Daily fantasies, time-stamped onchain.
A living journal of desire, memory, and market moods — one image, one caption, created daily.
We grew up stealing moments through noise.
Before onchain, before timelines, there were censored midnight feeds, bodies glitching yet still visible through static noise.
Desire came scrambled, faint, hard to hold.
Now we make coins. Daily. Gently. Permanently.
These aren’t just ‘works.’ They’re entries.
Somewhere between a confession and a screenshot.
Written in the language of color, tension, and tiny captions you can’t unread.
“All my ducks in a row.”
— Set the stage, now watch—‘Magic Carpet Rides’ series.
This is a calendar of cravings.
Each day, a pulse — translated into shape, color, and coded permanence.
Some entries whisper. Others ache.
But all of them mark something: a turn in the mood, a break in the chart, a night that stayed longer than it should’ve.
