Related Recs

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the thin people / sylvia plath

ok last one: They are always with us, the thin people Meager of dimension as the gray people On a movie-screen.  They Are unreal, we say: It was only in a movie, it was only In a war making evil headlines when we Were small that they famished and Grew so lean and would not round Out their stalky limbs again though peace Plumped the bellies of the mice Under the meanest table. It was during the long hunger-battle They found their talent to persevere In thinness, to come, later, Into our bad dreams, their menace Not guns, not abuses, But a thin silence. Wrapped in flea-ridded donkey skins, Empty of complaint, forever Drinking vinegar from tin cups: they wore The insufferable nimbus of the lot-drawn Scapegoat.  But so thin, So weedy a race could not remain in dreams, Could not remain outlandish victims In the contracted country of the head Any more than the old woman in her mud hut could Keep from cutting fat meat Out of the side of the generous moon when it Set foot nightly in her yard Until her knife had pared The moon to a rind of little light. Now the thin people do not obliterate Themselves as the dawn Grayness blues, reddens, and the outline Of the world comes clear and fills with color. They persist in the sunlit room: the wallpaper Frieze of cabbage-roses and cornflowers pales Under their thin-lipped smiles, Their withering kingship. How they prop each other up! We own no wilderness rich and deep enough For stronghold against their stiff Battalions.  See, how the tree boles flatten And lose their good browns If the thin people simply stand in the forest, Making the world go thin as a wasp's nest And grayer; not even moving their bones.

@sloane_shark

Jul 1, 2024

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blue iris by mary oliver

now that i’m free to be myself, who am i? can’t fly, can’t run, and see how slowly i walk. well, i think, i can read books. “what’s that you’re doing?” the green-headed fly shouts as it buzzes past. i close the book. well, i can write down words, like these, softly. “what’s that you’re doing?” whispers the wind, pausing in a heap just outside the window. give me a little time, i say back to its staring, silver face. it doesn’t happen all of a sudden, you know. “doesn’t it?” says the wind, and breaks open, releasing distillation of blue iris. and my heart panics not to be, as i long to be, the empty, waiting, pure, speechless receptacle.

@annaispunk

Jul 1, 2024

📝

ruminating

Something like: I’ll die if I never learn how many girls your mother knew about after the first date, and am I still the only gringa in her mind, and did it feel like something out of another life for you too, or was that just me, and do you ever think about the last bench we sat on, do you think anything about anything at all, and are you even still in this country, and how could Raisinets possibly be someone's favorite candy, and how do I make the good dreams stop, and are you happy, or were you ever, or would I have made you if you just let me, and how do I fill in the blanks for myself, how can I give up caring so deeply, and why should i, for that matter, when these are the only things I care so deeply about, and if I write well enough, would it make you regret it, and if yes, how could I get you to read the words, and how many were there, and what was the moment, and do all the questions cling to you too, or did even one, even just for a minute, and is it wasted time waiting, would I have had you if I had the means, or smarter parents, or one less percentage of body fat, or if I had waited, if I had just waited, and has anyone since made you finish faster, and did they do what you wanted because it’s what they wanted too, or only because you asked, and will I ever listen to Ravel without wanting to cry, or read the word purpose without wondering if you ever managed to figure it out, or look at a mollusk again without thinking of you as a child, small enough to hold, in miniature trousers and wire-rimmed glasses — the only version of you I can ever imagine — lying sunlit on a lily pad inside a castle made of glass, and one day, one day will I learn to stop asking questions that no one, no one who will ever read them, could possibly understand? And how would it feel to have all the answers? I swear I’ll die if I never know ... Anyways y'all should try it.

@caseyy

Mar 24, 2024

Top Recs from @statistical_amethyst_dinosaur

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take your meds

i hate when people keep on whining that they are sick just to get attention and sympathy. i mean take a fucking medicine and stop crying.

@statistical_amethyst_dinosaur

Feb 12, 2025

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falling in love w life, again

i was swinging bsck & forth, listening to Billie Eilish’s WILDFLOWER (isolated vocals) and it was like I left my body—like time just slowed down, and everything made perfect sense for a while. It felt like I was living a scene from one of those coming-of-age movies, where everything suddenly makes sense.

@statistical_amethyst_dinosaur

Mar 11, 2025

⭐

Brother

make me feel so alive whenever i listen to this song. Kodaline never disappoints.

@statistical_amethyst_dinosaur

Jan 17, 2025