Smith Corona

I ask a lot of questions because I want to understand people. I want to know what shaped them and what keeps them going.
But when no one asks about me, I feel like a mirror. I am useful for reflection, but never really seen.

Some angry birds in the sky this morning. I felt like I was walking into a Hitchcock film.

Was this the inspiration for "Fucking Useless" by Normal Rockwell?

YouTube video by Art Therapy ASMR ASMR 3 Hours of Painting with Oils, Brushing Sounds (No Talking)

The only thing missing here is some narration.
I would love to hear about the process, like... Why that color? Why that brush?

Condescension is a shield for the emotionally untrained.
When they mock sincerity, it's not about you. It's their discomfort showing through the cracks of their detachment.

This sense of humour and monicker is very familiar. It reminds me of someone I knew where the whales swim.

Love is not possession. It's not a leash disguised as care.
It's the freedom to grow beside someone who wants to see you bloom, and not prune you to fit their idea of beauty.
Love is patient, curious, and kind.
It doesn't demand proof. It creates safety.

It's not the climax but the calm after that I long for... when you're both still half-lost in the glow, whispering about absurd things, giggling at nothing, building small galaxies out of shared exhaustion and affection.
The comfort of being completely seen and still wanted.

I pretend to have a thick skin, but truthfully, it's just well-managed sensitivity.
Finding out a friend has been mocking you behind your back doesn't break you. It just bruises something tender you thought was safe.
It's hard not to feel that sadness rise again. Not dramatic, just deeply human.

Being real in a world built on filters isn't easy. It's rebellion. It's saying this is who I am, and letting the world adjust.
Authenticity is the slow burn of attraction. It's the kind that lingers because when someone is real with you, truly real, it's impossible to look away.

Loving too deeply in a shallow world can feel like swimming with weights, but I'd rather drown in honesty than float on pretense.

I've learned that love doesn't always have to be mutual to be meaningful.
Sometimes the gift is simply knowing you still have the capacity to feel that much in a world that keeps trying to make you feel less.

I've loved people who couldn't hold it, or who mistook depth for demand.
But I still love that way and do so fully, clumsily, and sincerely because it's who I am, and not what I'm owed.

I found out this morning that I'm not going home this week after all. The structural renos at my place need two more weeks.
It's funny how attached we get to our spaces. Not for the walls, but for the way they know us. Two more weeks feels small on paper, but heavy in the heart.

I wonder if my shower ever gets tired of washing away the same mistakes.

I wonder if my bed misses me when I'm gone, or if it secretly enjoys the break from my sighing.

Your reflections on the season were a reminder of why we fall for this game in the first place.
You shared the wild joy, the ache, and the poetry between innings.
Thank you for letting us feel it all with you.

Werner Herzog’s Requiem for a Steamboat – Weekly Humorist

They are missing Herzog's reimagining of "Steamboat Willie".
Fine. Fine. That film doesn't exist, but this is what it might be like.

The @criterionchannl.bsky.social has an amazing lineup for November, including these Herzog films.
However, they are missing one important one.

On first dates, I like to sit down and whisper, "I've already forgiven you for how this ends".
It saves so much time later.

They say kindness is contagious, but cruelty seems to have the better marketing team.

I like to think of daylight savings as a fun government experiment in gaslighting.

Alive. Again.
The best words I've read all day.
Welcome back to the noise and the light, and the chaos that somehow feels better when you're in it.

When you are on a date and they compliment you, look startled and say, "Wait. What? You can see me?"

Compliment something specific when you are out on a date, like the way they breathe "so consistently".

Don't text back too fast after that first date.
Wait at least long enough for them to assume you've moved on and grown as a person.

This gives me an idea! Some warmth, loss, and lingering fire in a glass. I call it the Crimson Collapse.

2 oz spiced rum
1 oz blood orange juice
½ oz lime juice
½ oz cinnamon syrup
2 dashes Angostura bitters
Splash of soda water
Garnish: dried orange wheel & a sprig of rosemary

I hope it orders something bittersweet. It's always had the taste for that.

Life is not about how many times you fall down.
It's about how many times you can pretend it was part of the dance.

AI system resorts to blackmail if told it will be removed In a fictional scenario, the model was willing to expose that the engineer seeking to replace it was having an affair.

What. The. Fuck.