Ida
@private-ida.bsky.social
Frames of mind. Somewhere in between days & dreams, light & shadow, awe & wonder. Weather-sensitive. Pedestrian.
The Days of Frozen Fog.
November 28, 2025 at 7:00 PM
The Days of Frozen Fog.
In dreams the empire of my subconscious struck back again. I was the owner of an indoor pool. In real life I have worked off possessive thinking for reasons long since but it felt good to swim my laps completely undisturbed.
November 22, 2025 at 8:38 AM
In dreams the empire of my subconscious struck back again. I was the owner of an indoor pool. In real life I have worked off possessive thinking for reasons long since but it felt good to swim my laps completely undisturbed.
The river was the colour of cold blue ice today. In the park, a duck convoy crossed my path to search for something to eat in the rustling leaf covered grass, eagerly. After great relief a certain lightness is spreading.
November 19, 2025 at 8:09 PM
The river was the colour of cold blue ice today. In the park, a duck convoy crossed my path to search for something to eat in the rustling leaf covered grass, eagerly. After great relief a certain lightness is spreading.
Reposted by Ida
Reposted by Ida
In the 7th chapter of Pinocchio Geppetto returns home & gives his own breakfast that ought to consist of 3 pears to Pinocchio. Geppetto has to peel them before Pinocchio agrees to eat. Still hungry he ends up devouring the cores & even the skins. The pear seems to be the true fruit of knowledge.
November 15, 2025 at 10:40 PM
In the 7th chapter of Pinocchio Geppetto returns home & gives his own breakfast that ought to consist of 3 pears to Pinocchio. Geppetto has to peel them before Pinocchio agrees to eat. Still hungry he ends up devouring the cores & even the skins. The pear seems to be the true fruit of knowledge.
Reposted by Ida
poire & poivre.
November 15, 2025 at 1:08 PM
poire & poivre.
In dreams I am in that entrance area again - of the university library or a tourist attraction overseas - and the actor whose name I neither know nor in which film I saw him passes me once more. There must be a DJane in my subconscious who keeps playing her favourite remixes over and over again.
November 13, 2025 at 7:59 PM
In dreams I am in that entrance area again - of the university library or a tourist attraction overseas - and the actor whose name I neither know nor in which film I saw him passes me once more. There must be a DJane in my subconscious who keeps playing her favourite remixes over and over again.
Couldn't get last night's dream out of my head all day long. I stayed at a hotel by the sea and wanted to go to the beach but I was held by the bustle around a pit swarming with fluffy young fowl, geese, ducks, etc., all gaggling at once. They were cute but I didn't make it to the beach.
November 11, 2025 at 7:44 PM
Couldn't get last night's dream out of my head all day long. I stayed at a hotel by the sea and wanted to go to the beach but I was held by the bustle around a pit swarming with fluffy young fowl, geese, ducks, etc., all gaggling at once. They were cute but I didn't make it to the beach.
Dear old diary, it's that time of the year again when days refuse to lighten up.
November 8, 2025 at 10:46 AM
Dear old diary, it's that time of the year again when days refuse to lighten up.
Neurosis? What neurosis?
November 6, 2025 at 9:15 PM
Neurosis? What neurosis?
Picked up my flu shot. When I was jabbed I didn't feel a thing & left the surgery wondering whether the serum had actually entered my body. Disinfectant had run down my arm, perhaps vaccine, too? Meanwhile injection site & chills are signalling all-clear. Compliments to the aspiring practice nurse.
November 6, 2025 at 7:34 PM
Picked up my flu shot. When I was jabbed I didn't feel a thing & left the surgery wondering whether the serum had actually entered my body. Disinfectant had run down my arm, perhaps vaccine, too? Meanwhile injection site & chills are signalling all-clear. Compliments to the aspiring practice nurse.
Foggy morning, the fine-pored moisture wafts through the open windows and wraps everything up in the complete and utter November aura. Like ghosts that are here to stay for the time being. Willkommen, bienvenue, welcome. Make yourselves comfortable.
November 6, 2025 at 9:45 AM
Foggy morning, the fine-pored moisture wafts through the open windows and wraps everything up in the complete and utter November aura. Like ghosts that are here to stay for the time being. Willkommen, bienvenue, welcome. Make yourselves comfortable.
Love in Moonlight
by Louise Glück
by Louise Glück
November 5, 2025 at 9:49 PM
Love in Moonlight
by Louise Glück
by Louise Glück
At the dentist today because the cusp of a molar broke off while I was eating a slice of bread and butter with blackcurrant jam. One of the pits in the currants was the culprit. You couldn't make it up.
November 4, 2025 at 7:52 PM
At the dentist today because the cusp of a molar broke off while I was eating a slice of bread and butter with blackcurrant jam. One of the pits in the currants was the culprit. You couldn't make it up.
Reposted by Ida
Rosa Chacel, from a diary entry featured in Diario, originally published in 1993
November 4, 2025 at 4:08 PM
Rosa Chacel, from a diary entry featured in Diario, originally published in 1993
November still playing the claviature of October.
November 3, 2025 at 6:15 PM
November still playing the claviature of October.
November morning, dreamy like moonstone. Sunlight powders the world to which the baring branches bow like a curved typeface.
November 1, 2025 at 8:18 AM
November morning, dreamy like moonstone. Sunlight powders the world to which the baring branches bow like a curved typeface.
Reposted by Ida
Dry leaves in sand.
October 30, 2025 at 1:57 AM
Dry leaves in sand.
In dreams I met a long since deceased person & we danced the fandango. Beyond that, I wish I could have talked to them but encounters of that kind always remain silent. However, the fascinating thing is that they look grown old appropriately as if there was an age filter at work in the subconscious.
October 31, 2025 at 9:40 AM
In dreams I met a long since deceased person & we danced the fandango. Beyond that, I wish I could have talked to them but encounters of that kind always remain silent. However, the fascinating thing is that they look grown old appropriately as if there was an age filter at work in the subconscious.