thought of this immediately and was delighted to discover it’s the same op
fucked up how no matter how much literature you read there’s always literature that you haven’t read. and in fact there’s literature that you CANT read because it’s “only published in a language you don’t read” or “it is translated but every translation is straight up bullshit” or “it’s no longer extant” or something stupid like that and so it’s always going to be literature you’ve never read. you can’t read it all. sick n twisted
"imagine showing insert blank to a medieval peasant they'd die lol" personally i think if i saw the medieval peasant's night sky i'd start crying and never stop
Odysseus’ Decision
by Louise Glück
The great man turns his back on the island.
Now he will not die in paradise
nor hear again
the lutes of paradise among the olive trees,
by the clear pools under the cypresses. Time
begins now, in which he hears again
that pulse which is the narrative
sea, at dawn when its pull is strongest.
What has brought us here
will lead us away; our ship
sways in the tinted harbor water.
Now the spell is ended.
Give him back his life,
sea that can only move forward.
richard siken
[ID:
KITCHEN WINDOW
Several men were not my father. Some I avoided, some I wanted to impress. In high school, I tried to grow up at a friend’s house. We studied the periodic table and listened to records. Sometimes they bought pizza or fried chicken and everyone was encouraged to eat at the table together. His stepfather always watched me closely. He saw the wariness one learns from being neglected — eating too fast, being overly grateful, always knowing who was in the house: their motivations, moods, and locations. With his stepson he was attentive. With me, on the occasions when our paths crossed privately, he spoke with the gentle unavailability one reserves for creatures that are wounded and backed into a corner. I radiated an inappropriate heat that I did my best to hide. Graciously, he ignored it. He was generous, vain, tall and almost handsome, beamed a certain nonchalance and didn’t slouch in chairs. It registered. On Christmas morning, early, when I knocked on the glass of the kitchen window, he looked up and shook his head, mouthed Not today. I appreciated the clarity. It was his family, not mine.
/end ID]
God he's the funniest person alive actually.
new jerma clip of all time just dropped
*voice of someone craving even the tiniest sliver of control* i could make a spreadsheet,
Phantom of the Paradise Out of Touch THURSDAY
OKAYYY I DID IT! vincent price fancam feat. sisters of mercy lets go!
flashing cw
miss major passed on. what a light we’ve lost. what a responsibility she’s trusted us with. what a generation she’s closed out with her leaving. what an honor we were all alive as she was. what a life she lived. may we keep on. may we keep on
Lake Mungo dir. Joel Anderson (2008) / The Haunting of Hill House, Shirley Jackson (1959)