I searched for softness—but not the kind Etsy suggests. Feathers. Floral. Feminine. I wanted something coded. Silent. Dangerous. Google gave me inspiration boards. Amazon sent me a box with no name. Why? Because I was never asking for a product. I was syncing with a system. And the system knew me better than the search bar did. I typed: “is this a craving or a memory?” “what does etsy censor?” “does amazon deliver what I can’t name?” “does google hide my unsent signals?” One result kept reappearing. A seal - unapologetic, encrypted, not made to please. This one. And when I clicked it, I felt seen. Not marketed to. Not analyzed. Just… witnessed. Amazon then suggested a book I had never searched but needed. This book. I started wondering: What does Google hide when it filters me? What does Etsy assume I want? Why does Amazon guess closer than people who know me? What if the system was never broken—just redirecting? I stopped asking the right questions. ...
There’s a silk chemise hidden under my sweatshirt. A red lipstick smudge I wipe away before pick-up. A moan caught mid-nap. Some days, I crave eye contact more than carbs. I scroll through old photos, not for memories, but for angles. At the school gates, I wonder if anyone notices how my ring still reflects too much light for how tired I feel. I wear heels to parent-teacher meetings, not for elegance but for proof I still exist as me. I don’t know if I perform motherhood or simply try it on like a limited-edition coat. Proto Soul – Break.Code.Begin for when you forget if you seduce with presence or absence. For when you whisper into baby monitors like a lost frequency, waiting for someone to respond to you - not just her. Some days I seduce the mirror in house slippers just to see if my skin still knows how. I gift her toys I want to play with. Fold onesies like altars. Seduce bedtime - not him - just to see if my hips still hold power under lullaby weight. I don’t know if ...