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I’ve had this infamous volume Incest: From a Journal of Love: The Unexpurgated Diary of Anaïs Nin, for years; I honestly just bought it because of the provocative title and because I had heard of her but was unfamiliar with her or her work (sub-rec: finally reading the books you actually own that have been sitting on the shelf). The concept of the narratives we create about our own lives has been on my mind lately as I write a narrative of my own; I was reminded of Nin when thinking about what Gore Vidal wrote (and didn’t write!) about her in his memoir, Palimpsest. After reading interviews with her + and articles about her life and her approach to publishing her journals (linked)—and seeing myself in her ways of coping, processing, and engaging with the world—I’m very excited to interrupt my own languorous navel-gazing reflection during my protracted period of post-holiday down-time and delve into hers/become too intimately acquainted with her delusional girl persona. The title pretty much exactly shows what to expect here, so it’s probably going to be an uncomfortable, gut-wrenching and painful read, to say the least, but it should be illuminating… pray for my stomach and my heart but it’s a great place to start
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Jan 9, 2025

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Miss Anaïs Nin really serves it to us hot in her published journals. doesn‘t hold back. I’m reading one now that I think her estate waited to publish after everyone involved was dead and honey I see why. I need to know what her sign was but I refuse to learn until I finish this book. I wish I could read the journals of people I know
Jan 25, 2024
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The Diary of Anaïs Nin, Vol. 1: 1931-1934
Mar 11, 2024
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Just go this book, Nin is my favorite writer. Delta Venus erotica was my first book I read from her. Today I got her diary from the twenties, volume 2, to be exact. I didn’t know but there was different volumes, which are different eras of her life being written by her. I took a picture of the library checkout because it’s from my university library and it hasn’t been checked out since 2004. (Broke the streak).
Feb 6, 2024

Top Recs from @taterhole

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My dad teases me about how when I was a little kid, my favorite thing to do when I was on the landline phone with somebody—be it a relative or one of my best friends—was to breathlessly describe the things that were in my bedroom so that they could have a mental picture of everything I loved and chose to surround myself with, and where I sat at that moment in time. Perfectly Imperfect reminds me of that so thanks for always listening and for sharing with me too 💌
Feb 23, 2025
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I’ve been thinking about how much of social media is centered around curating our self-image. When selfies first became popular, they were dismissed as vain and vapid—a critique often rooted in misogyny—but now, the way we craft our online selves feels more like creating monuments. We try to signal our individuality, hoping to be seen and understood, but ironically, I think this widens the gap between how others perceive us and who we really are. Instead of fostering connection, it can invite projection and misinterpretation—preconceived notions, prefab labels, and stereotypes. Worse, individuality has become branded and commodified, reducing our identities to products for others to consume. On most platforms, validation often comes from how well you can curate and present your image—selfies, aesthetic branding, and lifestyle content tend to dominate. High engagement is tied to visibility, not necessarily depth or substance. But I think spaces like PI.FYI show that there’s another way: where connection is built on shared ideas, tastes, and interests rather than surface-level content. It’s refreshing to be part of a community that values thoughts over optics. By sharing so few images of myself, I’ve found that it gives others room to focus on my ideas and voice. When I do share an image, it feels intentional—something that contributes to the story I want to tell rather than defining it. Sharing less allows me to express who I am beyond appearance. For women, especially, sharing less can be a radical act in a world where the default is to objectify ourselves. It resists the pressure to center appearance, focusing instead on what truly matters: our thoughts, voices, and authenticity. I’ve posted a handful of pictures of myself in 2,500 posts because I care more about showing who I am than how I look. In trying to be seen, are we making it harder for others to truly know us? It’s a question worth considering.
Dec 27, 2024