“Lost in a Dream” by by Ojima Abalaka

“Lost in a Dream” by by Ojima Abalaka

Write Sketch Blog

Lost in a Dream is a surreal depiction of bliss found in sleep.

Sleep Lost in a Dream

In many ways, it is a representation of what my real life is not. Inspired by music, nature, food and bright colours, it features 5 mini versions of me against a pink background.

Candy Just Give Me Some Candy

Just Give Me Some Candy was inspired by a long summer I spent with Paolo Nutini’s Candy on repeat. With the lyrics, ‘just give me some candy’ stuck in head, I decided to give it my own interpretation.

Nature-Bath Nature Bath

Nature Bath is a personal favourite, born out of my love for plants and my inability to care for them. One dead Aloe Vera plant and a dying cactus later, the only place I have been able to successfully co-exist and thrive with plants is in this drawing.

Watermelon Watermelon

Watermelon is ironic because I hate…

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#Thurds “Zawmb’yee dear…I will kiss your tune lips, because anything goes when I’m slinking down your keyboard, tickling doleful note doodles, plinking your chords…”

#Thurds “Zawmb’yee dear…I will kiss your tune lips, because anything goes when I’m slinking down your keyboard, tickling doleful note doodles, plinking your chords…”

The Blog That Would Destroy the World

[DROWNING IN THE SEALED CHAMBER for #Thurds,’because’] I don’t know why Zawmb’yee thought it would be a good idea to break into the without permission. Doug describes how he met her there. She thought she had learned everything she needed to know to enter without supervision. Doug:

Trapping Oral History


It was really weird early today when I got a phone call from Zawmb’yee. I mean, I see her in the cave all the time and I didn’t think she even uses a phone. She would seem to pop out of nowhere whenever I wrote at the Nipeiskwari. I guess I’ve always thought of her as a cave person even though Utcoozhoo makes her mingle in the up-top world quite often — it’s just that I’ve never seen her there. But I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised because she can pass quite well as an ordinary, run-of-the-mill, common…

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Doug Is Looking for Love In The Concrete Jungle

The Blog That Would Destroy the World

Oh my gosh, it is not “mere superstition”. We have a tradition of esoteric sophistication and power given to us by the Gods. And I can attest to their powers. Poor, poor, fellow: he has an infatuation with Chlöe


Secret of the Gods

Y’know, despite their claimed sophistication, some of the Ojdispekib don’t want to scientifically examine some of our traditions. They think it is mere superstition and would embarrass them if held up to scrutiny. Utcoozhoo, especially, knows that the late-period migrants to the up-top world are ashamed of our traditions and secrets. So these are not as modern as they think they are — not open minded, not willing to examine all possibilities in an objective way… But I’m annoyed that Utcoozhoo allows their ridicule and doesn’t debate with them, and will not reveal the secret of the Gods that would astound them. They in their…

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Some people encouraged Doug to begin the destruction of the world

The Blog That Would Destroy the World

I am Naztko, and I worry.

I had seen that Utcoozhoo had encouraged Doug to write a blog, but even he saw that it would lead to disaster and so Doug began this way:

Some would prefer to say poetry will end the world, but no rhyme will stick to the face of time. Lachrymal vicissitudes, slipping on plates of passion, are insufficient to generate terminal earthquakes.

No, it is this blog that will end life on the surface of the Earth with a recipe for pizza and virginity. No, it is not the High Priestess alone who will do it. Many creatures do play their part to stage a farce, leaping in multiplicity, dark in mind.

True, every seminal blog in the universe begins as a joke. Few end with dessert.

I had heard I should do something bloggy on the Internet if I were going to fit into…

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To the end of the world together in hand
we need to brew the brouhaha,
the brouhaha, the brouhaha;
ha, ha, ha, so

we need to brew with sweat a bet
a crumpet, a strumpet, a puppet
and then

the trumpets will
bring down the walls of Jericho.

Doug said, “Hold my hand and we’ll go to the end of the world together…” He broke into song. “We need to brew the brouhaha, the brouhaha, the brouhaha; we need to brew the crumpets, the strumpets, the puppets and the trumpets will bring down the walls of Jericho.”


Oh in former times it would have been glory to wake my friends after minor news. We’d walk in the park, but not this Summer now, because there’s ten feet of snow around the building, twenty feet in the park. There it used to reach 86°F (30°C), but even if it were clear, we dare not be seen. Here it’s just cool enough for snow but in London it’s 40° below zero.

When there was a lull in the noise, I knocked on the bedroom door.

I heard a chorus: “Is this important?”

“Yes,” I said.

Doug said in sotto voce, “Zawmb’yee get dressed.”

Zawmb’yee yelled, “Just a second…”

“OK,” I said.

I went back to the living room to wait. Zawmb’yee and Doug came giggling into the room after twenty minutes. I suppose I should have had less calm and dignity in my voice and should have used a…

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Vicarious Dog

Vicarious Dog

Vicarious Dogs wait for the day to break…

based on photos by @bethanylynn1210

Vicarious Dog

She likes to bark
to have long walks
in larking parks, but

not so keen about
walking in tornadoes

so she stays with me
and watches TV until
the birds chirp their
approval for the day

— Douglas Gilbert