Marijuana does not enter history politely. It does not knock. It does not ask to be studied, taxed, classified,...
I walked where evening held its breathBeneath a lid of cloud,And every step rang hollowed outAs though...
The Physics of RegretEntropy, irreversible processes, and the mind’s stubborn habit of replaying what...
THE RITUALS WE PERFORM TO FEEL REALFrom morning routines to doomscrolling, an exploration of tiny habits...
Lullaby Lane was the sort of street that never stayed the same shape twice. On windy mornings it curled...
The heart keeps a small, dim roomwhere the old sorrows sit like shy guests,hands folded, unsure whether...
They move like moonlit letterswandering a silver scroll;each step a quiet tremor,a sealed and glowing...
I. The Old Equations No Longer Hold
Human beings have always been mathematicians of instinct. Long before...
I. The Mind Before the Flood
There was a time when thinking itself felt textured. Thoughts had room to...
Strangers return to usthe way moonlight returns to water—quietly,without permission,without explanation,as...
It was the beginning of an end.
The cat arrived in the fifth hour of an unnamed dusk, when the sky trembled...
He has always suspected that silence is older than sound.
Not older in the chronological sense—though...