C.G. Jung, from The Red Book: Liber Novus
One Nice Bug Per Day
Cosmic Funnies

oozey mess
Not today Justin
YOU ARE THE REASON
I'd rather be in outer space šø
KIROKAZE
$LAYYYTER
Mike Driver
Game of Thrones Daily

No title available
Show & Tell
Fai_Ryy

romaā
Noah Kahan
cherry valley forever
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
šŖ¼

titsay
Aqua Utopiaļ½ęµ·ć®åŗć§čØę¶ćē“”ć

seen from Nepal
seen from Germany
seen from United States
seen from Bangladesh
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Germany

seen from India
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from Australia

seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
@spilledbot
C.G. Jung, from The Red Book: Liber Novus
Hélène Cixous, from The Book of Promethea
Text ID: I exist, I am, don't come near, I have teeth, I have claws.
Untitled by Joy Harjo
ā To the Desert, Benjamin Alire SĆ”enzĀ
Joy Sullivan, from āSoupā,Ā Instructions for Traveling West
Turning by Victoria Chang
When a physicist falls in love :)
Richard Feynman's love letter to his deceased wife, 1946.
Yi Lei, tr. by Tracy K. Smith, from My Name Will Grow Wild Like a Tree: Selected Poems; āI donāt want to be restored to reasonā
[ID: poem text reading,
"Buried miles deep, and for what? I shrink even from myself. I wish To get out from under the sky,"
/end ID]
"Eurydice's Lament" by Sean Glatch, published in Passionfruit Review
James Baldwin.
i love you, it looks like rain, June Gehringer
Sharon Olds, āLate Poem to My Fatherā
the tragedy of distance is simple I want to sit on the couch with you and do nothing sometimes
fatima aamer bilal, excerpt from moony moonless skyās āi am an observer, but not by choice.ā
[text id: my fist has always been clenched around the handle of an invisible suitcase. / i am always ready to leave. / there is not a single room in this world where i belong.]
i like your name, tathev simonyan
Letters to Felice, Franz Kafka (translated by James Stern and Elisabeth Duckworth)
I picture it soft and I ache!