diary left in the rain

i’m just someone who notices things—like the way people speak when they’re tired, or how wind moves things you can’t see. this is my quiet corner of the internet, a place to keep thoughts that don’t fit anywhere else. you can call it a diary or a collection or just rain left behind. sometimes i think i write just to keep from standing still.

lately i’ve been thinking about in-between places. mornings before the light shows up. conversations you don’t finish. doorways you don’t step through. being seventeen feels like that—like the world’s waiting, but nobody told it what for.

i write poems and take pictures of things that feel like they might disappear if i don’t. stains on paper. faces in windows. blurry neon signs and the inside of coffee cups. maybe one day it’ll make sense.

this site is soft and homemade—like a paper note passed under a desk. please be gentle with it.