I spend a lot of time thinking about the things people usually avoid: meaning, purpose, death, the big “why.” It messes with my head in the best and worst ways. Sometimes I spiral into it at 3am and everything feels pointless. Other times I find profound meaning in the way light hits my coffee cup and just shrug at the mystery of it all. Both responses are part of the same beautifully weird picture. I find a weird comfort in not knowing, strange relief in admitting I’m completely winging it, and oddly satisfying meaning in moments that make zero logical sense. That feels more real than pretending I have it all figured out. That’s exactly what I bring to this space: permission to be beautifully lost, to find strange comfort in uncertainty, and to talk about the weird shit that keeps you up at night. If you're the type of person who resonates with this, we might be fit. I see you.