Rainy New Year’s Eve in San Francisco.
Peace to us all in 2026

Never stop writing yourself into existence

Decorating the darkness with tinsel and sparkles

It’s a strange feeling to not miss anything or anyone and to not feel haunted. Maybe because I’m writing again.

Dreamt of post WW3 Paris. I’m in a surviving family’s bunker, looking out at thousands of rows of bunkers covered in vibrant graffiti. Skaters’ playground, mesmerizing. The family are found people, Indian, Nigerian, French. They celebrate every event with paper flowers, rituals.

Time traveling on the long slow bus through the city

The magical Monday to Saturday transformation from corporate bitch to island witch

Storybook style AI generated illustration of two foxes in snow. Woodcut style with art nouveau frame. From the Elsewhere dream journal app.

From the Elsewhere dream journal app, which generates interpretations and art for your entries.

Micro dream about two foxes emerging unscathed from the snow after a fire, one called Flame and the other called Destiny.

Wonder sparkling through my blood

Temescal

Deliciously lush lazy summer days, drifting between daydreams and sleep, floating under the trees and endless blue sky

Nearly viewed this last night, will make sure to watch it soon.

Pulled myself from one rabbit hole into another

Micro sleep for micro dream!

your words melt on my tongue
like a summer memory
drizzled with poems

#haiku
#DailyHaikuPrompt (shaved ice)

Woke from a micro dream where we were hanging up a banner saying: We begin again, but not from this world.

Dreamt wild dogs growled outside the broken window in the dead of night. I shout loudly in defense and we have a standoff. My shouts turn into barks and then I’m howling, howling, turning into some other primal thing, and even the dogs are afraid.

Burning for days, parched for quenching waters and cool whispers

Dreamt I was in a luxurious resort where we all lounged in silk robes in dark wood paneled chambers. My suite was draped in billowing, diaphanous tapestries of deep midnight and lapis blues, adorned with intricate embroidery of entwining vines and peacocks. Of course I take pics.

may slips away
day moons and deer paths

To be dreamt by the dream.

Summer’s calling and we get wilder every day, unwinding towards the infinite green and gold

Dreamt I lived in war torn France. I’m an ordinary shop girl by day and scheming with the rebellion by night. My room is hidden inside an old bookstore with a false storefront. The city lost power, there’s only candlelight. Danger lurks everywhere.

Woke up murmuring ancient incantations again

Dance-fighting my way outta this rage, as per usual, music on blast and twirling like a shaman

Driftwood I can’t recall the last time I’d seen Mia and now here she was at my front door, head shaved, asking for a ride to the airport.

This one is close to my heart.

open.substack.com/pub/drifting...

We create sublime
chaos every night
stories mind-reeling
and heart-rending

the silk of dreams
slipping through trembling
fingers as eyes open to
morning’s harsh punishment

and we forever dwell
in between dark & light
creation & destruction
magic & horror

🩷