A soft record of the pages I’ve written through—essays, blog posts, books, and passing thoughts that refused to stay unspoken. Some of it began as journal entries. Some of it started with a single sentence I couldn’t shake. All of it carries my voice, even when I wasn’t sure who was listening.
You’ll find books built from ache, essays shaped by memory, and blog posts that live somewhere between reflection and confession. There’s no single theme. Just a consistent thread: the need to name what lingers. I don’t write to be impressive. I write to survive myself, and to offer language for others doing the same.
This is the work that stayed. The rest, I let go of.
