a kitchen full of swallowed feelings

the first tattoo i ever loved

episode 26. this one’s about the day i marked myself for the first time. a tattoo for stray kids, the music that raised me and kept me alive at 16yo. the needle turned pain into permanence, memory into something i could carry on my skin. sometimes forever is the gentlest way of saying thank u.

a dialect only i understand

episode 25. this one’s about the feelings that refuse to be translated. how songs, films, and photographs sometimes speak better than words ever could. and how our bodies carry a private vocabulary made of all the different senses. not everything has to be named to be real.

ghost in .jpg format

episode 24. this one’s about the versions of us that live in forgotten folders. photos taken without thought, now holding feelings i couldn’t name back then. how memory can linger in pixels, blurry, out of order, but still tender. proof that even when i wasn’t fully present, i was still here.

a kitchen full of swallowed feelings

episode 23. this one’s about the kind of mess that builds quietly. how neglected routines start to speak louder than words ever could. the kitchen became a mirror, and every bowl, a confession i didn’t know i was making. healing starts with the smallest, gentlest kind of return.

their voice stayed longer than they did

episode 22. this one’s about the voices we hold onto. the way a passing message becomes a place we return to over and over. how replaying a voicemail can feel like reaching through silence and into memory. and how some people echo long after they’re gone.