I write because thinking silently stopped working.

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This blog exists somewhere between curiosity and critique, between loving the world as it is and being deeply suspicious of it. I’m interested in how culture shapes us, how nostalgia distorts us, and how easily we confuse confidence with certainty.

 

My writing leans personal but not precious, opinionated but self-aware. I believe humor is one of the most honest tools we have, especially when talking about things that feel heavy, uncomfortable, or absurd.

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You’ll find essays here about identity, family, class, beauty, media, and the quiet fear that we’re all becoming a little more cynical than we meant to.

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I don’t write to give answers. I write to slow things down long enough to ask better questions.