6.30.2026 oh salty teary sweaty june may my neighbours keep their music down so my window can stay open 6.2.2026 far far at the horizon, a flock of three-winged birds in motion ever so solemnly pushed to their limits only during the strongest of sighs 3.31.2026 recalling certain moments from the beginning of this month, which now feels like a whole lifetime ago. four weeks spent in a different city, a different country, far away from what i consider to be home, as vague and volatile as that notion may be. it was a hard month, tumbling back into bad habits, but at the same time also one of opening up, of starting to face myself, of acceptance and i finally ripped off the band-aid and made an account on this cute website. thank you to everyone involved, i'm happy to be here c: 3.30.2026 a symphony of belly grumbling architects (found out about Bowellism after writing this) 3.29.2026 these days i often feel like i'm stuck in traffic, moving at a barely perceptible speed. as i look out the window, i see the same radio tower in the distance from a seemingly unchanging angle. only once enough time has passed, time spent listening to a debate on the spatial manifestation of time, streamed on the car radio relayed by the very tower lying ever-so-unchanged at the horizon of the window, only once this meandering conversation has crossed territories as vast as the sea of cars in front and behind mine, a sea of shimmering lights, sun refracted in the many metallic faces, the air buzzing with the simmering frustration of a thousand drivers, only then a slight change in the angle can be detected. but just as one grows tired of bearing witness to the incremental steps of a flower opening in spring, one gives up on measuring the experiential angle between point A, B and the looming radio tower in the distance.