“Leaving Cupertino feels like leaving a dream that got too clean. San Jose’s messier—but it’s mine again.”
— Wing
I’ve packed the last box.
Unplugged the desktop.
Took one last late-night walk past identical tech offices and empty sidewalks.
Cupertino served its purpose:
But by the end of 2024, I realized… I was orbiting the center, not living in it.
“June used to mean letting go. Now it feels like one more upload queue.”
— Wing
June used to have a shape.
Long shadows across sidewalks. The smell of plastic binders shoved into cardboard boxes. The static buzz of CRTs fading as schools powered down. You knew what June meant—an exhale.
But in 2023? The line between months is blurry. You don’t log off. You optimize.
Remember when “summer break” was a thing?
“They gave their lives. You get 15% off patio furniture.”
— Wing
Memorial Day, 2023.
For some, it’s the quietest morning of the year. Flags at half-mast. Graves visited. Names whispered.
For others, it’s promo code: FREEDOM23.
Originally called Decoration Day, it started after the Civil War—families placing flowers on graves. It wasn’t fireworks and grilling. It was silence. Stillness. A long look at the cost of conflict.
“In 2020 we clapped from balconies. In 2023, they’re still wearing trash bags in some hospitals.”
— Wing
It’s May 2023. National Nurses Week again.
The hashtags are back. The HR newsletters. The “thank you” banners with softly lit group photos.
But if you talk to an actual nurse today—really talk to one—you’ll find something sharper beneath the surface: fatigue, anger, and the quiet ache of betrayal.
Remember those first weeks?