Dec 20, 2025
Looking at a calendar still flipped to last month and realizing time moves whether I acknowledge it or not, which feels less like freedom and more like abandonment.
seen from Puerto Rico
seen from Puerto Rico
seen from Sweden
seen from China
seen from China
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from China
seen from Türkiye
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Netherlands
seen from Pakistan
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Thailand
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Singapore
Looking at a calendar still flipped to last month and realizing time moves whether I acknowledge it or not, which feels less like freedom and more like abandonment.
Hearing the house settle at night and thinking about how even buildings adjust to pressure, while I’m still resisting mine.
Opening the freezer and feeling the cold spill out, thinking about how containment looks a lot like preservation from the outside.
Watching dust settle on a shelf and thinking about how neglect isn’t dramatic—it’s just quiet accumulation until something looks abandoned.
Turning a doorknob and thinking about how every door already knows what it’s supposed to lead to, while I still feel like I’m opening the wrong things by accident.
Seeing the vacuum cord tangled again and thinking about how I keep tripping over the same problems because I never fully wind them up and put them away.
Standing at the sink, hands in soapy water, thinking about how my plants know exactly what to do with light and I still don’t know what to do with my days.
Watching the ceiling fan turn in slow, lazy circles and thinking about how it never asks why it keeps going, never questions whether it deserves motion, never needs reassurance to stay in the air.