07.2020 ✧ the sky was really blue. i was wearing jeans n an old black zip hoodie. i was at the back office of my old elementary school having an anxiety attack. “don’t worry, they’re here for you, you know that. don’t be afraid, they won’t leave you,” and that voice lingers, way too clear, way too loud, way too real.

08.2020 ✧ when i asked my girlfriend out n i heard a spirit saying, “you’ve just changed your entire timeline.”

12.2020 ✧ we’re in my childhood room n there’s a thunderstorm outside. inside there’s a mourning dove flying n knocking itself against my room’s walls. my mother says i won’t ever catch it, but i do. the bird is huge on my 7-year-old hands. i try to release it outside, but the gale is too strong n the sky is caliginous n heavy. despite that, i throw the bird out of the window. it falls down; its wings are chipped n clipped at the edges. i wonder—without guilt—if it will be able to fly. it does. sluggishly n messy, until a burst of wind carries it far up into the sky.

01.2021 ✧ we were all investigating a gigantic manor while wearing the chainsaw man uniforms. after the investigation is over, i sit on a soccer field n watch the kids play. a blonde boy runs past me. “I should’ve been like this huh,” i think. after that, some ppl offer us a drink that's a black gelatin that tastes like ink. We then start a violent fight with some cabaret girls.

02.2021 ✧ the day i met my anima. she was bruised, weak, severely hurt, n vomiting maggots on a dirty hospital gurney. “she asked me to choke her, not to drown her, oh my god” i tell them, but the scientists were much more worried about the maggots. “it’s a new type,” they said.

05.2024 ✧ while having a conversation w my future self from another timeline, who has seen other parallel futures n universes of mine, he tells me, “you here, you there... it doesn’t make any difference to your family. you’re not this nuclear fallout you think you are. the other you is now screaming and crying, because he destroyed himself just to make them happy, and it did not make any difference. completely, utterly, worthless.”

05.2024 ✧ i find my shadow in a tiny room made of reflective glass. its insides are dark, cold, and moist; there are no windows nor light, and there’s mould growing on the ceiling n corners. the room is cramped with cardboard boxes, filled w food, gadgets, books, toys, etc. my shadow sleeps on the biggest box—it’s hidden by the hoard of other boxes. inside, there’s a fluffy quilt and comfy blankets and pillows; it’s like a bird’s nest.

09.2024 ✧ i met my father’s soul a couple of days after he passed away. we were hanging out on a railing, on top of a building. the wind was crisp n the sky was blue; early morning. i was wearing a black zip hoodie, he was clean-shaved, n his hair was damp, like he used to wear when i was a baby. he was as shocked as i was. “so i died, huh,” he said. i couldn’t answer anything but “...yeah”. we both sighed, digesting reality.

06.2025 ✧ it’s the ghost of 2017. you’re cold. the wind is biting your knees. your hands ache to hold a hammer again—to destroy something again. it’s the same, but different. your soul is still small n feeble. you watch the same drama you watched w your mum, this time w your aunt. you hurt your hands n the same places, this time, accidentaly. you feel the same loneliness, coldness, n loss of direction you used to feel back then. haunting ghost, what do you seek?