Cooking in My Pajamas
This playlist tastes like 5am mornings or 9pm nights by your lonesome, dancing in your pajamas as eggs burn in the skillet.
Home
Buzzing with late afternoon life & soft French jazz.
Welcome
Find coffee stained pages of tearful confessions, unsatisified revelations, and trembling breaths of honey coated lies.
“Outside, the clouds were breaking into strips of bruised pink. The sun, too tired to shine, glowed faintly beneath them.”
About
Outside, the light shifted. Shadows stretched. Time moved like water over stone.
Bio
My name is Olivia, I am a fiction writer and mezzo soprano who wishes to become an author and an opera singer. I am a daughter of flower meanings, tattered books, and foggy rain.
I want long autumns, overgrown greenery, london fogs, vinyls, journals of dried flowers, paint on my fingers, leaves in my hair, and romance on the tip of my tongue.
Quick Facts
Pronouns: she/her
Genres: poetry, romance, fantasy, dystopian, nonfiction
Current projects: The Dining Room Table: A Novella, Unlearning the Lie of Love: A Memoir
Based in: Brandon, Mississippi
Works
Warmth met her in waves–dust and old pages and something sweet she couldn’t name.
The Dining Room Table
The Dining Room Table is a literary fiction novella about two former lovers who reconnect years after an intense adolescent relationship shaped their identities. As they cross paths in their hometown, unresolved emotions and unanswered questions force both characters to confront the lasting impact of first love on their adult lives and current relationships. The story examines memory, emotional dependency, and the tension between who they were and who they are trying to become.
Unlearning the Lie of Love
This memoir follows the author’s experience in a coercive, co-dependent relationship that included emotional manipulation, sexual assault, and a steady decline in mental health. As isolation and toxic friendships compound untreated depression and anxiety, she reaches a breaking point that leads to in-patient hospitalization. The narrative then turns toward recovery—learning coping skills, rebuilding self-trust, forming healthier relationships, and discovering what safe love looks like. Honest and unsentimental, the book portrays healing not as a clean transformation, but as a gradual process of reclaiming autonomy and choosing oneself again.
Beneath the Signal
In a future dominated by the Veil, a system that replaces physical life with constant streaming and curated connection, Atlas is a global icon whose every moment is broadcast and optimized. During a major gala, a brief glitch cuts through the Veil’s control, giving him his first unfiltered experience of reality and igniting a personal awakening. He secretly traces the anomaly to Sector 9, a forgotten, Veil-free underground archive, and abandons his public life to reach it. In this silent, physical space filled with old music, books, and imperfect mirrors, Atlas confronts the emptiness of his performed existence and discovers the quiet relief of being unseen, unmeasured, and simply human.
Requiem of Untainted Love
After being in a co-dependent relationship for two years, I start college with slow-healing wounds and new rose-tinted glasses slipping over my eyes.
Featured Poems
• “Sun Haven and Warframe”
• “My Sweet Martyr”
• “Five Hours of Sleep”
Collection: Media through the Eyes of a Literary Analysist
A series of essays being analyzed through the eyes of a Literary Analysist who prides gut-wrenching storytelling and picking apart the threads of media I love.
Selected Essays
• “The Beatles as an Aesthetic”
• “Death of Self in a Spider-Man Film”
• “The Hawk vs. the Shrew”
Playlists
Soundtracks for dancing in the kitchen with a wine bottle in hand.
Sad Pop Girl Music to Dance to While Depressed
This playlist tastes like trying not to cry as your life falls apart before your eyes.
Haunting Instrumentals to Write to
This playlist tastes like poetry you wish you could reach but always fall short of.
Sapphic Poetry for Lesbian Girlies
This playlist tastes like hidden hand holding, silent tears, & a world that tears love apart.
Contact
There, barely visible between two oversized atlases, a pressed flower-old, crumbling, forgotten-tucked into the seam.