Personal

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 I do not paste unpublished data, private datasets, or anything under confidentiality into a model.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. ...

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 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. ...

Sometimes I feel like I want to go one way while the world goes the other. I want to do my little things and let the world handle its big ones. I would rather live in my imagination and leave reality to everyone else. I just want to build my own small world full of small people, small moments, and small joys, and let the rest belong to the world. ...

No light. No warmth. No love. It’s one of those days when everything feels empty. Still, my head feels heavy with some sort of fog. I wish I could draw it out, like Sinuhe with his ancient tools, drilling the skull to let the pressure escape. Maybe then, clarity would return. Sadness rises quietly, without reason or warning. You notice it, try to dismiss it, but it stays. Maybe it’s fatigue. Maybe it’s the weight of small, unspoken things that have built up over time. ...