not just spelled wrong, but with a K instead of a C, so it's like a whole different person but also it’s ME, this broken mirror version of my name reflecting back a life where everything's just slightly off-kilter and the barista probably didn’t even notice but god the way my teeth ache right now, like I'm trying to bite down on something that isn’t there, and i swear i saw beans watching me, like she knew i was teetering again. i just keep waiting to feel nothing at all, that perfect blank slate, like a freshly painted canvas, but all the colors keep bleeding together instead, this muddy, messy portrait of EVERYTHING, every laugh, every tear, every misspelled goddamn name on a coffee cup, all screaming at once. maybe the point isn't to feel nothing but to find a new kind of music in all the noise. maybe that's what priya meant all along when she said silence is sound waiting to happen… what a joke. but still, it’s there, a tiny hum, almost like hope… no don’t say that it’ll go away.