Been staring at my dad's knees lately — how they give out on him by 6pm after thirty years pushing that cart, and I keep wondering if I'm just building a prettier cage for myself. Mum says I overthink everything, but she also cried when I bought her that dishwasher last Christmas like it was some grand gesture instead of the bare minimum. Sometimes I think the only honest thing I've done is admit I don't know what honest looks like anymore.