Personal

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. ...