đ
°ââ.ŕłŕż*:ｼ đ
Dear Diary,
I was always obsessed as a kidâwith the wrong things. Or maybe just things that didnât fit neatly into conversations, things people didnât really know how to respond to. Facts that got met with a blank stare or a quick subject change. I wanted to talk about HTML. I wanted to talk about how computers work, why I love animals, and how fonts can make you feel something.
Sometimes I even irritated myself.
It wasnât that I thought no one would listen. Itâs more that Iâve always had interests most people donât really like, and… thatâs okay. Iâm learning that itâs okay. My brain’s always been loud with connections no one else can see. I cared so much about things other people just didnât notice. Still do.
Even todayâa plug-in on my WordPress site just stopped working. Gone. No warning. One minute everythingâs fine, the next minute the site looks like it got into a bar fight with a 2006 MySpace page. No one around me really cared, and I didnât expect them to. I donât have many friends who worry about broken widgets or whether my footer aligns perfectly on mobile.
But I do.
It matters to me.
I want to talk about font types. My favorites. My enemies. Comic Sans, for exampleâit was originally created for a cartoon speech bubble, and now itâs somehow hosting serious conversations on public posters. Who signed off on that? Who looked at Comic Sans and said, âYes, this is exactly the tone we need for our child custody flyerâ?
And kerning. Sweet code above, the kerning. Have you seen when an âLâ gets smashed too close to a âCâ? Itâs like watching two coworkers awkwardly bump into each other in a hallway. It feels wrong. And I see it everywhere.
And hereâs the part no one expects: I love the Wingdings font. I know. I know itâs basically unusable for normal people. But thereâs something magical about itâhow it speaks in a language no one speaks, how it insists on symbols in a world obsessed with words. Itâs weird and unapologetic and doesnât need to explain itself. I kind of admire that.
Iâve always had this urge to share thingsâfacts about animals, like how octopuses have neurons in their arms and crows remember faces, and elephants come back to grieve their dead. These details live in me like roommates. I carry them everywhere, even when no oneâs asking.
Sometimes lifeâs like a plug-in: one moment everythingâs humming along, and the next, something you relied on just stops working. No reason. No alert. Just silence and a blank space where something used to be.
But you refresh. You debug. You get back into the code.
Because even if no one else is on that level… I am.
And I think, finally, that might be enough.
_________________________________________
I wish every day could be this peaceful as today
– Me <3
°ââ.ŕłŕż*:ｼ
âŽ
âŻ
đđ
xoxo
friends forever â¨
I was always obsessed as a kidâwith the wrong things. Or maybe just things that didnât fit neatly into conversations, things people didnât really know how to respond to. Facts that got met with a blank stare or a quick subject change. I wanted to talk about HTML. I wanted to talk about how computers work, why I love animals, and how fonts can make you feel something.
Sometimes I even irritated myself.
It wasnât that I thought no one would listen. Itâs more that Iâve always had interests most people donât really like, and… thatâs okay. Iâm learning that itâs okay. My brain’s always been loud with connections no one else can see. I cared so much about things other people just didnât notice. Still do.
Even todayâa plug-in on my WordPress site just stopped working. Gone. No warning. One minute everythingâs fine, the next minute the site looks like it got into a bar fight with a 2006 MySpace page. No one around me really cared, and I didnât expect them to. I donât have many friends who worry about broken widgets or whether my footer aligns perfectly on mobile.
But I do.
It matters to me.
I want to talk about font types. My favorites. My enemies. Comic Sans, for exampleâit was originally created for a cartoon speech bubble, and now itâs somehow hosting serious conversations on public posters. Who signed off on that? Who looked at Comic Sans and said, âYes, this is exactly the tone we need for our child custody flyerâ?
And kerning. Sweet code above, the kerning. Have you seen when an âLâ gets smashed too close to a âCâ? Itâs like watching two coworkers awkwardly bump into each other in a hallway. It feels wrong. And I see it everywhere.
And hereâs the part no one expects: I love the Wingdings font. I know. I know itâs basically unusable for normal people. But thereâs something magical about itâhow it speaks in a language no one speaks, how it insists on symbols in a world obsessed with words. Itâs weird and unapologetic and doesnât need to explain itself. I kind of admire that.
Iâve always had this urge to share thingsâfacts about animals, like how octopuses have neurons in their arms and crows remember faces, and elephants come back to grieve their dead. These details live in me like roommates. I carry them everywhere, even when no oneâs asking.
Sometimes lifeâs like a plug-in: one moment everythingâs humming along, and the next, something you relied on just stops working. No reason. No alert. Just silence and a blank space where something used to be.
But you refresh. You debug. You get back into the code.
Because even if no one else is on that level… I am.
And I think, finally, that might be enough.
