Diana Reposing by Paul-Jacques-Aime Baudry (1859)
by Robert Frost
I found a dimpled spider, fat and white, On a white heal-all, holding up a moth Like a white piece of rigid satin cloth -- Assorted characters of death and blight Mixed ready to begin the morning right, Like the ingredients of a witches' broth -- A snow-drop spider, a flower like a froth, And dead wings carried like a paper kite.
What had that flower to do with being white, The wayside blue and innocent heal-all? What brought the kindred spider to that height, Then steered the white moth thither in the night? What but design of darkness to appall? -- If design govern in a thing so small.
The Pittsburgh Press, Pennsylvania, January 14, 1935
do you miss me like i miss you?
do you feel the same heartbreaking pain as i do?
or is it only me who feels this way?
Just because I worked there does not mean I am not sick
I should be institutionalized, but I know all of their tricks
(I know I’m slipping further into mental illness to an alarming degree but I’m too traumatized from working in a psychiatric hospital to seek more intensive help than my weekly therapy and nightly Lexapro. I saw how my patients were treated and I quit because of it. Becoming one of them is a terrifying prospect)
Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath
One of the best shot of Total Solar Eclipse from 08-04-2024.
Via @nasa-official
Kait | XXIV | PiscesThis is my personal commonplace book
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