Host It, Don't Ghost it!
Icons of Dysfunction – The Brands That Raised Me, Ghosted Me, and Now Charge for Premium Access Over the past two days, we’ve scrolled through the unholy terrain of social media madness—starting with Reddit and Twitter/X, where emotional validation is
Continue readingFrom Minion Memes to TED Talk Trauma: The Brands I Can’t Stop Scrolling
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This might sound strange, but I don’t have a list of people I look up to. No inspirational icons pinned to my mental bulletin board. No singular voice I turn to for advice. Not because I think I know everything—far
Filtered Realities and Flash Sale Feelings: When Aesthetics Replace Thought We came. We posted. We dissociated. This series is for anyone who’s ever doomscrolled through Reddit, rage-reacted on Facebook, filtered their soul on Instagram, or gotten life advice from a
Yes, I vote in elections. But not like a team sport. I don’t vote party lines, and I don’t confuse emotion with evidence. I vote for what’s rooted. I vote for what’s possible. But truth is, the ballot box isn’t
A.K.A The Great Social Media Smackdown: A Three-Part Descent into Digital Madness We came. We posted. We dissociated. This series is for anyone who’s ever doomscrolled through Reddit, rage-reacted on Facebook, filtered their soul on Instagram, or gotten life advice
What gives you direction in life? Chaos gives me direction. I know—that probably sounds discomforting to most people. Even those who say they embrace the chaos still try to control it. But that’s the thing: you don’t control chaos. Chaos
Do you have a quote you live your life by or think of often? “Host it. Don’t ghost it.” When I was growing up, my mom and I used to collect quotes like other families might collect souvenirs. We’d scribble
(A toss-up between cobwebs and candy canes) I can’t pick a favorite holiday.I’ve tried.Every time I think it’s Halloween, Christmas pulls me back in with the scent of cinnamon and the warmth of garlanded nostalgia.But when I lean too close
Buying Back My Gravity for $23 It doesn’t look like a beginning. It looks like a secondhand Epson Stylus Pro 3880. Big. Heavy. Silent. Unassuming. A printer built for gallery-quality prints—but even more than that, a hulking metaphor parked in
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