Jenny (she/her) and Malia (she/they) discuss Void 7.10 & 7.11. They have gathered to mourn the loss of the best and most reckless diabolist they ever knew… what’s-his-name.
This week’s Discussion Question: Tell us about a story that made you question a belief you had so much that it made you feel like a bad person.
When I am dead, my dearest, Sing no sad songs for me;Plant thou no roses at my head, Nor shady cypress tree:Be the green grass above me With showers and dewdrops wet;And if thou wilt, remember, And if thou wilt, forget.I shall not see the shadows, I shall not feel the rain;I shall not hear the nightingale Sing on, as if in pain:And dreaming through the twilight That doth not rise nor set,Haply I may remember, And haply may forget.
Christina Rossetti, Song
Do not stand By my grave, and weep.I am not there, I do not sleep—I am the thousand winds that blowI am the diamond glints in snowI am the sunlight on ripened grain,I am the gentle, autumn rain.As you awake with morning’s hush,I am the swift, up-flinging rushOf quiet birds in circling flight,I am the day transcending night.Do not stand By my grave, and cry—I am not there, I did not die.
Clare Harner, Immortality
Once I spoke the language of the flowers,Once I understood each word the caterpillar said,Once I smiled in secret at the gossip of the starlings,And shared a conversation with the houseflyin my bed.Once I heard and answered all the questionsof the crickets,And joined the crying of each falling dyingflake of snow,Once I spoke the language of the flowers. . . .How did it go?How did it go?
Shel Silverstein, Forgotten Language
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This episode was released when Pale was up to (approximately) 18.a.