ephemeral rolodex soup
LightNews LightNews
banner
nutmegpie.bsky.social
ephemeral rolodex soup
@nutmegpie.bsky.social
38 followers 13 following 120 posts
..we art here..

°holistic sophist°

…assembling realities…

may all your edges ever be liquid
🎟️🫀🧠🎨

https://linktr.ee/the.likely.accident.foundry
Posts Replies Media Videos
nutmegpie.bsky.social
I’m not sure how to learn to live with my emotions on the surface and still I’m tired of observing my observations of my observing my observations being observed… #dissociation
September 7, 2026 at 10:09 PM
nutmegpie.bsky.social
Shhh… don’t tell anybody I reopened my Etsy shop after four years yesterday but there’s so much more happening… so keep it quiet! #secret
September 2, 2026 at 4:27 AM
nutmegpie.bsky.social
I want to be disappointed more often

it means I cared enough to desire

to dismiss my wanting and not having
is doing myself a disservice
avoiding the let down only guarantees it so instead I relish in possibility
loving every fall for the inevitable resurgence to soar…
#poetry
August 28, 2026 at 6:10 PM
nutmegpie.bsky.social
404 this morning the moon and mercury approaching my sun, bringing up the error in not having permission to express for so long… #poetry #love
A screenshot of the Bluesky post page with a poem typed out that actually has the capacity to be posted but needed added information that would not fit The poem written reads I dream my love is learnėd a frequent flyer worn smooth with touch lingers in the air famous in consideration replicated widely held tightly to chest speaks loudly kisses softly cries rivers and mostly that my love finds its way to you. A photo of a notebook page with poetry written in purple fountain pen ink from an orange acrylic pen… Scribbles along the side editing visible the poetry reads I dream my love is learnėd a frequent flyer worn smooth with touch lingers in the air famous in consideration replicated widely held tightly to chest speaks loudly kisses softly cries rivers and mostly that my love finds its way to you.
August 11, 2026 at 6:15 PM
nutmegpie.bsky.social
Sometimes the shape of action is created by circumstances that nobody wants to look at…

#poetry #shame
A screenshot of the Bluesky posting interface with a poem that’s 22 characters too long to be posted typed out The poem reads shame is a funny thing hiding its face in flowers all dressed up in achievement offering value carrying worth blinded by its own reflection dodging the glare with guilt walking a path etched in its own past wearing shoes 10 sizes too small asking permission to grow buying its presence with silence in the shape of self. A dot grid lined notebook laying on a dark teal blanket with poetry written out a few scribbles here and there in purple fountain pen ink the writers hand still at the corner holding the orange acrylic pen that did the writing, and the poem reads  shame is a funny thing hiding its face in flowers all dressed up in achievement offering value carrying worth blinded by its own reflection dodging the glare with guilt walking a path etched in its own past wearing shoes 10 sizes too small asking permission to grow buying its presence with silence in the shape of self.
August 10, 2026 at 5:14 PM
nutmegpie.bsky.social
I don’t know what this is. I need answers.

#poetry or #prose maybe just my exhaustion with explaining folding into nothing without awareness finally waking up and having no way to show that gratitude that isn’t overwhelming those I love and value most.
A screenshot of the Bluesky posting page with thoughts typed out too long to be posted that reads What do you call it when you’re pleasing performance wasn’t a sweetness and instead of stoicism? when you gave everyone what they needed - a place to escape a shoulder to cry on a voice of guidance a permission slip to be messy and asked for nothing in return how do you say I was hiding from myself because I needed to earn my right to need a meeting yours is how I was told that had to happen? A photo of writing on a notebook page from an Orange fountain pen filled with purple ink… the writing says What do you call it when you’re pleasing performance wasn’t a sweetness and instead of stoicism? when you gave everyone what they needed - a place to escape a shoulder to cry on a voice of guidance a permission slip to be messy and asked for nothing in return how do you say I was hiding from myself because I needed to earn my right to need a meeting yours is how I was told that had to happen?
August 7, 2026 at 1:44 AM
nutmegpie.bsky.social
The greatest thing I’ve ever learned is just to love and be loved in return… #poetry
A screenshot of the Bluesky posting page with poetry typed out that’s 177 characters too long to be posted The poem reads there was a time, I thought falling in love meant discovering a desperate need for the object of my affections undivided attention I’ve come to find it it’s more like the bliss of rummaging through candy spilled across the ground after the piñata‘s burst following gifted longing to uncover all the goodies that had been veiled perpetual motion made of delicious desire cleaved open over and over savoring each new crack in the effigy revealing more possibility to love A photo of a notebook having freshly been written in with purple fountain pen ink scrambled and crossed out over and over again forming today’s poetry that reads there was a time, I thought falling in love meant discovering a desperate need for the object of my affections undivided attention I’ve come to find it it’s more like the bliss of rummaging through candy spilled across the ground after the piñata‘s burst following gifted longing to uncover all the goodies that had been veiled perpetual motion made of delicious desire cleaved open over and over savoring each new crack in the effigy revealing more possibility to love Laid over top of work being done a black keyboard with lights glowing at a stack of art made of crayon and self expression weights to be highlighted later in the day… 
August 6, 2026 at 7:54 PM
nutmegpie.bsky.social
Another day in the neighborhood dissecting neglect… #poetry
A screenshot of The Bluesky post creation UI showing a poem typed out with 345 too many characters The poem reads once I wanted to be a portable girlfriend you could put me in your pocket and take me with you if nothing else I’d get to be along for the ride gaining experience through what I might find had the choices been mine I sought permission to be accessory to their wardrobe of biography I learned this from my mother… she taught me how to fold the origami of my interior to be the tastiest bite-size treat on the table when I started unfolding my heart every crease in my paper showed evidence of my willingness to love my once flat paper blossoming exposed the perfect wallet size payment had always been the orchard …and now I get to eat the fruit A photograph of modern poetry written on an embroidery repaired that ruled notebook in purple fountain pen Inc. the orange acrylic fountain pen lying between the two pages the poem written covers in scribbled handwriting the editing evidence on the page The poem reads  once I wanted to be a portable girlfriend you could put me in your pocket and take me with you if nothing else I’d get to be along for the ride gaining experience through what I might find had the choices been mine I sought permission to be accessory to their wardrobe of biography I learned this from my mother… she taught me how to fold the origami of my interior to be the tastiest bite-size treat on the table when I started unfolding my heart every crease in my paper showed evidence of my willingness to love my once flat paper blossoming exposed the perfect wallet size payment had always been the orchard …and now I get to eat the fruit
August 4, 2026 at 3:50 PM
nutmegpie.bsky.social
I just freed this from the tape after months and months because I had misplaced the originals to the rest of the series it’s a part of and was too disappointed in myself to finish it when I couldn’t find the others,
then yesterday I found them… and here we are today. #crayonart
A woman’s face and upper shoulders drawn in toddler crayons on white paper clipped to a dirty clipboard. Dark scribbly curls frame a round face with big eyes looking up and left. The mouth is slightly parted, lower lip fuller than the upper. Bare shoulders visible, no clothing. Pink and purple crayon mashed into the background. Yellow six-pointed stars scattered around her head like she walked into a cartoon wall and liked it there. Text above her head reads “I AM A MOTHERFUCK’N’” in wobbly hand-lettered capitals, green with red shadows, or red with green shadows, hard to tell, the crayon didn’t care. Below her chin across her chest is written the finally of the statement, “STAR” in big chunky orange letters with blue glow shadow, sitting across her chest like a name tag for the universe. The clipboard has paint smears, old tape, and evidence of previous crimes committed against paper. The whole thing looks like a five-year-old and a Renaissance master got into a fistfight inside a Lisa Frank fever dream and both won.
August 2, 2026 at 3:37 AM
nutmegpie.bsky.social
begin again; I want the start over
I’m not fleeing, I’m rooted in expansion
to meet again and again
one right after the other

another chance to love you deeper
in every change we make

(I keep meeting new versions of myself and while yesterday got eaten by an old one I’m here again today) #poetry
A photo of dot rolled notebook with purple fountain pen writing forming poetry across the page half of it crossed out and started it again the poem reads begin again; I want the start over I’m not fleeing, I’m rooted in expansion to meet again and again one right after the other another chance to love you deeper in every change we make
July 27, 2026 at 7:32 PM
nutmegpie.bsky.social
Look at how good my service is…

#itsmybirthday
July 26, 2026 at 11:43 PM
nutmegpie.bsky.social
It’s two days till my birthday and I’ve spent nearly half a century being what everybody else needed me to be and not one of them was capable of loving me once I discovered I hadn’t been allowed to be the me I truly wanted to be…
#poetry
A screenshot of the Bluesky posting page with a poem that has 277 too many characters the poem reads What’s it like to have a friend? those who’ve called me Friend seem now to be so far from what I imagine a friend could be… they used me for the experience I created the adventures I traveled the stability I wasn’t allowed to be without they used me for the advice I gave the attention I paid the love I shared they could only see their own projection of their ideal me all expectation to perform the screen they’d laid over me and boy was that good… they couldn’t hold the whole of me; not even for a minute once I was no longer asking permission to play their role. A photo of a dot grid ruled notebook page with purple fountain pen writing forming a poem written by the hand in the corner of the picture with a Tiffany Strawberry Fork turned into a spoon worn on her thumb as a ring chipped green nail polish and an orange acrylic fountain pen held tightly still as she takes the photo The poem reads What’s it like to have a friend? those who’ve called me Friend seem now to be so far from what I imagine a friend could be… they used me for the experience I created the adventures I traveled the stability I wasn’t allowed to be without they used me for the advice I gave the attention I paid the love I shared they could only see their own projection of their ideal me all expectation to perform the screen they’d laid over me and boy was that good… they couldn’t hold the whole of me; not even for a minute once I was no longer asking permission to play their role.
July 24, 2026 at 3:54 PM
nutmegpie.bsky.social
Today’s lesson an externalizing self started at 1:23 in the morning and I was left wanting to make changes I couldn’t see yet today I thought I had it and then it evolved further as I typed… #poetry
A screenshot of the Bluesky app posting screen with poetry typed out that is too long to be posted and is being circumvented through the screenshot The poem reads I don’t know how to be… I mean I know how to spill myself on the floor and rummage through the damage finding all the glimmers of gold in the cracks. I know how to dream impossible realities into their own being while no permissions been granted I know how to flirt with attention so deeply I hold up the whole world with magnitude of my affection I know how to sit in the spaciousness of my solitude until it trembles deep in the ground beneath me I know how to ride the impact of my gravity reeling in the feeling from the atmosphere But I don’t know how to be what anybody seems to need of me without erasing all of the me that I’ve found Backyard vibes background scattered with cardboard dollhouse creations cat toys and a muggy summer day lend to creating word connections hardly anyone will read A notebook page full of green fountain pen writing scribbled across it into poetry that reads I don’t know how to be… I mean I know how to spill myself on the floor and rummage through the damage finding all the glimmers of gold in the cracks. I know how to dream impossible realities into their own being while no permissions been granted I know how to flirt with attention so deeply I hold up the whole world with magnitude of my affection I know how to sit in the spaciousness of my solitude until it trembles deep in the ground beneath me I know how to ride the impact of my gravity reeling in the feeling from the atmosphere But I don’t know how to be what anybody seems to need of me without erasing all of the me that I’ve found Written by a pale hand with the green chipped fingernails and a silver Tiffany Fork turned into a ring worn on the hand doing the writing.
July 14, 2026 at 1:48 AM
nutmegpie.bsky.social
One after another today and my words seem to be born of my evening star Virgo Venus coming home. Both an exercise in self sanctified devotion. #poetry
Picture of a notebook sitting on a lap with a bright spot of sunshine peeking through the shade revealing a poem written in scribble green fountain pen ink reading To be so afraid of possible grief you lose the love itself... love and grief grow intertwined indistinguishable branching vines twisted together tightly flower blooms in evidence of fleeting presence leaves change color unfolding moments endowed with pleasure & pain grown from ground anointed in oil of awe and sorrow A screenshot of Bluesky app posting page with a poem typed out that’s got too many characters to post The poem reads To be so afraid of possible grief you lose the love itself... love and grief grow intertwined indistinguishable branching vines twisted together tightly flower blooms in evidence of fleeting presence leaves change color unfolding moments endowed with pleasure & pain grown from ground anointed in oil of awe and sorrow A photo of a notebook page with green fountain pen writing scribbled into poetry in the background the backyard setting with which it was written green trees rollerskates Mary Jane consumption apparatus cat tent and all. the poem reads I'll grieve you as I love you because I love deep and wide, open and long from great heights & lowest lows all of this love leaves me no choice but to long for each present moment to be frozen in its complexity as I hold its non recurring completeness for the miracle it is and I've already lost the moment I've acknowledged it; with all the encompassing awe for the next chance to discover the wonder of love while I worship that it's already slipped away. A screenshot of the Bluesky app posting prompts with a poem typed out that has too many characters to be posted the poem reads I'll grieve you as I love you because I love deep and wide, open and long from great heights & lowest lows all of this love leaves me no choice but to long for each present moment to be frozen in its complexity as I hold its non recurring completeness for the miracle it is and I've already lost the moment I've acknowledged it; with all the encompassing awe for the next chance to discover the wonder of love while I worship that it's already slipped away.
July 11, 2026 at 9:20 PM
nutmegpie.bsky.social
Now my life is sweet like cinnamon like a fucking dream I’m living in sings to me as I arrange this post…
#poetry
The Bluesky post creation page with a poem that’s too long to be posted typed out the poem reads but have you considered I’m loving myself the same way? I push so hard I have no option but to break open the subtle repetition of surrender follows intuition to submission desire for immediate action once fostered by scarce perspective tempers to the flow of presence and I learned to love the exploration once again… I’m with everyone for 10 minutes at least plays on the radio as I write this all text after having written the poem featured on the dot rule notebook paper inside a notebook stitch together with yellow embroidery thread green fountain pen writing scrabbled across the top of the page sitting on my knee feet up on the edge of my patio swing shaded green trees in the background the poem reads but have you considered I’m loving myself the same way? I push so hard I have no option but to break open the subtle repetition of surrender follows intuition to submission desire for immediate action once fostered by scarce perspective tempers to the flow of presence and I learned to love the exploration once again…
July 8, 2026 at 8:53 PM
nutmegpie.bsky.social
The pieces moon was directly over my house today…
#poetry
A screenshot of the Bluesky post UI with a poem written out that is too many characters the poem reads I never know when my just enough meets overflowing the imposition seems to lend itself toward recognition though what you'd find is the mirror turned back on herself gazing inward And the hall of twisted reflections isn't such a fun house she just learned to reflect it outward to keep the labyrinth mine The author of this post and the poem sits on her patio smoking he marijuana cigarette coloring in a heart at the bottom of the handwritten poem scrawled across the notebook sitting in her lap green her lime green nail polish chipping off her nails holding a clear acrylic fountain pen writing in green ink … Poem reads I never know when my just enough meets overflowing the imposition seems to lend itself toward recognition though what you'd find is the mirror turned back on herself gazing inward And the hall of twisted reflections isn't such a fun house she just learned to reflect it outward to keep the labyrinth mine The author of this post and calm sit in her swing chair face half hidden behind a paper umbrella covered in red flowers hiding from the sun wearing a white dress dress akin to Victorian psychiatric patient as an intentional style choice with shoulder length curly brown hair and short bangs squinting at the sun when arm reached towards the camera to take the selfie Covered in a Japanese style black more fish tattoo the other arm peacock feathers and henna colored Menhdi A cloud dragon Scottish Fold cat named Nimbus since in front of a fence covered in moon and star dangling lights on a blue leopard print rug in front of a yard full of trees looking up at the distance being cute. Very cat like.
July 6, 2026 at 3:25 AM
nutmegpie.bsky.social
I wrote this back on June 18 and I wasn’t happy with it then left space to come back and change it tonight’s editing started with realizing leaving behind and letting go are not the same…
#poetry
Screenshot of the poetry being referred to typed out in the Bluesky post box because it has too many characters… The poem reads I have loved so much without the capacity to care for it. no not just people places and things dreams desires and decisions too And when they kept slipping through my fingers as i grasped too tight while talking about leaving behind I had to sit in the rubble of my destruction to find what couldn't let go all of it still swirling beneath a placid mirror surface a choice to dive deeper through the current or drown find the capsize rebel treasure time buried long ago desperate to breathe the air I found at the bottom of the sea... A dot grid notebook page with Marigold ink hand writing scratched out by green in editing to revisit the poem The writers hand resting on the page holding the clear acrylic fountain pen used in the writing The poem reads Cancel Drafts Post I have loved so much without the capacity to care for it. no not just people places and things dreams desires and decisions too And when they kept slipping through my fingers as i grasped too tight while talking about leaving behind I had to sit in the rubble of my destruction to find what couldn't let go all of it still swirling beneath a placid mirror surface a choice to dive deeper through the current or drown find the capsize rebel treasure time buried long ago desperate to breathe the air I found at the bottom of the sea... Nimbus gray tabby Scottish Fold sits on the notebook the poetry is trying to be written on prior to getting a chance.
July 4, 2026 at 3:08 AM
nutmegpie.bsky.social
If we’re not willing to risk everything for the shared vision what’s the point?
altnps.bsky.social Alt National Park Service @altnps.bsky.social · Jul 1
Two people have climbed to the top of the Empire State Building antenna. They are holding a banner that reads: “When the power of love beats the love of power, the world knows peace”
July 1, 2026 at 8:23 PM
nutmegpie.bsky.social
I’m always grieving the things I love the most because I love them... they will always have both everything to give as well as everything to take.
A screenshot of Bluesky post creation with a poem written that’s too many characters. The poem reads Possibility... what a generously thieving concept always more, always asking... never satisfied with itself grasping climbing clawing finding each one realized destroys every other loss of the capacity results from the fulfillment of its own promise & the choice in love the grief of having every damn possibility... could you possibly love it with me? The notebook page the post is based on green scribbled fountain pen writing on Dot grid notebook page clear cap fountain pen laying beneath it the poem reads Possibility... what a generously thieving concept always more, always asking... never satisfied with itself grasping climbing clawing finding each one realized destroys every other loss of the capacity results from the fulfillment of its own promise & the choice in love the grief of having every damn possibility... could you possibly love it with me?
June 30, 2026 at 9:31 PM
nutmegpie.bsky.social
The only love I’ve ever known has come from the desire to neglect to the parts of self that actually need love..

Owned by needing permission to exist by the love you require with no consent to value your own desire.
June 28, 2026 at 4:03 PM
nutmegpie.bsky.social
Nobody loves me everybody hates me think I’ll eat some worms….

I’m sick of people competing. Why are you trying to compete with me? Why do you assume I’m competing with you? You project you project you project you project you can’t hear a word I say why do I keep trying to explain?
June 27, 2026 at 5:35 PM
nutmegpie.bsky.social
Tolerable? Who’s she?
I don’t know her, though you seem to.
She’s the one you met while you shrunk her capacity to shine down to bite-size pieces.
She’s the one you expect to show up showering you with praise for gifts she bestows.
So… no, I don’t know her.
we’ve never met.
(Cont⬇️) #poetry
A notebook page covered in scribble fountain pen writing drafting poetry of self discovery and declaration the writers hand holding the page with green nail polish and tattoos that need touchups.. The focused poem reads “Tolerable? Who’s she? I don’t know her, though you seem to. She’s the one you met while you shrunk her capacity to shine down to bite-size pieces. She’s the one you expect to show up showering you with praise for gifts she bestows. So… no, I don’t know her. we’ve never met. she’s the impulse inside that grew despite being intolerable for herself.”
June 26, 2026 at 12:23 AM
nutmegpie.bsky.social
I’ve walked 1000 miles back to myself 10,000 corrections to my direction walked me round in circles
to find an exit
a single leap landed me in love I can feel but not touch and I dreamed it all before it happened…
I know who you are because I found myself within you and without you… (cont…⬇️) #poetry
A gray Scottish Fold cat named Nimbus lies curled beside an open journal. The page contains a handwritten poem in maroon ink dated June 8, with crossed-out words and corrections visible throughout. Below the poem are two pencil sketches of a kitty bio contamination containment unit idea drawn in 2023 and below the sketches is the last line of the letter closest to the camera “when you do I’ll be there glowing” The poem reads “I’ve walked a thousand miles back to myself. 10 thousand corrections to my direction walked me round in circles to find an exit while a single leap landed me in love I can feel but not touch. and I dreamed it all before it happened. I know who you are because I found myself within and without you. Can you find your way home? When you do I’ll be there glowing.” The same gray Scottish Fold cat named Nimbus lies on his side now completely overtaking the journal pages with his front paw reaching towards the writers tattooed leg handwriting visible on the pages peeking out from the edges. The cat’s expression is soft and half-lidded, as though he fell asleep snuggling the words.
June 25, 2026 at 1:12 AM
nutmegpie.bsky.social
Poetry is not working today I know there’s something there and it keeps having too many stupid words so I sketched the idea I’ve had for a death dress (wear in event of nuclear event) since forever… many details still missing just like the poetry happy solstice…
A notebook page with scribble handwriting all over it revised many times and an ink color change halfway through poetry that just doesn’t seem to want to come out… trying to explore themes of overwhelmed and carrying things you can’t do anything about… Sloppy pencil sketch of a baroque style architectural dress with windows built into it to eventually have many different scenes about the wars experience of life underneath as you pee through each of them…
June 22, 2026 at 3:05 AM
nutmegpie.bsky.social
I wish I may I wish I might
wish all the wishes that I like
wish one wish two wish three & four…
there will always be room for more
open up wide, here it comes!
all the wishing wishes can find.

#poetry
A scribbled on notebook page covered in different colored fountain pen writing. With one poem featured prominently in the image. The writing featured reads I wish I may I wish I might wish all the wishes that I like wish one wish two wish three & four… there will always be room for more open up wide, here it comes! all the wishing wishes can find.
June 19, 2026 at 3:46 PM