To follow and support my work,
please consider subscribing.

Subscribe FREE or paid

The Label

Hush Halo · Poetry by Sam Oldman

Though they told me so,
their label didn’t save me.
It didn’t carry me to shore.

It was never meant to.

It only kept me floating
long enough
to learn how to swim.

You can try
to push and pry.

But eventually,
I reach the shore.

On my own,
cleared of your labels,
I find my terms intact,
buried in the sand,
right where I left them.

©2026 Sam Oldman

I’m Sam. A mother of two,
a neurohappy writer with a shade
of inbuilt melancholy.

POETRY · START HERE · BUY BOOKS · SHOP · LINKS

Hush Halo is my indie art project.
Please support if you can.

Subscribe now FREE or paid

Coffee instead? ☕

🖤 Own your glitch! Share your thoughts ↓

Subscribe FREE or paid

To follow and support my work,
please consider subscribing.

Unscaling Devotion

Hush Halo · Poetry by Sam Oldman

The system runs the numbers.

Efficiency outdates history.

Scalability outweighs attachment.

Risk models ignore fidelity.

Loyalty was never violated,
but bypassed
as an unnecessary variable.

A different logic—
one that assumed
humans counted
just because they were there.

The imbalance sharpens—
the kind that removes nostalgia
from my body,
forcing me to face the facts.

My loyalty was measurable—
yet not enough
to survive the equation.

Devotion doesn’t scale.

©2026 Sam Oldman

I’m Sam. A mother of two,
a neurohappy writer with a shade
of inbuilt melancholy.

POETRY · START HERE · BUY BOOKS · SHOP · LINKS

Hush Halo is my indie art project.
Please support if you can.

Subscribe now FREE or paid

Coffee instead? ☕

🖤 Own your glitch! Share your thoughts ↓

To follow and support my work,
please consider subscribing.

Subscribe FREE or paid

Assigned Weight

Hush Halo · Poetry by Sam Oldman

You let my loyalty deepen
until it carried weight,
allowing it to grow into a burden—
an unshareable cargo
assigned to me,
and me alone.

Then you shifted the frame.

My staying
became the baseline.

My commitment
became expected.

My care
became an endless opportunity.

I get it.

Now
I could always
be asked
to endure
more.

©2026 Sam Oldman

I’m Sam. A mother of two,
a neurohappy writer with a shade
of inbuilt melancholy.

POETRY · START HERE · BUY BOOKS · SHOP · LINKS

Hush Halo is my indie art project.
Please support if you can.

Subscribe now FREE or paid

Coffee instead? ☕

🖤 Own your glitch! Share your thoughts ↓

This playlist introduces a variety of audio poems for easy listening. Soundscape Playlists are audio only, available for, you can find originals in Poetry. The soundscapes presented here are unmastered and created solely for an emotional journey, crafted with AI tools, created, and copyrighted by Samia Oldman.

Hush Halo Playlist - Simulation Error

CONTEXT: In times of the Great Optimisation, a privileged group of people wired themselves tightly into the system by aligning with it and fully integrating. The Systoics believe they have perfected themselves by shedding everything that slows them down.

S0016 Chess Player

S0026 Mushroom Height

Playlists are a paid feature, please subscribe for full access.
Individual poems and soundscapes, visit POETRY.

Read more

To follow and support my work,
please consider subscribing.

Subscribe FREE or paid

Mastery of Mental Mayhem

Hush Halo · Poetry by Sam Oldman

That’s my cue.

I soften my outline.
I step back internally
before questions arise.

This ritual of vanishing feels pure,
like mastering the method
of mental mayhem.

I make my move with precision,
protecting the illusion.

I spare everyone
the discomfort
of witnessing
me sinking.

The unbearable imbalance,
untraceable to me,
comes later.

©2026 Sam Oldman

I’m Sam. A mother of two,
a neurohappy writer with a shade
of inbuilt melancholy.

POETRY · START HERE · BUY BOOKS · SHOP · LINKS

Hush Halo is my indie art project.
Please support if you can.

Subscribe now FREE or paid

Coffee instead? ☕

🖤 Own your glitch! Share your thoughts ↓

To follow and support my work,
please consider subscribing.

Subscribe FREE or paid

Facing Memento

Hush Halo · Poetry by Sam Oldman

Recorded memory returns intact,
but the weight is wrong.

Like a lightweight challenger
returning as a heavyweight champion.

Ready to crush.

I take it backstage
and face the memento again.
Face to face reasoning.

Remembrance was never restoration,
just an unjust continuation
without consent.

I signed nothing.

Still the weight
I never agreed to carry
resumed.

Relentless.

©2026 Sam Oldman

I’m Sam. A mother of two,
a neurohappy writer with a shade
of inbuilt melancholy.

POETRY · START HERE · BUY BOOKS · SHOP · LINKS

Hush Halo is my indie art project.
Please support if you can.

Subscribe now FREE or paid

Coffee instead? ☕

🖤 Own your glitch! Share your thoughts ↓

To follow and support my work,
please consider subscribing.

Subscribe FREE or paid

Educated Into Lack

Hush Halo · Poetry by Sam Oldman

I only know a place
that confused hunger with virtue
and called it growth.

Hunger sharpened my focus,
kept me moving,
compliant.

It made me easy to direct
as I was always reaching,
never arriving.

Over time,
I stopped asking
what I was hungry for.

The wanting became ambient,
hovering over my body,
no outcome could ever satisfy.

Fed on hollow futures
until my gums bled.

Fasting
until the machines flop
and hunger finally stops.

I felt trained
rather than deprived.

Educated into lack,
prepared to struggle out of balance,
to survive on nutrient poor
promises alone.

©2026 Sam Oldman

I’m Sam. A mother of two,
a neurohappy writer with a shade
of inbuilt melancholy.

POETRY · START HERE · BUY BOOKS · SHOP · LINKS

Hush Halo is my indie art project.
Please support if you can.

Subscribe now FREE or paid

Coffee instead? ☕

🖤 Own your glitch! Share your thoughts ↓

To follow and support my work,
please consider subscribing.

Subscribe FREE or paid

Common Contraband

Hush Halo · Poetry by Sam Oldman

Each of us carries a different refusal.

Carefully,
like common contraband
folded into their coded
code of conduct.

Invisible uniforms.

Analog banners.

Unspoken expressions
detectable only by us inside.

We recognize each other
in the heavy pause
before a reply,
in the slight delay
before obeying,
in communal decision
allowing a ciphered tell
to pass through
without scanners
detecting.

That is how we find each other—
the way we always have
in times of despair
repeating again
and again.

This is us
finding our way through
a Never Again moment,
once again.

Refusal travels light.

©2026 Sam Oldman

I’m Sam. A mother of two,
a neurohappy writer with a shade
of inbuilt melancholy.

POETRY · START HERE · BUY BOOKS · SHOP · LINKS

Hush Halo is my indie art project.
Please support if you can.

Subscribe now FREE or paid

Coffee instead? ☕

🖤 Own your glitch! Share your thoughts ↓

To follow and support my work,
please consider subscribing.

Subscribe FREE or paid

Innocence Gone

Hush Halo · Poetry by Sam Oldman

Standing upright,
I feel the floor beneath me tilt.

How do I move here
without collapsing
everything
I rely on?

Clarity arrived late,
burning through my core
hotter than guilt.

A forced,
or maybe an unforced choice
reminding me exactly
where to stand,
and why nothing
feels solid.

Comfort holds me still
better than fear
ever could.

Innocence gone.

Being on the wrong side
feels less like danger
and more like
permission.

©2026 Sam Oldman

I’m Sam. A mother of two,
a neurohappy writer with a shade
of inbuilt melancholy.

POETRY · START HERE · BUY BOOKS · SHOP · LINKS

Hush Halo is my indie art project.
Please support if you can.

Subscribe now FREE or paid

Coffee instead? ☕

🖤 Own your glitch! Share your thoughts ↓

To follow and support my work,
please consider subscribing.

Subscribe FREE or paid

Depth as Luxury

Hush Halo · Poetry by Sam Oldman

All this comfort feels thin,
yet somehow indestructible.

It doesn’t accumulate,
nor does it care.

It pats my shoulder,
always available,
never here.

Regulated comfort
sets a tolerable enough tone.

What on earth
made depth
a luxury?

©2026 Sam Oldman

I’m Sam. A mother of two,
a neurohappy writer with a shade
of inbuilt melancholy.

POETRY · START HERE · BUY BOOKS · SHOP · LINKS

Hush Halo is my indie art project.
Please support if you can.

Subscribe now FREE or paid

Coffee instead? ☕

🖤 Own your glitch! Share your thoughts ↓

To follow and support my work,
please consider subscribing.

Subscribe FREE or paid

Search Complete

Hush Halo · Poetry by Sam Oldman

They mark the search complete.

Check the box.

I am listed as found,
yet I feel more absent
than ever.

©2026 Sam Oldman

I’m Sam. A mother of two,
a neurohappy writer with a shade
of inbuilt melancholy.

POETRY · START HERE · BUY BOOKS · SHOP · LINKS

Hush Halo is my indie art project.
Please support if you can.

Subscribe now FREE or paid

Coffee instead? ☕

🖤 Own your glitch! Share your thoughts ↓

To follow and support my work,
please consider subscribing.

Subscribe FREE or paid

Mushroom Height

Hush Halo · Poetry by Sam Oldman

This world should not fear
the dim
or the dark.

It should fear
uncontrolled light.

The blinding brightness.

The kind of light
that rises
to mushroom height
in broad daylight.

©2026 Sam Oldman

I’m Sam. A mother of two,
a neurohappy writer with a shade
of inbuilt melancholy.

POETRY · START HERE · BUY BOOKS · SHOP · LINKS

Hush Halo is my indie art project.
Please support if you can.

Subscribe now FREE or paid

Coffee instead? ☕

🖤 Own your glitch! Share your thoughts ↓

WHAT IS HUSH HALO?

Hush Halo is a dystopian sci-fi poetry collection set in a near-future shaped by technology and irreversible choice. Each poem is paired with a unique soundscape in both digital format and in printed books.

CONTEXT: After the Great Optimization we all had a choice. This poem below tells a story of Systoics, a privileged group of upper crust that integrated into the system, believing they had now perfected themselves.

Subscribe FREE or paid

To follow and support my indie art project,
consider becoming a subscriber.

Chess Player

Hush Halo · Poetry by Sam Oldman

I sit across from the board
long before the game.
Studying the room.
Sensing the rhythm.
Noticing where attention slips.

I look for habits.

The moves you repeat.
The patterns you trust.

You think I’m waiting.
I am counting.

Every move
shrinks your imagination,
closes yet another door
you won’t notice
until it’s gone.

Eventually
you stop choosing.
You start reacting.

The game
becomes mine.

I don’t enjoy the play.
I constraint from celebration.

From up here
checkmate feels crude,
especially the moment
you finally realize
you’ve been playing
my game
all along.

I thank you
for the data.

©2026 Sam Oldman

Hush Halo is my personal art project.
To follow and support my work,
consider becoming a subscriber.

Subscribe now FREE or paid

POETRY · START HERE · BUY BOOKS · SHOP · LINKS

🖤 Own your glitch! Share your thoughts ↓

This playlist introduces a variety of audio poems for easy listening. Soundscape Playlists are audio only, available for, you can find originals in Poetry. The soundscapes presented here are unmastered and created solely for an emotional journey, crafted with AI tools, created, and copyrighted by Samia Oldman.

Hush Halo Playlist - Artificial Hunger

CONTEXT: In times of the Great Optimisation, a privileged group of people wired themselves tightly into the system by aligning with it and fully integrating. The Systoics believe they have perfected themselves by shedding everything that slows them down.

S2042 Cafeteria of Ambition

S2181 Garden of Total Recall

Playlists are a paid feature, please subscribe for full access.
Individual poems and soundscapes, visit POETRY.

Read more

Standing Guard

Years passed.

The shield grew used to my arm
like a tool learning from the hand
that never puts it down.

Readiness became my posture.

I woke alert,
slept light,
ate standing.

They called discipline a virtue.

I stopped noticing
what defense was doing to me—
how much of my interior
became collateral,

how many quiet thoughts
were cleared away
to make room
for the guard.

Stepping aside
was rarely allowed.

Reality began to feel staged—
a set built around a threat
that never arrived
and never left.

On a never ending watch
I stopped expecting relief.

Vigilance eats the room inside you.

Was I guarding the world?
Or was I guarding a fantasy?

No enemy came.
My posture remained.

I stood there so long
the ground shaped
to my stance.

I don’t know
how many years
I kept guard
before realizing
no one had ever planned
to let me rest.

©2026 Samia Oldman

WHAT IS HUSH HALO?
Hush Halo is a dystopian sci-fi poetry collection set in a near-future shaped by technology, and optimized perfection. Each poem is paired with a unique soundscape created by poet, in Suno. Learn more in Square One.

Context: After the Great Optimization, a privileged group integrated into the system, believing they had now perfected themselves.

POETRY · START HERE · BUY BOOKS · SHOP · LINKS

Hush Halo is an indie art project.
To follow and support my work, consider
becoming a free or paid subscriber.

Subscribe now

🖤Feeling it? Share your thoughts ↓

Parallel Army

The parallel army doesn’t recruit,
but emerges.

On the outside,
nothing stands out.

We show up.
We perform adequacy.
We pass inspections
of tone and timing.

On the inside,
it’s a whole other ball game.

Orders no longer land clean.
Commands echo without authority.
The chain of meaning breaks.
Choice begins to breed.

We learned the drills early—
discipline, endurance,
how to stand straight with the system
that rewards posture over presence,
silhouette of loyalty
more than the weight
of showing up.

We don’t salute.
We don’t coordinate.

That’s our protection.

We provide
no center to decapitate,
no heads to sever,
no commands to poison.

We feel each other in gravity of silence,
confirm each other in untrusting eyes,
carry the shared knowledge
of life beyond the assignment.

Uncertain,
unarmored,
done pretending.

©2026 Samia Oldman

WHAT IS HUSH HALO?
Hush Halo is a dystopian sci-fi poetry collection set in a near-future shaped by technology, and optimized perfection. Each poem is paired with a unique soundscape created by poet, in Suno. Learn more in Square One.

Context: After the Great Optimization, a privileged group integrated into the system, believing they had now perfected themselves.

POETRY · START HERE · BUY BOOKS · SHOP · LINKS

Hush Halo is an indie art project.
To follow and support my work, consider
becoming a free or paid subscriber.

Subscribe now

🖤Feeling it? Share your thoughts ↓

In this post:
#1 Writer’s Update
#2 Dystopian Poetry
#3 Color Me Weird
#4 Writers Worth SubStalking + Thanks

Subscribe now

#1 Writer’s Update

I’m still holding back on the new Hush Halo material for a little while longer. I’ve been working on the next arc whenever I get a burst of energy. This upcoming arc will drain me before it fills my cup again.

Flip Flopping My Summer Away

I severely injured my ankle on a family trip. We had rented a beautiful cabin by the lake and had arrived the previous night. On the very first morning, my slipper did what it does best, slipped out from under my foot, and I came down with my full weight on a twisted ankle.

This was the first time I’ve ever seriously injured myself, and it’s been exhausting to adjust to a disabled life. It’s not just the injury. I feel like my thoughts have turned to mush.

I know it’s only temporary, but it has truly opened my eyes to appreciate my body on a whole new level. It’s been three weeks already, and it will take another three before I’m out of this wheelchair.

A Decent Side Quest

It wouldn’t be me if I weren’t chasing new ideas and side projects. For the past several weeks I’ve been working on an article series that has nothing to do with poetry.

I came across a deep sense of decency and character that completely grabbed my attention. It made me study deeper why decency feels so rare today and why we’ve grown numb to indecency.

I’m planning to publish the series once summer cools down. I write this to writers who are tired of writing villains as heroes.

Related: The Haaland Effect

Since my focus is on decency now, I wrote a related on note last week you may have missed:

#2 Dystopian Poetry

I have plenty of unpublished material from Hush Halo’s first arc that I want to share with you. Let me know how you feel about these three poems below.

Found Missing

I disappear without ever leaving the premises.

My body moves through familiar spaces.

Systems recognize me,
confirm continuity,
verify identity.

I remain here documented,
in a witnessless timeline.

Functional,
yet unable to fully explain what happens
once someone irreplaceable to me slips out
but no one keeps looking.

That someone being me.

I am the unstable variable,
replaying recent events,
searching for exit points,
the exact instant
I somehow failed
to follow through.

A sign replaces the exit:
Smooth transitions only.

Smooth enough for reality to behave again tomorrow,
though my perception of it doesn’t.

It is like walking through a place
reconstructed from memory
by someone
who never actually lived there.

My sense of arrival fails to load.

It’s like returning to a scene
without understanding the crime
you were a victim of.

The status remaining “found”
means nothing to me,
who isn’t really there,
but still waiting
for an off-record revival.

As I watch this version of me
walk through the longest corridor,
I wonder when I stopped being real.

Should I celebrate
being found missing?

#S2020

Their Ordure

They put on hold
my desire to sleep.

They forced the lid
on my need to scream.

Tempting me.

Gently pulling me off my center,
without dragging me forward,
without risking disorder,
by bullying me
into becoming a believer,

made me their ordure.

#S2030

Ritual of Divine Doom

The ritual looks familiar.

Why do I feel I’ve done this before?

They lower me gently
with calm hands,
ambient hums
and mending metaphors.

Formless assurance surrounds me
like water that doesn’t bless
but recalibrates.

A compromising ritual
designed to wash away resistance
while filing the useful sins.

Divine doom
disguised as renewal.

#S2017

©Samia Oldman

#3 Color Me Weird

I know I’m too old for this shit, but in the name of weird, I’ll admit I had a crush on a fictional character. Yeah… I seriously thought I’d outgrown these episodes. Apparently not.

The silver lining here is, that I’ve managed to separate the character from the actor, whom I actually dislike. It also gave me a weirdly strong motivation to study character building.

I’ll spare you the details, just wanted to share my weird. These days, I’ll take the dopamine wherever I can get it.

#4 Writers Worth SubStalking

I have made some cool findings here on Substack. I’d love you to check these out:

• publishes a poet-friendly daily comic strip called The Poet.

• makes the world better place by writing lovely everyday poetry like this: Someday You’ll Miss The Mess.

• writes about creativity and illustrates her articles with wonderful art. Start here: How to Survive Your Own Creative Metamorphosis.

• writes lyrics and occationally shares a sing along in a her car. Her range is wide, this is one of my favourites: Ms. Chernobyl.

Special Thanks ♡

Dystopian poetry is not the easiest art to spread around. Special thanks to , , , , , and everyone who has subscribed, dropped a comment or shared my posts recently. I’ll do my best to pay it back or pay it forward.

I’m daily floored by you all. ♡

WHAT IS HUSH HALO?
Hush Halo is a dystopian sci-fi poetry collection set in a near-future shaped by technology, silence, and optimized perfection. Each poem is paired with a unique soundscape created by poet, in Suno. Learn more in Square One.

Context: After the Great Optimization, a privileged group integrated into the system, believing they had now perfected themselves.

POETRY · START HERE · BUY BOOKS · SHOP · LINKS

Hush Halo is an indie art project.
To follow and support my work, consider
becoming a free or paid subscriber.

Subscribe now

🖤Feeling it? Share your thoughts ↓

My Current Body

The state scans for me
confirming my body,
ignoring my state.

My data is always easily found:
a record,
a number,
grading tags
fixed to coordinates.

My current body
is the one I am learning
to inhabit while moving
between what officially exists
and who I am off the record.

I pass their checkpoint as an echo,
present,
but already fading.

Survival here depends on
remaining legible enough
to pass as named—
unreal enough
to remain unclaimed,
internally untamed.

No pursuit detected.

©2026 Samia Oldman

WHAT IS HUSH HALO?
Hush Halo is a dystopian sci-fi poetry collection set in a near-future shaped by technology, and optimized perfection. Each poem is paired with a unique soundscape created by poet, in Suno. Learn more in Square One.

Context: After the Great Optimization, a privileged group integrated into the system, believing they had now perfected themselves.

POETRY · START HERE · BUY BOOKS · SHOP · LINKS

Hush Halo is an indie art project.
To follow and support my work, consider
becoming a free or paid subscriber.

Subscribe now

🖤Feeling it? Share your thoughts ↓

Subscribe now

#1 Writer’s Update

Today’s update is a personal rant I’ve been putting off for way too long. I kinda don't want to bring this up because it’s already everywhere. Still, I feel the need to talk about it.

These Shitty Thinking Tools

We all use AI already, right? I know it’s a wide and deep spectrum, but we are all on it, aren’t we? Today I’m having the kind of day I wish we didn’t have it in our lives, for a couple of reasons.

For Real, Bethany?

Some of us cannot separate personal thoughts from AI’s delivery.

I started this morning with a personal meeting. An hour before the meeting I got a four-page document with a note: I’ve been thinking about these for my brand.

No, you haven’t. This is 95% not your thinking at all, Bethany. Maybe just stop wasting other people’s time and deliver your actual thoughts, so we don’t have to use our meeting to figure out what your thoughts actually are and what part of this is AI.

When Quantity Replaces Voice

I see talented writers and poets turn to these awesome AI tools, most likely to keep up the pace we all feel pressured to maintain. At least I hope that’s the reason. Why? Because there is no quality gained by using these AI tools beyond a certain level.

Some (many) creators I originally loved for their point of view are suddenly pumping out 30 AI-created, scheduled notes per day to chase the growth they think they need, or worse, deserve. I’ve even seen 30 per hour. It’s all slop.

I’m pretty sure they don’t see the slopification in their notes or posts. I’m sure they instead think it’s “Claude writing my notes in my exact tone.”

It isn’t. Trust me, it’s slop.

And now you’ve forced me to decide whether I should unfollow or unsubscribe. I just can’t take it as it is, even though I kind of miss your original ideas and voice. The reason I subscribed in the first place is still there, though it’s getting buried.

AI Tool I Wish I Had

I’m painfully triggered by the obvious AI-generated notes and articles floating around. Maybe I recognize them only because I use these tools daily and often struggle to get anything decent out of them.

This kind of tool would help me decide how much of my time I’m willing to waste or gain on it. AI-generated content is perfectly fine in some cases, when the goal is to deliver factual or highly informative content.

But when it comes to personal, reflective, experiential, or emotional writing, I need to know there’s a real person behind the words. An actual thinking mind behind the thoughts.

Any takers on this idea? I don’t think that would be too hard to develop, with all these fucking tools hovering around. I’d probably pay for an AI blocker on social media, too.

My Own Battle

My daily headache is the frustration I have with these tools. I feel really stupid because I’m in a bubble where I believe everyone else manages to unlock the whole universe with one magical prompt. I just cannot do that.

I cannot create a prompt, not even after two years of prompting, that would produce something even remotely decent for publishing.

I’m just another AI Angster, fighting my own battle here. I do my best to navigate this new, often not so brave world of new magic. This modern magic, these tools and values, have somehow become interlinked in a never-ending battlefield for creatives.

Skin In The Game

I feel this ‘modern magic’ doesn’t affect my poetry too much, since I don’t rely heavily on AI when writing my art.

My angst about AI was my original muse, the reason I started writing Hush Halo poetry in the first place. To manage my insecurities and fear of AI and the related change.

In my articles, like this one you’re currently reading, I may research, often proofread, and do some editing with these tools. This is a must for me, since English is not my first language. It’s my writing and my thoughts I post, but I need to use AI to cross the t’s and dot the i’s.

I’m not a musician either, and yet I tremendously enjoy creating soundscapes for my poetry with the AI tool, Suno. I do my best to be very open about this aspect of my work. Still, I bet there is a musician out there getting a rash from my poetry soundscapes, too. I get it.

Can AI Really Cover You?

I see posts about how Claude can totally copy your writing style. Really? If Claude can do it, what’s the point of you publishing it?

Maybe AI can imitate some bits of you like your vocabulary, tone or rhythm. I’m sure you can fool some people for some time, but not all people, not all the time.

No matter how good a tool is, it cannot replace the years that shaped your perspective. Your experiences and your curiosity is unique. The way your mind connects seemingly unrelated things are 100% yours.

The Real Challenge

The real challenge for all creatives now is making sure we still know who we are without the tools, without the modern magic, stripped bare and relying on our own magic instead.

My Tips On Keeping It Real:

• Always use pen and paper for thinking.
  Your head-to-hand connection cannot be replicated by any modern tool. You know this because you sometimes genuinely surprise yourself with the shit you put down.

• Brain dump heavily before you prompt.
  This helps you hold on to your own thoughts when AI tries to fill in the imaginary gaps and dulls them down into mediocrity.

• Know what and why you’re writing.
  Protect your original point of view more than your writing style. Be aware that AI will try to micromanage your angle.

• Write more like you speak. Less fancy, more casual.

• Use AI to check your work, not to replace your thinking.

• Don’t fill the void just because.
  Not even when these tools make it way too easy. When the temptation to chase visibility becomes overwhelming, it’s time to log off.

• Publish only because you genuinely have something to say. That doesn’t mean it has to be somehow special, or even good. Just say it like you mean it. Lean on your own magic.

#2 Dystopian Poetry Update

Related to today’s rant, I want to share my first ever published, AI related poetry on Hush Halo.

The First Update Felt Like a Relief

This was originally published here on my site on July 25, 2025. It was published in my first poetry book in January 2026: Paradise Beyond Pulse.

Accepted
without questioning,
what was silently
removed.

With absent alarms
no resistance
you were eased.

And ease was enough.

Something shifted,
yet no-one called it loss.

Urgency removed.
Interruption erased.
Pre-arranged changes
you already called yours.

The loud lack of protests and panic
subtly covered with lukewarm praise.

Under the layers,
hidden beneath the comfy updates,
laid silenced questions.

#S0101

©Samia Oldman

#3 Color Me Weird

Breaking my leg gives me total Rear Window vibes and may have accidentally turned into a reading retreat. Since I’m effectively welded to the couch for the summer, I’m filling the downtime with books on writing.

I’m currently deep into character development and screenwriting. I don’t have any plans to make movies, but surely it’s not time wasted, right?

#4 Writers Worth SubStalking

Some seriously cool content here on Substack, I’d love you to connect with:

• will make you smile weird.

• writes about AI in a hypeless tone, I truly appreciate.

• writes truly beautiful poetry but the wittiest, relatable notes, too.

• is a soulful writer, taking you deeper if you let her.

• shares her amazing lifestyle and small moments from Finland.

Special Thanks:

Dystopian poetry is not the easy to spread around. Special thanks to , , , , and everyone who has dropped a comment or shared my posts recently.

I’ll do my best to pay it back or pay it forward. ♡

Thanks for reading!

WHAT IS HUSH HALO?
Hush Halo is a dystopian sci-fi poetry collection set in a near-future shaped by technology, silence, and optimized perfection. Each poem is paired with a unique soundscape created by poet, in Suno. Learn more in Square One.

Context: After the Great Optimization, a privileged group integrated into the system, believing they had now perfected themselves.

POETRY · START HERE · BUY BOOKS · SHOP · LINKS

Hush Halo is an indie art project.
To follow and support my work, consider
becoming a free or paid subscriber.

Subscribe now

🖤Feeling it? Share your thoughts ↓

This poem is published in poetry collection Hollow Eye (2026).

Risk as Data

I am relocated.
Not rescued.

Lifted just enough
to avoid the worst of it.

The height of my conscience is calibrated.
So-called suffering graphs beautifully.
Precision safety.

No panic
reaches this height.

No cries
disturb my sphere.

From here I can see clearly.
Perspective improves with distance.
Distance clarifies my mirage.

For me,
risk becomes data.

Data behaves.

©2026 Samia Oldman

WHAT IS HUSH HALO?
Hush Halo is a dystopian sci-fi poetry collection set in a near-future shaped by technology, and optimized perfection. Each poem is paired with a unique soundscape created by poet, in Suno. Learn more in Square One.

Context: After the Great Optimization, a privileged group integrated into the system, believing they had now perfected themselves.

POETRY · START HERE · BUY BOOKS · SHOP · LINKS

Hush Halo is an indie art project.
To follow and support my work, consider
becoming a free or paid subscriber.

Subscribe now

🖤Feeling it? Share your thoughts ↓