Related Recs

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Keep Forgiving

keep forgiving. when the disconnect seems to beat the poetry out of you, and the joy isn’t quite there but you can’t quite remember where or why it went, and the lenses protecting your vision continue to cloud and spread reflecting eyes as opaque as the dimly lit mirror they’re doubling up on just for the hell of it – well it was never just for the hell of it, but who really believes that in the midst of the dispersion, or setting a broken bone? the bloodletting felt like murder, but you had to get the poison out of me. - Levi the poet

@Doll

Feb 22, 2025

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Tourniquets - songs for snow plow drivers

just found this track on spotify and i think it's just beautiful, speaks about extending yourself to someone and letting fear just be, not letting it control you but not suppressing it either. it really speaks to my life right now, trying to be genuine for someone without overwhelming myself. -- Your fingers laced in mine like five tourniquets, stopping empty words that flow from my empty nervous lips, your fingers like tourniquets. I'm enjoying the silence like this, i can hear the sound of your lips as you read me Robert Frost. And silence cross fades into a bliss that has stuck with me this week, the sound of Frost on your Lips, "Not Even The Rain" you say as you read me E.E. Cummings. I read Kevin Fitzpatrick yesterday, he talked about reading poems to his partner Tina, she was moving to a farm in Northern Minnesota. A tourniquet is that look that you give when you're right where you're supposed to be, and i know there's so many places to be. And i've never met someone who is at so many at once, even sometimes gracefully, even sometimes gracefully. Gracefully, you tell me about New York, gonna see Bruce Springsteen on broadway, i kiss you in some Portland driveway, you say sorry for being so many places at once, you wanna feel grounded with me, I say i don't wanna be your rock i want to be your sea legs If you move on will you at least give me a five star yelp review so i can be friends with your friends, my collar for your tears, my sleeve for your snot, a bout of crying as you tell me about fear of loss and giving which leads to loss which leads to fear making it hard to give your fingers laced in mine like five tourniquets, stopping words that we'd forget, i won't forget that look that you give, tie it above the wounds, i've had a rough month or two, you're like my sea legs. making out in some Portland Strangers driveway, gettin dizzy as we stumble the long way to my house, the feeling of motion as we lay still in my bed and you read me Frost and Cummings and Elliot, the feeling of motion as i lay still and you show me: how to put a moment on a page, i hang some pictures up at my new place you light the sage, your spirits lift the room higher and higher i let some dire feelings of loosing you burn with the sage i put you on pages and pages of moments and moments I got nothing to hide, you tell me about your friend Joseph who see's through peoples lies. Sometimes you hid behind your eyes making it much more potent when i see right through them, and i see right through them I let fear of you moving on burn with the sage, i put silent moments of your tourniquet fingers on the page, and i listen to your breathing and the sounds of kids playing at the school across the street as we lay through the afternoon. My collar for your tears my sleeve for your snot, some happy crying as we leave behind fear of loss, only giving, which led me here, in your arms, without fail, over moments and moments, and pages, and again only moments which lead me here in your

@akutaz

Dec 25, 2024

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~on waiting~

--from my latest substack post-- ordering coffee, again. i’ll grab this one. of course; it’s no problem. oat? soy? neither? okay, no milk, right. it’s a thursday, you don’t put milk in your coffee on thursdays, i remember. you told me that last autumn for the first time. at the shop on the corner of streets running north and south and east and west the location as ambiguous as you were to me. i held onto your words like candlelight, which is to mean, i felt myself grasping at the wick of your thoughts as they released. hold onto it slowly, i did, each tendril of smoke had meaning, for you have never said things that did not matter. i’ve always held the space to gather up all your meaning, to keep attempting to collect the strands of everything that encapsulates you. the long strings of yarn strung together in loose cadence; but i can keep the rhythm, and i can keep the pace, and i can hold the room for all of it, i’ll hold the threads in my palm and i’ll grasp it with certainty. because it is without effort, there is no weight, or burden, or distraught, to be the one to hold that which you carry; it is not beyond my strength to hold all of you. for to love was to bear it all, or at least that’s what i read, but isn’t that how it feels? to be seen, to be understood, is to recognize that any quirk fear inability lack thereof is not a withholding nor weakness nor failing it is the space between us the location in the strings where we meet in the middle the threaded spiderweb of life has bound us this way no, not doomed; no, not ill-fated. for you are the red string connected to my wrist the one that has lead me to you the universal pull to unravel the thread so that i may reach you even though you exist outside of my grasp as i see it now all i ever needed was your hand pressed against mine i want to feel myself expanding and compressing underneath the weight of your eyes soft winding and slow crackling do we fall deeper the string twisting and tying and threading and then loosening unraveling the yarn crocheted and knitted do we find ourself loose ends and damaged strands have we come together to make whole the both of us i’ll order the same coffee every thursday i’ll walk you home from the station i’ll make the pasta that way you like it and i’ll keep writing these letters so that one day you’ll read them i’ll press them with the flowers of your tomorrow scented with the bloom of longing sealed with the certainty of promise the promise that i’ll keep collecting and saving the things you’d like the letters the movies the albums the trinkets the odds the ends the things yet to be discovered and the things you’ll have to show me i’m just a scrapbook of all the things i’ve loved before a capsule of intricacy i’ll keep the light on outside i’ll wait on the porch i’ll keep the fire warm i’ll know when you’re here and you’ll know it’s me for the strings will connect, the yarn unraveled, the lines no longer crossing but joining. and if it’s a thursday, a plain coffee, no milk just so there isn’t any lack of a sign. #poetry #letters #substack

@bills

Dec 5, 2024

1

Top Recs from @nadiyaelyse

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You are only mundane to yourself because you are so familiar— to everyone else you are new

Firstly, I’m so sorry you’re feeling that way— that’s really crummy, and I’m sure that once you feel that way everything feels like confirmation of being unspecial. But in a very very real way, you might be bored with yourself because you know yourself so well— other people don’t know you. You could walk into a bar or a cafe or an event and you would be new to at least one person there. If you feel like you aren’t interesting conversationally, are you a good listener? In a very honest way, the people I’ve found hottest and most intriguing are always good listeners, and people who are quiet and incisive. It’s okay if you don’t talk on and on; a lot of “interesting” people are just filling space with noise. Noise is always briefly exciting or interesting, but that doesn’t mean it has substance or adds value. Trust me on this, I’m a performer and frankly so many nights I’m just making noise. So first piece of advice is, approach yourself as if you were a stranger— look at everything about you like you’ve never ever seen it before, and start to notice what you like. Then build on those things. Like, it’s okay if you hate your clothes, but do you have one jacket/shirt/earring that you love? Wear that so much, and slowly look out for pieces that make you feel like the thing you love— it’s okay if it takes time, the outfits that make me feel dynamic are all cobbled together from stuff I found over years. Then look at other people, what do you find interesting about them? I am a knockoff of every woman I ever thought was cool— my summer camp counselor, my gender studies TA from my first year of college, my mom, and literally everyone else. That’s okay though, mimicking what you like is a way of developing your taste, and you will put yourself together in a way that’s a little different and totally your own. It’s okay if it takes time— sometimes we have seasons where we don’t like ourselves a ton, but they do pass, and who you will be in a year is a brand new person— you haven’t met them yet, and you might love them. Tiny practical advice? Go for walks; it’s good for your body, it releases endorphins, and it gives you a chance to people watch/observe nature. Read something small; it can be a single poem, or an essay, or a children’s book— I love Howl’s Moving Castle and if I’m feeling stuck in a rut I read that, even though it’s a children’s book. If reading isn’t your thing watch a movie or a TV episode, but whatever you consume, watch it and take notes, like you‘re a secret critic— note what you liked, whether it’s costumes or language or the vibe, and what you didn’t, and then you can find more things like it— that’s how you develop your own taste, and it’s a good way to develop language around art and media. All critics and essayists and everyone whose job is to write interestingly about art started with shit they liked in middle school, and built on that to find their own language— you can do that too. Sorry for the hugely long post, but I promise that you are more interesting than you give yourself credit for, and there are people in the world who will see that.

@nadiyaelyse

Feb 19, 2024

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transparency is not the same as intimacy

This was really impactful for me; the analogy is, your life/your heart is a room (or an apartment, a space, etc) and relationships are all about inviting people into that room. Intimacy is letting them into the room and knowing that they might touch stuff, move furniture around, or change the way you’ve laid the room out. Transparency is letting people see the room, but keeping a glass between them and the space— they can see, but not touch. I think relationally we all have impulses toward transparency instead of intimacy, and it’s easy to say “I let you look at my room, that was intimacy,” while maintaining the glass that separates people from the room. Be intimate! Let people pick up the tchotchkes in your heart and move the furniture.

@nadiyaelyse

May 28, 2024

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Let it die

I like to let my phone die— I often don’t charge it overnight, and try not to plug it in during the day. If you’re able to access work/school through only your laptop, let your phone die, or leave it on the plug in another room. I also delete most apps from my phone for periods of weeks, and minimally use social media— if this works for you, it can feel very liberating, and makes me feel much less constantly accessible (which I think is a good thing). Something that helps me is thinking about the flattening of correspondence; before social media, if you wanted to communicate to a friend, it was one-on-one— you might write a letter, or call, or email, but what you were doing was conversational and relational. When we use social media, we flatten a lot of individual relationships into one relationship between us and our “audience.” Instead of sharing a thought or comment intended for one person, and designed for them to reply and continue the correspondence, we put out press releases on our own lives: “this is what I had for breakfast,” “this is a meme about my mental health,” and we become part of a passive audience in our friend’s lives. We end up feeling like we’ve just seen our friends, because we’re “viewing” their lives, but actually apps leave us feeling very isolated and anti-social. Try deleting your most used social media apps, and also schedule a walk/movie night/coffee with a friend. Outside of radical deletion, pick an audio book to listen to, and pair it with a hands on/tactile activity: you could load the dishwasher, or draw, or try embroidery.

@nadiyaelyse

Jul 29, 2024