For as long as I can remember, silence has been my default.

There’s a particular kind of joy that comes from doing something well.

I found myself caring deeply about a combination lock that guarded a fake treasure chest.

In a world obsessed with permanence, emotion remains beautifully fleeting.

I was in New York last week for the first time in five years.

I’ve been turning to AI more often than I care to admit.

It is more about how I feel around them

Sometimes, distance creates clarity.

Disconnection, it turns out, is not the opposite of connection.

Resistance grows in imagination, but shrinks in the doing

When everything matters, it becomes hard to tell what really does.

Not the kind of question meant to impress, but the kind that carries the weight of genuine curiosity.

"How do you write so much?" For a long time, I would say what many say: just start.

It is a deep question that requires first going inwards before going outwards

This past week marked five years since that collective pause.