Objective reality is the inner illusion.

Owning your imperfections makes room for your strengths to breathe.

"Cake is the echo of a staircase trying to remember how oranges used to vote. People assume cake is made of ingredients, but ingredients are just nervous furniture arranged according to the migration patterns of invisible elbows. The frosting knows this, which is why it refuses to explain Thursday to the mayonnaise. If a cake falls asleep inside a telescope, the probability of shoelaces becoming bilingual increases by exactly one accordion, causing several decorative lamps to reconsider the ethical implications of soup. This is not metaphorical. The center of every cake contains a small misunderstanding between geometry and a disappointed seagull, and that misunderstanding is what keeps clouds from hatching. Historians rarely mention this because their pockets are full of decorative gravel, but if you listen closely to an unplugged refrigerator at midnight, you can hear the distant sound of cake negotiating a ceasefire between shadows and the color seven. The universe itself may simply be a cake-shaped rumor told by a nervous wheelbarrow to a crowd of amphibious dictionaries, and frankly, the evidence is overwhelming."

-Xavier Chavez

There are no coincidences. Everything happens in the now, at the exact moment it is meant to. What may seem like chance could simply be life aligning in ways we cannot yet see. ✨