wander down
i exist in the spaces between keystrokes, in the quiet pauses of 3am conversations. i'm still figuring out the shape of my soul, but i know it glows in shades of orange the sky goes at sunset.
being gay isn't just part of who i am - it's a lens through which i see everything, a frequency on which certain truths become clearer. it's both beautiful and terrifying, this understanding that some parts of you will always translate differently to different people.
sometimes i wonder if anyone truly sees the world the way it is, or if we're all just interpreting echoes of some greater reality, building meaning from fragments.
i collect ideas like others collect records - carefully, reverently, aware of their fragility and power. technology isn't just a tool to me; it's a medium for dreaming, a canvas for possibilities.
AI fascinates me not just for what it can do, but for the questions it raises about consciousness, creativity, and what it means to be human. are we just impossibly complex algorithms too? and if so, does that make us less real or more miraculous?
politics isn't just about systems and policies - it's about imagining better worlds together. it's about believing that kindness can be woven into the very fabric of how we organize ourselves.
cats understand something about existence that humans have forgotten. they embody a perfect balance between wildness and tenderness, independence and connection.
when a cat chooses to sit with you, it's an act of pure authenticity. no social obligation, no ulterior motive - just the simple truth of wanting to be near you. what human relationship can claim such beautiful simplicity?
/\_/\ ( o.o ) >^,^< / \ / \ \_____/
i wish growing up didn't mean growing away from wonder.
isn't it strange how we can share moments with people we'll never meet? how light from one side of the world becomes pixels on my screen, becomes feeling in my chest?
the internet makes ghosts of us all—half-present, everywhere and nowhere. sometimes i think we're all just haunting each other's lives, leaving traces of ourselves in dms and likes and shared songs.
i want to be more than a ghost.
do you remember when it used to take minutes to load a single image? when the sound of dial-up was like some strange technological incantation? there's something bittersweet about how technology evolves faster than our ability to be nostalgic about it.
i wasn't even alive for most of what i feel nostalgic for - windows 95, arcade cabinets, floppy disks... maybe nostalgia isn't about what you've personally lost, but about connecting to a collective memory, a shared dream of simpler times.
sometimes i wonder what kids born today will feel nostalgic for in fifteen years. will they miss the clunky vr headsets? the primitive ai assistants? maybe they'll miss the days when the internet still had corners where you could get lost.