A clean shirt is both a blessing and a curse. It opens doors. It whispers: I belong here. You pass through lobbies and restaurants without question. No one side-eyes you at the hostess stand. No one assumes you’re there to fix the plumbing. You’re respectable. Composed. Untouchable. But
Dispatches
1 post
Dispatches from the frontier. Ideas built to cut, not soothe.
Posts tagged with Dispatches
Dispatches from The Edge.
Fragments, essays, and experiments—delivered into your hands. Some whole. Some still becoming. All alive.