It’s been months since I remembered Snapchat existed, but found myself on the app minutes after a barista rescued me from getting locked in the bathroom.

The office was empty that time, and the moment I realized my silliness, I was panicking, knocking on a door from the inside, but also laughing at myself. I saw that the handle was broken, but still shut the door as the inevitability of being locked didn’t click? (no pun intended)

It’s moments like these that make me reflect on how detached I can be from reality, and how long my brain can take to process surroundings.
And how we process and hold onto moments through sharing them. I didn’t end up sending this photo to anyone (I had a spreadsheet waiting to be filled), but I still felt the need to document it, to prevent it from getting lost amongst the expanding collection of 8,793 photos on my phone.

The over-thinker in me is also reflecting on how we store what we value, and how the value in what we store translates to accessibility — to having the comfort of memories being in reach even though they’re usually photo albums or journals collecting dust.

The past tucked away in the corner of the present, where we live.