Zombie Dream RealmI had one of those dreams that feel more like a movie than sleep. A whole world unfolded... strange, dangerous, and yet vivid enough that waking up felt like being thrown out of a story halfway through. The dream started with an enchanted newspaper,... See More »
When the Sky Forgets to PretendThere are evenings when the horizon looks too tired to keep its mask on. The clouds stop arranging themselves into something pretty, the colors bleed without grace, and the light just falls... clumsy, uneven, raw. And in that strange imperfection,... See More »
Fragments I Left on the TableUnfinished sentences. A half-empty glass. A thought I didn't get to finish. Some days, I am nothing but leftovers of myself... small pieces scattered, waiting for someone to notice, or maybe just waiting for me to gather them back.
Apologies That Don't Fit the CrimeThere are apologies that are too small for the damage they follow, and apologies that are too big for something barely worth a sorry. Both leave me uneasy, like trying on clothes that don't quite fit. I think about the way we fumble over apologies,... See More »
Why Compliments Feel Like Foreign LanguagesIt's strange how hearing something kind can feel more uncomfortable than hearing something cruel. Criticism slips in easily.. I know exactly where to file it. But compliments? They make me stumble, like someone's speaking a language I never studied.... See More »
That Awkward Dance of Holding the Door Too Long Poll (5) See Poll OptionsWe've all done it... holding the door for someone who's just a little too far away, then watching them half-jog, half-smile their way toward us. It's... See More »
Wealth skipped us, Trauma didn'tCarrying Generational Trauma Instead of Wealth Some families pass down houses, land, or businesses. Others pass down stories, resilience, and scars that never quite healed. When you grow up in the shadow of generational trauma, it can feel like you... See More »
Is There a Professional Way to Pretend You Don't Know Your Psychiatrist at Work?So there I was, in the middle of my workday, when I spotted my psychiatrist. At ✨work✨ Of all places. My coworkers have no idea I even see one, and suddenly I'm in a silent staring contest, debating whether I should wave like a friend, nod like a str... See More »
The Mystery of Missing SocksI don't know where they go, but I'm convince there's a secret world where all the missing socks live together. They probably hang out with missing pens, lost hair ties, and that one earring I swore I left on the table. Every time laundry day comes,... See More »
The Silent Company of DreamsLast night, I dreamed of you. You never spoke, yet you stayed beside me... steady and near. It was quiet, but not empty. As if silence itself was enough, and presence was its own kind of language.
wings in my hands 🦋This afternoon, I crossed paths with a butterfly — not just any butterfly, but one of those big, striking ones that look almost unreal when their wings catch the light. It was struggling, caught in a quiet battle with the wind and the ground. I... See More »
in between hourswhile the sky blinked slow and nobody asked anything from me. afternoons feel like limbo. not morning’s promise, not night’s softness — just this quiet middle where time forgets itself. i’m not doing much, just sitting with thoughts that don’t ask... See More »
sunlight speaks in hushesthe morning tiptoes in, not with fanfare, but with golden fingers pulling the night off your shoulders. you don’t need to be ready yet. you just need to breathe. the world can wait while you sip the silence. the sun already believes in you. isn’t... See More »
slightly blurrywith one sock on and a brain full of static. my thoughts feel like fog on glass. nothing clear, just shapes and feelings. i don’t mind it, though. some nights aren’t for clarity. some nights are just for being a little blurry, a little soft, a... See More »
Which fictional character would you trust to babysit your pet (and why is it a bad idea)?Mine would be Anne Shirley (Anne of Green Gables) Vibe: Cottage core, overly apologetic Why you’d trust her: She’d write your pet poetry, feed them berries, and make up lullabies. Why it’s a bad idea: Comes back with your cat in a handmade bonne... See More »
Evening thingsPosted on a night that didn’t ask for much, and maybe that’s what made it kind. tonight feels like warm laundry. like quiet dishes drying on the rack. like background music that no one notices but your soul somehow dances to. i didn’t do anything... See More »
tuesday, nothing makes sense and maybe that’s okayPosted at 9:17 AM, wearing socks that don’t match and a brain that’s still half-asleep. i woke up today thinking about spoons. how some of them go missing for weeks and then reappear in places like your backpack or under your bed like they’ve been... See More »
Cthulhu Dreams in Color: A Counter-NarrativeThey say I came to devour. That I rise from the depths to bring madness — to claw at the edges of reality, to twist the sky, to crack the minds of men like brittle shells. But tell me this: Have you ever tried sleeping for centuries, only to wake t... See More »
The Quiet Kind of SadThere’s a sadness I only feel when I eat breakfast alone. Not a dramatic sadness. Just a quiet, familiar “wish someone was here” type of thing. Even if we don’t talk. Just ••• here.
After the Call EndsThe call ends. The silence after hits different. Like your voice echoed too long and now the walls remember it better than I do. I don't even know what we talked about I just liked hearing you breathe.
Monday FeelsI woke up today feeling 51 instead of 21. Tired, overstimulated, under-touched. I’m not sad. I’m just... full of feelings with nowhere to put them.
fight or flight? I flewI've never had a huge argument with my sister except for that time she hit me with a mop and I sucker punched her chest, but a week ago she and I got into a huge argument, we we're both exhausted because we had to look after our mother who just got... See More »
