Related Recs

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someday i’ll love ocean vuong

After Frank O’Hara / After Roger Reeves Ocean, don’t be afraid.  The end of the road is so far ahead  it is already behind us.  Don’t worry. Your father is only your father  until one of you forgets. Like how the spine  won’t remember its wings  no matter how many times our knees  kiss the pavement. Ocean,  are you listening? The most beautiful part  of your body is wherever  your mother’s shadow falls.  Here’s the house with childhood  whittled down to a single red tripwire.  Don’t worry. Just call it horizon & you’ll never reach it.  Here’s today. Jump. I promise it’s not  a lifeboat. Here’s the man  whose arms are wide enough to gather  your leaving. & here the moment,  just after the lights go out, when you can still see  the faint torch between his legs.  How you use it again & again  to find your own hands.  You asked for a second chance  & are given a mouth to empty into.  Don’t be afraid, the gunfire  is only the sound of people  trying to live a little longer. Ocean. Ocean,  get up. The most beautiful part of your body  is where it’s headed. & remember,  loneliness is still time spent  with the world. Here’s  the room with everyone in it.  Your dead friends passing  through you like wind  through a wind chime. Here’s a desk  with the gimp leg & a brick  to make it last. Yes, here’s a room  so warm & blood-close,  I swear, you will wake—  & mistake these walls  for skin.

@capyboppy

May 7, 2024

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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

2d ago

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<3

you know, all i like to write about is love.  writing is easier when it’s about your own personal experiences of grief, of pain but love is the beautiful dove of the two  released at a funeral, released at a wedding. , because the definition is different for everybody. — the trees rustle again tonight, and the wind gently taps on the windowpane, begging again to be let in and my thoughts race farther and faster in the night than a pure-bred, hot-blooded racehorse, bucking wild for the first time my mind buzzes, stricken like a gong, reverberating in the quietness of tonight as i drag myself closer to you, you reach out for me, an unspoken, gentle and devout prayer, asking for me in the unspeakable words conveyed in a whisper through actions – i promised you a fantastical world of your own, where you are safe, through my own creation. i have created for you in the heart of my own somewhere for me to love you,  fully and infinitely with all of myself. if this is not where you are safe, then there is nothing else. –  word by word and sentence by sentence i create dreams i would never tell anybody not even under the skies of a cloudless night. when i sleep, i tuck my hopes and sadness under my pillow and hope a fairy will kidnap it and place in that spot something i should need more. but night after night, my dreams just macerate in the container of my heart. soon, i will drink them like an elixir of truth and what i am afraid of will come

@neiternal

2d ago

Top Recs from @mouse

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STAINED GLASS HUNTING

I am by no means traditionally religious, but I fully understand how being in the presence of beautiful stained glass can feel like being with god. ALWAYS stop off at a church on the way if you think it might have good stained glass. The bluebells in the bottom right corner of this made me loose my breath for a moment.

@mouse

Apr 24, 2025

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PICNIC WITH YOUR FRIENDS

No better high than this

@mouse

Apr 14, 2025

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Pi.fyi friends

I used to be envious of people who had “MySpace friends” or “tumblr friends”. Now I have PI.FYI friends. Thank you capyboppy for your lovely letter and this illustration of a capybara and a mouse with fruit on our heads, it made me weirdly emotional ❤️

@mouse

Jun 11, 2024