persephoneslibrary

i haven’t posted here since i was 17. i’m 26 now. in that time i got an english degree from oxford, two law degrees i don’t use, a dance degree for the hell of it, taught myself 6 languages, and realised i still don’t know what the fuck i’m doing.

but i am writing again. long-form essays about philosophy, art, literature, and the uncomfortable questions we pretend not to notice.

my first piece is about why humans can’t accept that some things might be unknowable - why we’ve replaced religious certainty with scientific certainty, why the james webb images made us immediately say “we’ll figure this out,” why omniscience has become humanity’s greatest addiction.

my newsletter is called vestige. it’s pretentious and sincere in equal measure. all of my essays open with an “inspired by” section (think: coffee stains, candle smoke, the humiliation of epistemic limits) and end with full bibliographies because yes i am actually insufferable.

i forgot it existed.

it’s been asleep while i became someone else, someone i’m still figuring out.

i don’t know if anyone’s still here. but i am.