091 - Delivered in the spirit of placing my vulnerability on the front line, I take a supposedly light stroll past the three things I discovered about myself as a self-publishing writer. Not mentioned here are my plans for the new year, my double-down commitment to craft, to reading, and being more attentive to the delicate souls scratching words on paper, like me, who isn't me. Learning to hear from those who isn't me. This is Atom Alicia C, speaking to you from under a blanket. 

090 - Three pieces pending publication in an upcoming anthology on Hong Kong poets writing in English. I read them here, on a day I haven't got too much to say, not when the traffic is building towards the most xxx time of the year. As merry as I can be. Pen in hand. Contemplating my open-air corridor. Bliss. 

089 - A few drafts scribbled on a Friday late afternoon at Cafe Golden in the hours before it closed for the day. I took up a table next to the owner who was resting. 'I haven't seen you in a while,' she said. Being recognized... kinda threw me off, espcially when I was just dragging myself out of the imaginary cave. As for this episode, I'm only reading my own stuff. Keeping it simple, for now. This is Atom Alicia C. 

088 - Started from a photo of my shadow posing on the sand, the taker being me standing on the beach in a place called Momochi. More thoughts swirled as a song drifted into my head, how heaven is more than where the sky meets the shore, how it could be just around the corner, or in that corner over there, the one you didn't know existed. The voice behind the song is holding concerts in a place not far from where I am. All this, as I roll into the thickest part of November. Three frames and a bit of a song this time. This is Atom Alicia C. Sometimes I post here. The website is about to come back. So there.

087 - I'm not good at gatherings. I started up the slope then straight along the flat pavement with clusters of bright yellow leaves on either side of me. Would I mind people reading me? Would I mind even more if they were to read that younger self of mine? This is Atom Alicia C, reminiscing the sounds from a lost cassette. Bliss. I post on IG occasionally, though I'd rather we meet analogue. 

086 - Vacant mall. Beds on display. Not sure where the pond comes from. This is my drawing board, my playground, a detour through the early-morning psychosis with a pen in hand. This is Atom Alicia C, contemplating the layers of distances draped over our bodies. 

082 - A slowed-down intro with patches of green and purple out of nowhere. NFTs are hard to digest, even when I'm the only one in the gallery. I just have to believe you when you say you'd come and stay awhile. Plastic sheets. Revolving doors. Where do they come from? I've long been told to show and not tell. The truth is I don't want to sell. Not in the traditional sense, at least. I want to show. Show first, at least. Then you can decide, and so can I. I'm Atom Alicia C and I think I'll stop here. For now. Stay for a bit, if you're here already.