P. Stern
P. is 20 years old.
She is the Turntable Artist of crossroad blues.
P. is located in Johannesburg at Che-ribi-bong-skeng.
P. likes to rest during off hours and is trying to improve skill in order to get ahead professionally.
Modern life is so thin and shallow and fake.
I look forward to when wild grasses take over.
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Passionate |
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| Game: Popmundo |
| Points: 590 |
| Days Active: 113 days |
Latest Blog Post
Memories of Isla de Espejos ; finding Ithaka.
Insomnia, release me;
There was a time when my dreams hostage. Mirrors multiplied themselves, whispering versions of me I had never met. A puppeteer made of sleepless hours, pulling at my nerves like harp strings until my bones rang with a music only ghosts could dance to. A companion I never summoned, a shadow tutor whispering the geometry of deceit, the cold arithmetic of disappointment. Modern life.
Let me dream about;
Green…
Not a person, not a promise, a wild beat of mine.
A ripple in the dark. A warm breath at the back of my neck
when the world had forgotten how to exhale.
Grass did not arrive. It grew. Rooting itself through the cracks in my mind, a softness that dared to exist in a place where softness wasn’t supposed to survive.
In the mornings of wandering, my spirit lay on it like fever on silk. Its laughter wasn’t human. It was chlorophyll intoxicated by sunlight after a storm, wild and terrifyingly alive.
Yet even in this warmness, I sometimes found myself haunted. The knowledge that life is stitched with shadows. Felt like a cosmic joke told too close to my ear.
A revelation cracked open in me;
I was Ithaka. Not waiting but watching, ancient and patient. Every traveler thinks they understand me until they arrive
and then realize the map was written in a language they never learned to speak. Cavafy’s truth burns itself into bone. The monsters do not exist outside the soul unless we pack them in our luggage. Grass refused them. Walked beside me without claiming anything, a rare creature in a world drunk on possession.
Creaking noises make my skin creep;
But I listen.
Knowing too much is a kind of vertigo.
Those who reach Ithaka must arrive carrying their own light,
own map, own truth.
like a nomad
Ithaka falls into sleep like a stone returning to the earth…
Posted 12/3/2025, 9:00 PM
All characters in Popmundo are fictitious. Any similarity to any person living or dead is merely coincidental.
Prominent Clothes & Tattoos
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Left wrist
in girum imus nocte
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Head
🐦⬛
Note: Tattoos might be covered by clothing.