@ricyrick87.bsky.social
Creative Writer. Figuring this out. Please hold.
I want to arouse dormant rooms within my mind, wordless and ancient, the last, remaining space carried over from the time of caves, each of us connected through this single passageway, to walk through is to inhabit humanity without the limits of our skin, to expand and lose oneself to oneself.
August 29, 2025 at 2:55 AM
I want to arouse dormant rooms within my mind, wordless and ancient, the last, remaining space carried over from the time of caves, each of us connected through this single passageway, to walk through is to inhabit humanity without the limits of our skin, to expand and lose oneself to oneself.
Have you ever witnessed someone who barely existed, known only by the ripples of their actions. They appear as quickly as they disappear, turning a sharp corner or racing through a closing door. An action looking backwards to its resting place, having been but nowhere to be found.
July 30, 2025 at 3:54 AM
Have you ever witnessed someone who barely existed, known only by the ripples of their actions. They appear as quickly as they disappear, turning a sharp corner or racing through a closing door. An action looking backwards to its resting place, having been but nowhere to be found.
Occasionally I catch a moment of joy out of the blue, like feeling a drop of rain after a brutal heatwave. It smacks you awake w/ the softest of kisses, a reminder of the kindness that lies in being surprised, that the future begs for ur courage, so it might caress you like this, again & again
June 28, 2025 at 9:24 PM
Occasionally I catch a moment of joy out of the blue, like feeling a drop of rain after a brutal heatwave. It smacks you awake w/ the softest of kisses, a reminder of the kindness that lies in being surprised, that the future begs for ur courage, so it might caress you like this, again & again
I wake & know I'll sleep again, intimately aware of this pattern & how, if folded, no time escapes. This allows me to skip ahead of my anxiety, but takes away the peace that comes in quiet moments. I try to reconcile what to do w/ this absence of time, when sunrise & sunset are best enjoyed unseen
June 7, 2025 at 6:00 PM
I wake & know I'll sleep again, intimately aware of this pattern & how, if folded, no time escapes. This allows me to skip ahead of my anxiety, but takes away the peace that comes in quiet moments. I try to reconcile what to do w/ this absence of time, when sunrise & sunset are best enjoyed unseen
I can feel most alone when I'm w/ myself. How can that be when I carry the entirety of my existence? a small universe wrapped in this fragile body. Im infinite, whittled down to the freedom of my choices. I'm what contains & what fills. But sometimes I lose my grip & can't help but spill into myself
May 28, 2025 at 3:12 AM
I can feel most alone when I'm w/ myself. How can that be when I carry the entirety of my existence? a small universe wrapped in this fragile body. Im infinite, whittled down to the freedom of my choices. I'm what contains & what fills. But sometimes I lose my grip & can't help but spill into myself
Tentacle touch, wrapped in greed. So complete, 'Separation' a word that babies speak: babbling but meaningful, on the cusp of something true. A squeeze becomes your inhale. Its weight your burden. Strangled living.
You're an octopus now, or is it the other way round?
You're an octopus now, or is it the other way round?
May 24, 2025 at 7:59 PM
Tentacle touch, wrapped in greed. So complete, 'Separation' a word that babies speak: babbling but meaningful, on the cusp of something true. A squeeze becomes your inhale. Its weight your burden. Strangled living.
You're an octopus now, or is it the other way round?
You're an octopus now, or is it the other way round?
I don't know if the Internet will ever save us. It feels like we're still hoping it might. Discourse is fractured. Authenticity struggles bc an individual can't be fully digitized. Information is cacophonous & reality, it turns out, can be easily mimicked. I don't know if the Internet can save us.
May 18, 2025 at 5:59 PM
I don't know if the Internet will ever save us. It feels like we're still hoping it might. Discourse is fractured. Authenticity struggles bc an individual can't be fully digitized. Information is cacophonous & reality, it turns out, can be easily mimicked. I don't know if the Internet can save us.
I was w/ my aunt & uncle many yrs ago, who were house sitting. Alone in the bedroom, I was upset & crying. I started petting this kitten, who wobbled a little as it strutted across the bed, awkward but regal. I remember thinking how funny that was.
Strange what memories stay with you.
Strange what memories stay with you.
May 7, 2025 at 6:28 PM
I was w/ my aunt & uncle many yrs ago, who were house sitting. Alone in the bedroom, I was upset & crying. I started petting this kitten, who wobbled a little as it strutted across the bed, awkward but regal. I remember thinking how funny that was.
Strange what memories stay with you.
Strange what memories stay with you.
I’ll never catch up to my future self. By the time I’m there, I’m no longer who I was. Yet I seek love all the same. I try to make the best choices for him. My actions are shadows, shaped by a hope I will be happier. We are moving not for ourselves, but who we'll become
April 20, 2025 at 3:57 AM
I’ll never catch up to my future self. By the time I’m there, I’m no longer who I was. Yet I seek love all the same. I try to make the best choices for him. My actions are shadows, shaped by a hope I will be happier. We are moving not for ourselves, but who we'll become
Flowers are beautiful, but they only show up once a year. Aren't we lucky to have flowers like that? Can you imagine a world without any? But as the winter thaws, all the flowers show their pretty faces. Sometimes I wish we could see flowers all year.
But I only notice them when they're in bloom.
But I only notice them when they're in bloom.
April 11, 2025 at 5:29 PM
Flowers are beautiful, but they only show up once a year. Aren't we lucky to have flowers like that? Can you imagine a world without any? But as the winter thaws, all the flowers show their pretty faces. Sometimes I wish we could see flowers all year.
But I only notice them when they're in bloom.
But I only notice them when they're in bloom.
It's comforting to know peace exists in nature even if I don't see it. That my reality is small & humbled by a far greater one. I will never know it, but it defines me, this quiet self that follows like a shadow, hugging me to whisper of a beautiful space untouched and holy.
April 5, 2025 at 9:07 PM
It's comforting to know peace exists in nature even if I don't see it. That my reality is small & humbled by a far greater one. I will never know it, but it defines me, this quiet self that follows like a shadow, hugging me to whisper of a beautiful space untouched and holy.
For a moment we stopped and listened. There was joy, even in the sadness and anger. He cut through the noise like a cathartic wound. Everyone drew closer to hear him, and side by side we cheered him on, unclenched our jaw, & felt the ache of so much weight lift off our shoulders: a second wind.
April 2, 2025 at 3:47 AM
For a moment we stopped and listened. There was joy, even in the sadness and anger. He cut through the noise like a cathartic wound. Everyone drew closer to hear him, and side by side we cheered him on, unclenched our jaw, & felt the ache of so much weight lift off our shoulders: a second wind.
The monsters are no longer under my bed. I beg for them to appear, worried they've learned the truth, or worse, I've forgotten their faces over the years. Instead, they may be out in the sun, unsuspicious and unafraid. Oh God, the monsters are no longer under my bed....
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March 29, 2025 at 7:45 PM
The monsters are no longer under my bed. I beg for them to appear, worried they've learned the truth, or worse, I've forgotten their faces over the years. Instead, they may be out in the sun, unsuspicious and unafraid. Oh God, the monsters are no longer under my bed....
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(Reposting w/minor edit)
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(Reposting w/minor edit)
Existence touched itself & fell in love w/ the sense of connection, a deep longing to re-connect gave way to the universe, who split into a multitude so it might fall in love in infinite ways, through stars, flesh & time. From cradle to grave, it was always a greed of oneself that sparked this life
March 29, 2025 at 6:43 PM
Existence touched itself & fell in love w/ the sense of connection, a deep longing to re-connect gave way to the universe, who split into a multitude so it might fall in love in infinite ways, through stars, flesh & time. From cradle to grave, it was always a greed of oneself that sparked this life
It's beautiful to watch them lie. That kind of apathy for the truth is inspiring, a hypnotic nihilism with no rhythm or grace. The thrill as they undress for the public, how intoxicating, a humiliation that arouses with each denial. We all know the truth, but it's too beautiful to look away
March 27, 2025 at 2:53 AM
It's beautiful to watch them lie. That kind of apathy for the truth is inspiring, a hypnotic nihilism with no rhythm or grace. The thrill as they undress for the public, how intoxicating, a humiliation that arouses with each denial. We all know the truth, but it's too beautiful to look away
Existing can be rebellious all on its own.
March 20, 2025 at 6:08 PM
Existing can be rebellious all on its own.
Watch me disassemble, piece by piece, the fragility of my ego. I've kept you waiting, haven't I? So close I smell your sweat. It'll be unsatisfying. Better to unwrap than to hold this gift I offer you. But I've broken everything except myself. And God help me, I'm enjoying this too.
March 10, 2025 at 3:09 AM
Watch me disassemble, piece by piece, the fragility of my ego. I've kept you waiting, haven't I? So close I smell your sweat. It'll be unsatisfying. Better to unwrap than to hold this gift I offer you. But I've broken everything except myself. And God help me, I'm enjoying this too.
I don't want to sit with my anger, because if I do I'll find out a terrible truth: eventually it fades. How mundane, to die like everything else.
March 8, 2025 at 4:37 AM
I don't want to sit with my anger, because if I do I'll find out a terrible truth: eventually it fades. How mundane, to die like everything else.
Even when the world burns, honey is sweet. When all the bees have gone quiet, the stars have dimmed & space continues to stretch as the earth rests, it will be a truth unbroken by time. This knowledge, uniquely filtered through the fleeting, human experience: honey is sweet.
February 28, 2025 at 8:23 PM
Even when the world burns, honey is sweet. When all the bees have gone quiet, the stars have dimmed & space continues to stretch as the earth rests, it will be a truth unbroken by time. This knowledge, uniquely filtered through the fleeting, human experience: honey is sweet.
Deep inhale, hold, and reflect on this: even if human nature is prone to violence and self destruction, joy stubbornly will exist, always and forever. Long exhale, hold, and reflect: of these two impulses, are they valued in the same way? Now release and breathe.
February 26, 2025 at 4:22 AM
Deep inhale, hold, and reflect on this: even if human nature is prone to violence and self destruction, joy stubbornly will exist, always and forever. Long exhale, hold, and reflect: of these two impulses, are they valued in the same way? Now release and breathe.
How do you sound when rolled off the tongue? Do you rhyme? Are you the first word to a poem, or the sharp, satisfying edge of a curse? How shapely are your syllables? And do you command, or are you a greeting waiting for an answer? If you can be any word, what word would you be?
February 21, 2025 at 6:13 PM
How do you sound when rolled off the tongue? Do you rhyme? Are you the first word to a poem, or the sharp, satisfying edge of a curse? How shapely are your syllables? And do you command, or are you a greeting waiting for an answer? If you can be any word, what word would you be?
Let me keep you up at night w/ thoughts that spark questions to answers u'll never find, but whose pursuit leads to greater riddles & fewer words to describe them, what depth you've stumbled upon, lost in the sea of ur Musings, too vast to waste time w/ sleep, when there's so much of you to discover
February 16, 2025 at 5:51 AM
Let me keep you up at night w/ thoughts that spark questions to answers u'll never find, but whose pursuit leads to greater riddles & fewer words to describe them, what depth you've stumbled upon, lost in the sea of ur Musings, too vast to waste time w/ sleep, when there's so much of you to discover
We r predators w/ all our basic needs met. We are animals who pretend to be otherwise. We are delightfully absurd but take ourselves too seriously. We are contradictions but speak in binary, striping all color from such tensions that bleed and give us life. We are silly, but so incredibly sad.
February 12, 2025 at 10:52 PM
We r predators w/ all our basic needs met. We are animals who pretend to be otherwise. We are delightfully absurd but take ourselves too seriously. We are contradictions but speak in binary, striping all color from such tensions that bleed and give us life. We are silly, but so incredibly sad.
It sneaks up on you, soft as a feline, I am both predator and prey, this feeling of joy, how sublime to submit, in a single bite I taste my happiness as it runs down my chin, claws sink in so I can't run, caught by my dominance.
February 9, 2025 at 1:19 AM
It sneaks up on you, soft as a feline, I am both predator and prey, this feeling of joy, how sublime to submit, in a single bite I taste my happiness as it runs down my chin, claws sink in so I can't run, caught by my dominance.
There were no eggs on the shelves. The dairy was practically gone. Only a few cartons of milk left. Shoppers glanced at the uneasy display of scarcity. Not concerned enough to spark action when the rest of the aisles were stocked. Their carts still too full to make room for the revolution.
February 7, 2025 at 12:52 AM
There were no eggs on the shelves. The dairy was practically gone. Only a few cartons of milk left. Shoppers glanced at the uneasy display of scarcity. Not concerned enough to spark action when the rest of the aisles were stocked. Their carts still too full to make room for the revolution.