09/01/2026
Yesterday I went to the grocery store to buy apples. Around me, Valentine’s Day has already started its full rehearsal - potted plants, bottles of bubbly, piles of cards practicing scripted affection in advance. Everything feels falsely seamless, almost obedient. Life moving forward with such confidence, as if nothing is fractured, as if nothing is burning.
I can’t reconcile that choreographed reality with the images circulating on social media - a young mother shot in the face, one among too many innocent victims of the spreading madness overtaking the world. I don’t know how to walk inside this split reality, where celebration and devastation have learned to coexist without touching. As a collective humanity, we are not worthy of any imagined paradise.
Eve’s Apple
