the rabbit hole 🕳️🐇
i fall down at least one rabbit hole a day—sometimes it’s a line from a book, sometimes it’s ancient history, sometimes it’s quantum physics, sometimes it’s a minor grievance about avocados.
this is where i keep those daily musings, deep dives, accidental obsessions.
they’re less polished. more feral. truer to whatever mood or wonder happened to catch me that morning. i publish a few adventures each week.
if you like watching curiosity unfold in real time—
this is for you.
Why So Satirical? A Personal Journey Through Humanity's Oldest Side-Eye
I was about six or seven when I first discovered satire, though I wouldn't have called it that at the time. My mom used to watch SNL reruns in the evening, and I'd wander into the living room, puzzled by the strange spectacle unfolding on screen. People were speaking in exaggerated ways, mimicking others I vaguely recognized from the news, twisting their words and mannerisms just enough that the audience erupted in knowing laughter. I sat there, confused by the dissonance. This wasn't exactly mockery, though it contained elements of it. It was something more artful, more...
notes to self: reminders from Michel de Montaigne
I spent this morning sifting through everything I've written over the past year. Blog posts, essays, personal reflections, half-finished projects—all over the map in terms of topics and style. And that familiar feeling crept in: that nagging self-doubt about not having a "niche."
my night in the desert with shrooms and ants
A few summers ago, I was in the middle of the desert on mushrooms with a close friend. We were lying in the dirt under a cluster of Joshua trees and stars, eating ice-cold slices of watermelon, sweat drying on our skin, dust in our hair. The air temperature matched our bodies so perfectly it felt like we weren’t outside at all—but floating in some liminal in-between, like a movie set with no crew. The moon was the fullest moon I think I’ve ever seen. It hung so low and heavy it felt like I could just reach up and touch it. Coyotes called out from the distance. Nighthawks swept quietly overhead. Everything around us felt alive in the exact right proportion.
the madness, the wheatfields, and the heartbreak of Vincent van Gogh
Today's rabbit hole started with a very personal kind of panic: I'm in my mid-thirties and have a birthday coming up next month, and sometimes I get hit with the feeling that I should have "figured it out" by now—that whatever "my thing" is, it should already be happening. I’ve been reading a book about Vincent Van Gogh’s life, so when I learned that he didn't even seriously pick up a paintbrush until he was almost 30, it resonated with the panic and shook something up inside of me. A much-needed perspective shift. There's still time. There's still room to stumble around and find the thing that “sets my soul on fire” as they say.
patterns of presidents and... pet raccoons?
Hi friends! Happy Monday! I’m excited to introduce you to my newest series: Thoughts from Down the Rabbit Hole. This will be just for my paying subscribers (that’s you!), and I’m hoping to publish on…