Programmed by Mimi

Anything, Anywhere

[programmimi]

[programmimi]

[sveski]

It takes a lot of nerve, living on planet Earth

[programmimi]

Sunday Scaries Spa

[programmimi]

[programmimi]

[programmimi]

[programmimi]

The seagulls here are the same as at home, and sometimes my only responsibility is to breathe

[programmimi]

Apparently this hill was haunted by an infant, who would mess with you unless you thanked it

[lazyydaisyyy]

Garth Greenwell, Small Rain

[programmimi]

Saturday Evening, March 28th, '26

There’s an idea in physics - and I will oversimplify this to an extreme because I have close to no knowledge of physics - where the information that seemingly “disappears” into a black hole, at the event horizon, where it looks like time is frozen, doesn’t actually vanish, but instead disintegrates until it is unrecognizable. What once was is still around, just in splinters, and scattered across the universe. This is just one of the theories regarding what happens to matter that rolls into black holes, but it’s one that I personally enjoy. While everything speeds towards entropy, nothing is ever truly gone. It makes me wonder where our thoughts go; our experiences; our memories. Are they hovering around somewhere too? What about that one love that never worked out? Is it still around, just in bits and pieces we’ll never be able to piece together? Do the different fragments, at any age, form back into anything new? In an infinite universe, is there a chance that each ‘almost’, somewhere, managed to eventually happen, to become something?

[programmimi]

it’s because i start every sentence with i

[programmimi]

took myself out for lunch (vegan avocado bagel and an oat milk chai latte), bought two dresses and hair products, made coleslaw salad with salmon for dinner watched the worst person in the world

[programmimi]

Nothing here to care about…….. What’s that sound?

[programmimi]

[programmimi]

[programmimi]

Saturday Evening, February 28th, '26

Sitting at the edge of my bed, with something unsaid on the roof of my mouth, and something unheard in the corner of my ear