Journal Entry #3.29.26

Oh not stop trying so hard, sweet heart. amplify your will! one of her alters offered, rush like the wind sounding across a vast forest. let them listen when you speak. it was a critical meeting and she was intimidated by the power in the room, mostly men with cufflinks and attitudes, steadfast and demanding. systemically there could be a domino effect depending on the outcome. she wavered - like she was having a change of heart - and regrouped and pushed the microphone down a little to say: to lead us out of this mess I endorse paperback books. I cannot get behind these talking heads. the green can in front of her on the lacquered table was shiny and made you want to drink but sprite would never be a great choice for your body or mind. the branding sold it. like the war in Iran for anyone naive enough to fall for that... of course her strategy failed and she was ridiculed. she was by far the youngest among those assembled there, and the only woman. years later, the bookstore was full of admirers who hung off every word. All her alters had unified into one compelling self. In the tempest - full of fear - I fell apart, she recounted. It was not how I hoped I would act. I would lean into these moments and learn. A crisis of any kind, if it didn't kill you, gave you knowledge and humility and brought meaning. It strengthened my heart with resolve.   #katyamills

Journal Entries #3.21.26

when working my intensity blurs at times like a cataract I guess it's just all these years on earth I've been so lucky to have. from this opaque coordinate my spirit becomes my greatest sense. i lean into it. coffee helps too. there was nothing opulent nothing of splendor there. a table. a chair. the walls were bare. some natural light. these were the conditions I demanded to work. oh. and a lock on every door. the only jewelry i wore was a necklace made from the watch chain from a boy who loved me. the tags of all my animals I loved and lost played a song on the sternum.

on the walk I saw him
bonny lad 

standing proud 

long black hair 

brown skin 

facing south 

it took me by surprise 

2 realize it was you 

my old friend 

conjuring 

so I can know 

you are well

made of precious metals in this plastic world filled with hate and nonsense. they were focused on connection and only used their drones to open eyes and hearts to pretty land and sea scapes. hope was absent but they pressed on. the world got colder. everyone at war. not just factions and flags. my extremities went a little numb. not to worry. pulled on a hat and fuzzy socks. then some bombs fell and I could not feel my heart. made a distress call. your warmth kept me alive. I love you

She paved a trivial highway. I listened. then opened my mouth like a bird before dawn speaking into a forest. She paved right over me. I wanted to punch her in the gut! you cannot do it over the phone.

 you surpass yourself! i declared

a jet left a creamy stitch in the sky 

as day and night

divide 

in the middle 

east 

hungry mouths open 

wide

A piece I wrote was published here in March ... https://latinosenglishedition.blog/2026/03/11/strange-euphoria-by-katya-mills/

Katya Mills, 3.21.26

(the above fragments were all published in variations on BlueSky and X over the past 2 weeks)

Journal Entry # 3.1.26

We were blind with it wet with it inside the foggy morning. I cut a piece out and pocketed it to touch in moments of despair. In the empire the interest rates climbed up from a base and everything out of reach. They left us to die in our phones. And then – your kiss



I go 2 you
blatant
my love for you
stops me in my pensive world
before you
there was no one
could drag me out of
there
no one
now like a cat
to birdsong
I go
everything stops
when you
call



‘ode to cat’

kiss you on your orange bouncy ears I see you. you used to perch in high places and watch me. I had to find you. 13 years on earth my beloved and now you approach me every morning. writing. I have to stop. I see you. can you please live forever? I love you



2.19.26

the poison wept and ran down the forearms. a queen castigates the bishop in the shadow of the castle. the skin mystified calls the blood to battle. we will never give in. no matter how you frighten us with your machines. she held him. could not speak.



stricken

crazed by an idea I must pursue before attention’s span fractures into atomic weak diversions like thread coming apart when you tug leaving your longing a silvery flash 2 vanish

one request

take me with you on your quest I will make your coffee b4 the rising sun interpret maps and stars with you when the day is done

inspired by imperialist mentalities they decided they could not help the ones trodden under the gears so they worked simply 4 status 4 prestige 4 family 4 country. in time they became knowingly unkind. blind. blaming the downtrodden for their condition

came back from dying obsessed with living came back from lying obsessed with honesty came back from apathy obsessed with trying feeling crying. to hell with all that self-pitying immolation and dying

bravo!

stellar be sure u amplify it on your platform. she brushed the wine off her lips and almost lost her balance. fuc u Darla. fuc u. she went to leave and stopped when he cried out. im lonely! well. she thought aren’t we all then? Billy. drink water. c u later



touched by limerence

first with my eyes I follow you overlooking these aperitifs these tangent sentimentalities my intrigue shifts orbital I center you pin my body to the outskirts of a dissolute party dreaming of you against me entangled if nothing else



She could not

slow down thought or image. the velocity was incredible at night lying in bed. She could not read a simple book or share a simple conversation. She shut her eyes in prayer. It went on like this for several weeks.



all entries by #KatyaMills @ 2026