We carry too many
unspoken words.

So we wrote it down instead.

Not because it was profound. Not because it needed to mean something. Mostly because some thoughts get more interesting the longer you leave them alone.

Then we put one on a shirt.

And somehow that made sense.

Every piece since has come from the same place: observations, contradictions, thoughts you have at strange hours, things that are funny because they're true, and things you probably wouldn't say in a room full of people.

Written by hand. Worn on the back.

For the person behind you to read, agree with, disagree with, overthink for the next twenty minutes, or completely ignore.

Every shirt is a page. Every page is a confession.

Maybe it's a clothing brand.

Maybe it's just a philosophers's diary with a manufacturing problem.

— signed, philosopher's diary