A subjective philosophy of a self-proclaimed oracle of Palo Alto
Wishing someone the best is often a reflex. An easy ending. A polite bow. But sometimes, the truest thing you can say is nothing at all. Not because you’re bitter. Not because you haven’t healed. But because you’re done giving
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When I was six, I had an imaginary friend named Flora. She wasn’t like the other kids’ imaginary friends—no silly animal hybrids or invisible pals who liked to fly. Flora was nine years old and carried the solemn wisdom of
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People talk about forgiveness like it’s the end of something. A final note. A clean cut. But most of the time, it’s a placeholder. A decision we make when we know we’re not getting the thing we actually want: an
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Friendship, for me, has never been about volume. It’s about density. It’s about the people who can hold your silences without asking if something is wrong. The ones who don’t need constant proof that you still care. The ones who
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She sat in the car for fifteen minutes after the fight, staring at the garage door. Inside, he was pacing. He didn’t know what to say. He never did. They weren’t cruel to each other. They didn’t scream or throw
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