âCurtainâ
Commonplace scenery no.5.

shark vs the universe

JVL
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Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"

Love Begins

ellievsbear
almost home

pixel skylines
AnasAbdin
Show & Tell
ojovivo

Kaledo Art

romaâ
Stranger Things

çĽćĽ / Permanent Vacation
Keni
noise dept.

Origami Around

⣠Chile in a Photography âŁ

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@quiltie
âCurtainâ
Commonplace scenery no.5.

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sometimes a ghost is a ghost but other times a ghost is the prominent absence of a ghost
Please could you recommend me some thought provoking fiction?! I just want to reaaad but i don't know where to start
Books that will make you think about what a book is:
Artful, Ali Smithtrigger warning: death, loss, depression
A Visit from the Goon Squad, Jennifer Egan
Ulysses, James Joyce (this book is hard going [i read it at a rate of about 10-15 pages an hour] so maybe donât start with this, but itâs worth the pain â check out the online guide at infiniteulysses.com)Â
âDays of Readingâ, Marcel Proust (an essay)
Infinite Jest, David Foster Wallacetrigger warning:Â discusses depression, drug addiction, institutionalization
Middlemarch, George Eliot
Gravityâs Rainbow, Thomas Pynchon
Lowboy, John Wraytrigger warning: schizophrenia
NW, Zadie Smith
Books that will make you think about art and intelligence:
Arts of the Possible: Essays and Conversations by Adrienne Rich
Bluets, Maggie Nelson
The Night Sky: Writings on the Poetics of Experience, Ann Lauterbach
My Poets, Maureen McLane
Reality Hunger, David Shields
The Art of Recklessness, Dean Young
Books that will make you think about history:
The Rings of Saturn, W.G. Sebaldtrigger warning:Â somewhat graphic descriptions of world war II
Between the Acts, Virginia Woolf
Washington Square, Henry James
Art and Physics: Parallel Visions in Space, Time, and Light, Leonard Shlain
The Crying of Lot 49, Thomas Pynchon
Mrs. Dalloway, Virginia Woolf
Maus, Art Spiegelmantrigger warning: graphic holocaust descriptions
White Teeth, Zadie Smith
A Scrap of Time and Other Stories, Ida Finktrigger warning: graphic holocaust descriptions; violence
The Emigrants, W.G. Sebald
Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close, Jonathan Safran Foer
Books that will make you think about life, the human condition, etc.:
The Collected Poems of Emily Dickinson
The End of Vandalism, Tom Drury
The Portrait of a Lady, Henry James
Neon Vernacular, Yusef Komunyakka
Lit, Mary Karrtrigger warning: alcoholism, depression
Sinners Welcome, Mary Karrtrigger warning: depression
Crime and Punishment, Fyodor Dostoyevsky trigger warning: graphic descriptions of murder, brief description of attempted sexual assault
The Empathy Exams: Essays, Leslie Jamison trigger warning: explicit descriptions of violence and assault
This is Water, David Foster Wallace
The Tenth of December, George Saunders
The Road, Cormac McCarthytrigger warning: apocalyptic narrative (this sets some people off idk!)
Disgrace, J.M. Coetzee trigger warning: graphic rape
An Unquiet Mind, Kay Redfield Jamisontrigger warning: discussions of bipolar depression
Books that will make you think about love:
Coeur de Lion, Ariana Reines
If Not, Winter: Fragments of Sappho (trans. Anne Carson)
Sonnets from the Portuguese, Elizabeth Barrett Browning
âThe Beast in the Jungleâ, Henry James (short story)
Just Kids, Patti Smithtrigger warning:Â drug use
Eat Quite Everything You See, Leslie Adrienne Miller
Morning in the Burned House, Margaret Atwood
Bough Down, Karen Greentrigger warning: depression, grief, suicide
Never Let Me Go, Kashuo IshiguroÂ
This is How You Lose Her, Junot Diaz
The Wings of the Dove, Henry James
Lolita, Vladimir Nabokovtrigger warning: pedophilia. this is under the love category because despite the absolutely appalling subject itâs one of the most beautifully written testaments to obsessive love and desire, ever.
The Rehearsal, Eleanor Catton
Nothing Was the Sametrigger warning:Â death, grief, mental illness
Books that will make you think about humour and laughter:
The First Bad Man, Miranda Julytrigger warning: disturbing content, mental illness
The Liarâs Club, Mary Karr trigger warning: all kinds of mental illness, sexual assault, violence
A Supposedly Fun Thing Iâll Never Do Again, David Foster Wallace
The Broom of the System, David Foster Wallace trigger warning: sexual assault if Iâm not recalling incorrectly
The Love Affairs of Nathaniel P, Adelle Waldmann
Civilwarland in Bad Decline, George SaundersÂ
Orlando, Virginia Woolf
Letâs Pretend This Never Happened, Jenny Lawson
Books that will make you think about the books that almost never were:
A Room of Oneâs Own, Virginia Woolf
Literary Women, Ellen Moers
My Emily Dickinson, Susan Howe
Heroines, Kate Zambreno
A Literature of Their Own, Elaine Showalter
The Madwoman in the Attic, Gilbert & Gubar
The Handmaidâs Tale, Margaret Atwoodtrigger warning: gendered violence
Beloved, Toni Morrisontrigger warning: explicit discussions of slavery, murder
Women and Writing, Virginia Woolf
I am an Emotional Creature, Eve Enslertrigger warning: discussions of sexual assault
When you are alive enough, you experience intimacy in a thousand places. The world is nothing if not creative. And I am nothing if not touchable, if not malleable by nature. When you are alive enough, everything makes an impressionâespecially color, laughter, running water, the voice of someone you like. There is a tenderness so plenty you could never waste it. I savor the things I havenât tasted. When you are alive enough, you are easily bruised by sweetness. I dare to be the mosaic life makes of me. I dare to be soft enough to withstand a thousand loves.
Slouchin'

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if not then who am I?
the sad ghost club
4 / 30
read all 30
In the Aeroplane Over the Sea, Neutral Milk Hotel / Big Little Lies via witchinghour / Chinatown, Girlpool / art by @osidius , lyrics from Ketchum, ID, Boygenius / Man of Oil, Animal Collective
TekirdaÄ, Turkey by Meriç Tuna
every word out of guillermo del toroâs mouth is the most hardcore thing iâve ever heard and he says it all so casually like he doesnât even realize how much of a gothic visionary he isÂ
âSince childhood, Iâve been faithful to monsters. I have been saved and absolved by them, because monsters, I believe, are patron saints of our blissful imperfection, and they allow and embody the possibility of failingâ
I STILL THINK ABOUT THIS EVERY DAY OF MY LIFE

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Examples of a Brocken Spectre, a phenomenon where a personâs giant shadow appears magnified onto clouds miles away. The shadow from the sun behind the person creates a halo, giving it an angelic appearance. This mostly occurs on any misty mountainsides or cloud banks, and can even be seen from aeroplanes.
âWe are, as a species, addicted to story. Even when the body goes to sleep, the mind stays up all night, telling itself stories.â
â Jonathan Gottschall
Hereâs a fantasy setting Iâd vaguely like to do something with.
There are two worlds, Wake and Dream. Wake is our own world. Dream is another world people go to when they sleep. Itâs similar enough to our world - maybe it has the same land masses, maybe not. The laws of physics and economics and so on are definitely similar. Itâs not some kind of constantly shifting mist-realm where you create things by believing in them, or anything like that. Youâve got all the same social and economic pressures and so on.
People pop into existence in Dream by their motherâs side the first time they go to sleep as an infant. After that they can travel through Dream the same way they would travel through Wake. Every time they appear in Dream, theyâre in the same place they were when they left Dream the night before. This means that even if there are corresponding locations in Dream and Wake (eg the landmasses are the same), you might be in different places in each world. If you die in Wake, you disappear from Dream. If you die in Dream, you have deep dreamless sleeps for the rest of your life in Wake.
Nobody in Wake remembers the existence of Dream. They just wake up each morning with a collection of jumbled images they forget after a few minutes. But everyone in Dream has full memories of their waking life. Each night they appear in Dream and suddenly remember âOh, right, instead of just having one life I actually have two, only one of which I can remember during the daytimeâ.
Thereâs no reason peopleâs dream lives have to be like their waking lives - but plausibly they would be. If you went to medical school in Wake, you might as well be a doctor in Dream too. This suggests that Dream doesnât have much of an education system, since itâs more efficient to be educated in Wake and get education that persists through both lives.
But by the same token, Dream is more technologically advanced than Wake; Dream Einstein remembers all the discoveries he made during waking life and can spread them to Dream, but he also has decades worth of nights to think up more discoveries that never make it to the waking world. There should be on average about twice as many books/songs/poems by each of your favorite authors/musicians/poets in Dream, since Dreamers remember all the waking ones but can create more of their own.
Even if Dream has different land masses, thereâs no reason to think the countries would be the same. As a reductio ad absurdum, if the countries were the same up until some dramatic battle, the Dream armies would know what tactics the Wake armies used in that battle the day before and would change their plans based on that knowledge. That means the battles can have different outcomes and the political histories can diverge. But they shouldnât diverge too much. Dreamers still have their memories of being American or Russian or whatever, and they might feel patriotism toward their waking nations and try to expand them into the dreamworld, or subvert nations too far away from their ideals. Even if the Soviets win the Cold War in Dream, a lifetime of absorbing modern ideas about capitalism is going to make it hard for the Dreamers to really go all out with the communism thing. Or maybe if the propaganda is good enough theyâll just feel sorry for their poor deluded waking selves, who will never realize the glory of socialism. It could go either way.
Although the same people might tend to succeed in Dream and Wake just based on natural talent, it would be hard to directly transfer success from one to the other. A man who strikes oil in Dream would have no way of sending any of his money or status to the waking world; a man who strikes oil in Wake might become a bit famous in Dream and find a way to capitalize on that, but would have no other advantages.
Can anyone think of any more interesting or unexpected dynamics that might come up in a world like this?
a list of my favourite 2019 reads (in no particular order)
âview with a grain of sand: selected poems,â wisĹawa szymborska
âthe complete collected poems of maya angelouâ
âart objects,â jeanette winterson
âby grand central station i sat down and wept,â elizabeth smartÂ
âseam,â tarfia faizullahÂ
âplay it as it lays,â joan didion
âwar of the foxes,â richard siken
âmidwinter day,â bernadette mayer
âin the pines,â alice notley
âdeath is not an option,â suzanne riveccaÂ
âthe dead and the living,â sharon olds
âthe melancholy of anatomy,â shelley jackson
âedinburgh,â alexander chee
âthe woman destroyed,â simone de beauvoirÂ
âmonster: poems,â robin morgan
âhow we became human,â joy harjo
âayiti,â roxane gayÂ
âour andromeda,â brenda shaughnessy
âsecond childhood,â fanny howe
âthe lady in the looking glass,â virginia woolf
âthe journals of joyce carol oatesâ
âmathilda,â mary shelley
âflame & shadow,â sara teasdale
âgo tell it on the mountain,â james baldwin
âstagâs leap,â sharon olds
âhyperdream,â hĂŠlène cixous
âdevotions,â mary oliver
âthe center cannot hold,â elyn r. saks
âsexing the cherry,â jeanette winterson
âthe bloody chamber,â angela carter
âon earth weâre briefly gorgeous,â ocean vuong
âflesh wounds,â virginia l. blum
âthe journals of joyce carol oatesâ
âselected poems of frank oâharaâ
âthe dream of a common language,â adrienne rich
âon beauty,â zadie smith
âthe four chambered heart,â anaĂŻs nin
âgravity and grace,â simone weil
âselected poems of anna akhmatovaâ
âcollected poems of t.s. eliotâ
âdecreation,â anne carson
âcollected works of susan sontagâ
âcollected works of virginia woolfâ
âthe woman destroyed,â simone de beauvoirÂ
âgarments against women,â anne boyer
âthe love of a good woman,â alice munro
âher body and other parties,â carmen maria machado
âthe hour of the star,â clarice lispector
âgood bones,â margaret atwood
âcollected poems of sylvia plathâ
âselected works of joan didionâ
âdevotion,â patti smith
âveil and burn,â laurie clements lambeth
âgrief lessons,â anne carson
âthe collected poems of audre lordeâ
âerosion,â jorie graham
âthe empathy exams,â leslie jamison
âthe beauty myth,â naomi wolf
âselected works of sarah kaneâ
âwaiting,â marya hornbacher
âsane,â marya hornbacher
âstigmata,â hĂŠlène cixous
âa field guide to getting lost,â rebecca solnit
âkeith haring journalsâ
âwritten on the body,â jeanette winterson
ânight sky with exit wounds,â ocean vuong
âcrush,â richard siken
âharuko / love poems,â june jordan
âbluets,â maggie nelson
âthe collected poems of lucille cliftonâÂ
âcomplete poems of mariannne mooreâ
âpoems and prose,â christina rossetti
âthe gentrification of the mind,â sarah schulmanÂ
âpower politics,â margaret atwood
âa girl is a half-formed thing,â eimear mcbride
âone secret thing,â sharon olds
âthe silent woman,â janet malcom
âthe white book,â han kang
âbraiding sweetgrass,â robin wall kimmerer
ânot vanishing,â chrystos
âsinners welcome,â mary karr
âcatâs eye,â margaret atwood
âzami / sister outsider / undersong,â audre lorde
âsula,â toni morrisonÂ
âwe sinful women,â rukhsana ahmed
âthe house on mango street,â sandra cisnerosÂ
âblood and guts in highschool,â kathy acker
âunbearable weight,â susan bordo
ârhapsody in plain yellow,â marilyn chin
âthe hunger moon,â marge piercyÂ
âtrash,â dorothy allisonÂ
âthe cocktail party,â t.s. eliot
âlove lessons,â alda merini
âselected poems of marina tsvetaevaâ
âdisorder,â vanesha pravin
âa strangers mirror,â marilyn hacker
âhuman acts,â han kang
âdearest creature,â amy gerstler
âwhen my brother was an aztec,â natalie diaz
âsecond childhood,â fanny howe
âwhen the ghosts come ashore,â jacqui germain
Glass houses, Mitch Eckert

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Fragments from an ancient MS
1. The minotaur was sick again today. Could there be a more miserable sight? Crouched on the deck, heaving its guts up. Truly it was never meant to be at sea. But these are the things we are driven to, in order that we might have a future. Of course, the minotaur itself doesnât have a future any more. It is stupid, has no sea legs and is ludicrously top-heavy; all factors, I suspect, in the disappearance of its mate in the last storm. Does it realise this, somewhere at the back of its tiny brain? Maybe that is why it is so sad today. Â 2. I am sad to say it is far from the only doomed beast on this ship. We are a mess. I donât know how we thought we could ever do this. There has been storm after storm after storm. We are barely watertight. There is never enough food, and too often these days it is soaked in salt water or rotting. Maybe N. had a plan for this stage. I trusted him so much, and he was right about so much; about the rising of the waters, about what we needed to do. But he died on the second day at sea. We feed the cockatrice more carefully now. 3. Enough of this misery! The wind is rising, but it is fresh and curiously sweet. Perhaps the waters are receding, who knows. 4. Another storm. Good lord, at least I am still alive. But our losses are almost too hard to bear. There is a compartment at the back of the ship, one where we keep the creatures that do not mind getting too wet; the hippocampus and the merlion and the like. Some crates came loose at the height of the storm. The female hippocampus was impaled on a pickaxe and the male one trapped in the debris. The wives of S., H. and J. went in to free it. Something shifted, I donât know. But they became trapped too, and when the swell broke over the ship they were drowned. If I thought too hard about what this meant for the world I would despair. Why did I not think? Why did I not tell them to stay apart? So I am clearing up. It keeps the mind busy. Â 5. That fresher breeze again. J. says he has heard birds. Whatever may become of the world in the future, at least it will have birds. 6. There is land! I was almost out of hope, but no: here we are, stranded on a mud-bank, and every hour it gets a little larger, a little more populated with salt-poisoned trees and stranded shellfish. H. and J. have walked on it. The minotaur, even. I could hardly have imagined that it would survive, but here it is: squelching about on the new mud, mooing with joy. 7. The waters are still receding. I looked out of the window this morning and could not even see them. We are eating kelp and seawater and the fish the waters were kind enough to leave behind. But what a bind we are in! I am not sure how we will feed ourselves in the longer term. And maybe we will not need to. There is barely a pair of breeding animals left. All our work, for nothing! The male centaur lasted until landfall but was dead by the first morning. The manticore tore the female serpopard apart and ate it. Of course, we are done for as well. I am too old to bear children and in any case N. is dead. There are no other females among us. 8. I see that I have not written here in some time. Cautiously, carefully, I may have good news to report. Although our breeding pairs were wiped out, some of the beasts have been able to interbreed. The female centaur surprised us in May with a birth; sired, it seems, by the hippocampus. It is a little like both. A warm brown beast with four legs and the long, solemn head of its father. J. has been asking what I should call it. My reply? âA hippocampus-centaur, of courseâ. But I think that I could shorten that to âhorseâ. It seems to fit. 9. The griffin and the merlion, too (J. shortens this to âLionâ; he has been looking after the cubs, now in the second generation). I have high hopes for the union of the hippalectryon and the cockatrice. H. has been going through the lists of surviving beasts, one by one, and he claims there are several hundred potential crossbreeds. It seems we will be populating the world after all, just not quite with the creatures that we thought we were going to. And there are things growing now, and the sea is far away, and we only dream of it from time to time and do not have to see it when we wake. 10. S. asks who will write this history. We cannot cross-breed. Our days are numbered. But I think we will still have intelligent life to succeed us. I have had some success with the offspring of the centaur and the minotaur. They are scrawny little hairless things, but I have been teaching them language and they are quick to learn. 11. Of course, I will not quite tell them what happened. Let them forget the old animals, or at least put them to the back of their minds. Let N. be one of them, and let him have saved them as he saved all the new beasts. Let the new beasts have existed since the dawn of time. N. was a good soul. History deserves him to be bathed in uncomplicated glory. And so he shall be.
Did you guys know that John Keats called himself 'Junkets'?