@sidmentury.bsky.social
My first love language is words; I love notes and letters. I am learning that one of mine is gifts! Love to give ‘em and, heck, love to get ‘em.
Objects are my physical memory, like a slime mould’s trail.
Objects are my physical memory, like a slime mould’s trail.
February 9, 2025 at 9:25 PM
My first love language is words; I love notes and letters. I am learning that one of mine is gifts! Love to give ‘em and, heck, love to get ‘em.
Objects are my physical memory, like a slime mould’s trail.
Objects are my physical memory, like a slime mould’s trail.
I’m that pigeon you give the crumbs of your subway station Jamaican patty to.
February 5, 2025 at 8:22 PM
I’m that pigeon you give the crumbs of your subway station Jamaican patty to.
When I became a mom, I had to stop saying, “I don’t make the rules.” I do. (I’m not a mom yet.)
January 24, 2025 at 12:20 PM
When I became a mom, I had to stop saying, “I don’t make the rules.” I do. (I’m not a mom yet.)
i’m out there! (imagine stars)
January 24, 2025 at 3:03 AM
i’m out there! (imagine stars)
A poem: I follow an Andy Warhol bot on Bluesky. I’m afraid of getting lost. Where are the people? But I’m being found, slowly. I’m finding them. I have to tell myself it’s okay.
January 24, 2025 at 3:00 AM
A poem: I follow an Andy Warhol bot on Bluesky. I’m afraid of getting lost. Where are the people? But I’m being found, slowly. I’m finding them. I have to tell myself it’s okay.
At the end of the day is real life.
January 24, 2025 at 1:50 AM
At the end of the day is real life.