Dominique Joyce
“Here lies the remains of someone who tried.”
There are papers and photographs with some scribbles on them. They’re about some explorations and experiments that happened on the physical plane and some other places.
There’s always a wet painting lying somewhere. It’s probably visible through any of the windows one chooses to look from. One perspective may not have anything in common with the other, or the other, or the other, but it’s just one picture.
There’s probably no one inside as of the moment.
The door is closed but most of the windows are open.
It’s best if we could help keep it that way, you know, for both of our own safety and for the sake of the other living creatures as well.
You can help yourself with the fruits that you may find in the garden. A lot of them are still attached to the trees so you might have to stretch your arms a bit.
Be careful with the ones that aren’t ripe yet. They might be very bitter…or sour, maybe.
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🪟🛸: [email protected]
are you also looking for me?
The Soul summons The Colors when The Words start to retreat.
La Tentación
24th of November, 2025
mother, what do stars do when they’re not shining?
Amber’s - Dreamer by Laufey
The Charade inside The Belly of The Giant, Orange Worm
the walls and the high notes
playing with Baby by Justin Bieber
The Magic Bread and The Strange, Human Face
The Ghosts of The Good Gentlemen
hip pain.
One must imagine Sisyphus letting go of the boulder at some point.
have you ever met a human whose mere presence made the tectonic plates of your existence waltz?
dear friend on the other side of the universe, hello.
dancing fireflies on a dreaming sea
an answer to “What will happen to you when we die? Who’s gonna look after you?”
a reality show by an intoxicated bird
a golden friendship
have you ever tried watching a movie without munching on something?
Introversion, Extroversion, and The Pace of Conversations
how does your mind process time? do you operate in “weeks” ?
one summer afternoon
flowers and fruits…it’s all flowers and fruits.
swansicles and their babiesicles
a perspective on the concept of The Air of Mystery
a fool’s attempt in liking being alive
wooden flowers, chlorophyll chimes
findings from the ongoing experiment of living each day as if it was a symphony, chapter II