This section functions as a private diary made public. This space is not curated, nor concerned with audience expectations. It contains raw, deeply personal writing. Messy, uncomfortable, unfiltered interiors: unfinished thoughts, emotional exposure, fear, anger, longing, and contradiction, all left intact. There is no pursuit of likability or palatability. I write here to understand myself, not to perform coherence or offer comfort.
I seek to understand my internal states as they are experienced, not as they are consumed. To be vulnerable, to express my most innermost self-interrogations with intensity and even intrusion. Some readers may find this depth too confronting. Some entries may feel too close, too honest, or unsettling in their refusal to resolve neatly and appeal socially. If you are looking for polish, narrative closure, or emotional distance, this may not be the right place. If you continue, do so gently, with yourself and with me.