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this one makes me feel physically sick. too many memories from different phases of my life for just one damn song.
Jul 8, 2025
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Apr 16, 2025
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This song KILLS me! I used to listen to it everyday during a really messed up time in my life so itβs crusted with bad memories and will forever make me feel hopeless.
May 11, 2025
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βit's my 2nd day being here on pi.fyi and i really adore the whole concept of just sharing our interests without feeling the need to receive any online validation or perform. the people here are so inclusive and nice
T-T i also like how i don't get the urge to endlessly scroll, as there's no algorithm driving the platform.
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i have recently started reading this poetry book by mary oliver and it is sososo beautiful <3 it makes me appreciate life and nature more. the loveliest thing about poetry books is that you don't need to worry about forgetting where you left off!! you can read a few entries and call it a day, and then just pick it back up again when you feel like it!!
one of the poems i love rn:
On Meditating, Sort Of β Mary Oliver Meditation, so Iβve heard, is best accomplished if you entertain a certain strict posture. Frankly, I prefer just to lounge under a tree. So why should I think I could ever be successful?
Some days I fall asleep, or land in that even better place β half-asleep β where the world, spring, summer, autumn, winter β flies through my mind in its hardy ascent and its uncompromising descent.
So I just lie like that, while distance and time reveal their true attitudes: they never heard of me, and never will, or ever need to.
Of course I wake up finally thinking, how wonderful to be who I am, made out of earth and water, my own thoughts, my own fingerprints β all that glorious, temporary stuff.
one of the poems i love rn:
On Meditating, Sort Of β Mary Oliver Meditation, so Iβve heard, is best accomplished if you entertain a certain strict posture. Frankly, I prefer just to lounge under a tree. So why should I think I could ever be successful?
Some days I fall asleep, or land in that even better place β half-asleep β where the world, spring, summer, autumn, winter β flies through my mind in its hardy ascent and its uncompromising descent.
So I just lie like that, while distance and time reveal their true attitudes: they never heard of me, and never will, or ever need to.
Of course I wake up finally thinking, how wonderful to be who I am, made out of earth and water, my own thoughts, my own fingerprints β all that glorious, temporary stuff.
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cut my finger while slicing some broccoli and it somehow resembles the nike logo π«‘
also it hurt like a bitch ;-;
also it hurt like a bitch ;-;