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How much of what hurts are you carrying on purpose? Does the pain explain everything, or does it excuse everything? How much of your peace is real, and how much is just pretending? How much of your present is held hostage by your past? The path you know. The identity you have rehearsed for years. You call it stability, but maybe you just fear becoming a stranger to yourself. How much of your future relies on people you think will never leave? Did you build your life around temporary things and then feel betrayed when they changed? ...

AI Usage Disclosure I use large language models in my work, including in the code in my public repositories. What I use them for: writing and refactoring code, generating tests, drafting documentation, reviewing my own code for edge cases I missed, exploring unfamiliar libraries, and rubber-ducking design decisions before I commit to one. What I do not use them for: generating data, results, or producing any scientific claim I have not verified against a primary source. I do not paste unpublished data, private datasets, or anything under confidentiality into a model. ...

For a long time, I used Debian. I still run it on my office laptop. It is hard not to respect a distro with that kind of stubborn integrity without ever caring about being cool. Debian users have the energy of someone who picks a black business laptop with zero bells and whistles, leaves the settings stock, and expects it to boot the exact same way every morning for five years. A computer is a tool, not a science experiment. ...

The server room is too loud. You picture blue LEDs blinking in the dark. It’s actually a wall of sound - thousands of small fans screaming in slightly different keys, a noise that gets into your teeth. I had the yellow ear protection on and could still feel it in my jaw. Aaron didn’t seem to notice. Or he noticed years ago and made his peace. He walked the row, found the machine, pressed the release. The drive slid out. He held it up, turned it once in the light, and pointed at it with his chin. Grab this. ...

I made this in the winter of 2025, when I noticed my mood was low and I wanted to see the correlations between what I feel and what I do. After some research I figured out what I wanted from a tracker, and what I could add to make it useful for other people too. I decided to keep it frictionless, which turned out to be especially helpful for people with ADHD (I am not one of them). ...

image source He’s around forty-five, and he’s the oldest person anyone in the band has ever known. Most of his back teeth fell out years ago. He can’t chew tough food anymore. Someone pounds his meat soft for him, or he eats organ meat and marrow instead. His hip and spine are so arthritic he moves stiffly, like his joints are made of wood. He hasn’t brought in a single kill in more than five years. The band is nineteen people, living on the edge of survival. And still, they keep him. ...

They remember you and they wait for you. They know what you forgot, they know who you were and what you did. Order the original hand-pulled linoprint here

What else would I need? Pure purrfection.

I open my eyes and I am on a chair. It is a coffee shop, but very empty. Too clean. Only straight lines, and a long wooden bar. There is no one behind the bar. No coffee machine sounds. No sounds at all. There is only one man. He sits at the bar, looking at a small black cup of espresso. I want one. A hot one. He does not drink it. He does not look at me. ...

I am racing against a clock that doesn’t exist. The war started, and within days my instinct was to invent deadlines to move faster and work harder. As if hurrying could make the painful situation end sooner. I called it resilience. I called it coping. But it is a childish form of escape, dressed up in productivity. My body still wants to sprint. My mind knows there is nowhere to run. Just a situation unfolding on its own time, with or without my panic. ...