*this is a folder on my desktop
this is a bed of moss that remembers every footstep
this is a bedside lamp that stays on, even when i'm away
this is a blanket
this is a cicada waiting for the summer
this is a coat hook for passing thoughts
this is a comet passing once in a long while
this is a corner where clothes, books, and all sorts of little things gather
this is a dog waiting by the door
this is a doormat
this is a drawer that holds memories
this is a dream cached somewhere on the internet
this is a faint light that never fully goes out
this is a firefly blinking to be found
this is a folder that remembers more than it should
this is a goldfish forgetting, then remembering again
this is a guestbook left open for internet friends
this is a half-finished cup of tea
this is a hand extended through the screen
this is a hyperlink that glows when you hover
this is a junkyard
this is a kitchen where memories simmer
this is a meadow that hums
this is a memory saved as a gif loop
this is a moth circling my late-night screen
this is a particle pretending to be light
this is a patch of sunlight moving across the floor
this is a place where meaning is light and presence is sincere
this is a playground
this is a post i keep editing
this is a quiet signal humming among louder ones
this is a refusal to disappear
this is a reminder for myself
this is a river of becoming
this is a room for the gentle communion of presence
this is a satellite whispering from the dark side
this is a scrapbook
this is a shadow that stretches when the day grows long
this is a shelf to honor the small things in everyday life
this is a snail carrying its home
this is a status updater that became a home
this is a stone kept warm by the afternoon sun
this is a superposition of selves
this is a telescope turned inward
this is a tiny space pretending to be infinite
this is a tree that grows sideways toward the light
this is a wave until you look
this is a wind that carries the scent of somewhere i’ve been
this is a worry doll
this is an ant building something no one notices
this is just another website
this is my embrace
this is my personal website
this is my reach toward the world
this is my wind chime
this is not a message, just its afterglow
this is something silly trying to mean something
this is the bed for my digital rest
this is the chair where my grandmother used to sit
this is the echo of something once felt
this is the sound of the fridge at 2 am
this is the window i leave open for the world to find me
this is uncertainty made visible
this is what happens when i stay up too late thinking
this is what's left after the updates are done
this is, like everything else, subject to change