i am tired of being alive, but frankly within me exists too much zeal to live. uncontrollable surges of wow i am alive in flesh, blood through my veins, and thoughts in my head become more addictive than any form of fentanyl, cocaine, heroin  and better than any gateway into a better life  or a better existence, transcending normality and the moment it’s just me in my head, without the viscous energy of being alive suddenly drains me like a leaking bucket, decrepit and dry. i want to burn like a torch, setting my world alight into embers, into flames,  into an inferno.  Sunrise:: being alight || with a halo of only thoughts and dreams || and the divinity of something new

@neiternal

1d ago

Top Recs from @jilly

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stop!! look at my frog!!

@jilly

Feb 19, 2025

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accepting that you’re not trendy and cool

tried reading dante alighieri’s inferno. key emphasis on tried. i got bored and realised a story written in poem form is not my typa beat. i tried because it seemed like what all the indie hipsters who are well versed would read, and that i would look cool and niche—but it just cost me $25. i prefer crazy detailed paragraphs rather than a line by line story. anyways

@jilly

Feb 17, 2025

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stop saying “i’m sick”!!

saying “i’m sick” when you’re sick is boring. instead, here are some more funky fresh and cool ways to disclose that your immune system has been highjacked (it’s time to revive these sayings from the dead!): “i am indisposed” “i am taken ill” “i am feeling out of sorts” “i am suffering from a bilious attack” “i have been seized by an ague” “i am afflicted with a malaise” “i have taken to my bed” “the vapours have overcome me” “i have a touch of the influenza” “the rheumatism plagues me” “i am laid low with a fever” “i am afflicted with a troublesome ailment” you’re welcome

@jilly

Feb 18, 2025