My feet
I hardly pay attention to my feet. They're just there and carry me through life every day. Through long workdays, stressful times, beautiful moments, and all the little things of everyday life.
When I look at them today, I think: They don't have to be perfect. They belong to me. Even the a ...


It's strange: Even though I've already quit, I still feel obligated to see it through. It's as if an invisible yardstick is determining whether I'm acting 'correctly'.