Laika's still up there. not her body, sure, but her soul is. i saw it through my telescope one night when i was looking for aliens. she was sniffing for table scraps under saturn's ring. she chases comets and bites down on satellites. i saw her napping by neptune, she was kicking her feet. passing through the oort cloud is like the stroke of a hand on her fur. eyes like marbles and four little paws like flames. she bobs through jupiter's moons like cold moscow streets. up there the stars are a great big field. and look, she's running so fast. god damn, look at her go.
Sylvia Plath, The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath
The Pittsburgh Press, Pennsylvania, January 14, 1935
Liberty Avenue, Pittsburgh, 1940
Trying to tame the electricity in my veins
Trazodone, Xanax, Abels and ‘caines
I think this weekend I’ll go on an alcohol bender
But at least drinks are free when you’re the bartender.
A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness.
Robert Frost
“When I die, leave my body in the woods. The wolves will be gentler than any man.”
-unknown
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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