OMG like…

Santa? muted.

Notifications? literally off.

I’m in airplane mode but emotionally first class.

Mariah Carey is defrosting again,

but I’m not available for seasonal attachment.

Tree pics are cute,

but I don’t post—

I observe.

Big “I don’t need to prove anything” energy.

Everyone’s screaming “Best night ever!!”

and I’m sipping something beige in a mug

that says Good Vibes Only

while mentally unfollowing half the planet.

I didn’t disappear,

I just became…

selectively visible.

Like, if you know, you know.

If you don’t—

that’s kind of the point, babe.

Couples everywhere,

performing happiness in 4K.

Meanwhile I’m glowing softly

from my laptop screen,

tabs open, future loading,

skin? clear.

plans? pending.

Texts like “where are you??”

LOL no.

Seen at 2:14am.

No reply.

Silence is a whole lifestyle choice.

No drama,

no wrapping paper trauma,

no forced joy.

Just me,

main character energy,

walking past December

like it’s a pop-up store I didn’t ask for.

Morning comes,

I post nothing,

tag no one,

and somehow still win.

Silent night.

Low effort.

High altitude.

Please don’t look for me during the holidays.

Like—actually don’t.

No “just checking in,” no accidental DMs,

no blurry group photos zoomed in for clues.

I’m not missing,

I’m just…

elsewhere adjacent.

Off the grid but moisturized.

The city is glowing,

everyone’s performing joy in public beta,

and I’m choosing private mode

with a ceramic mug and zero explanations.

If you call my name,

it’ll echo back as auto-reply energy.

If you send coordinates,

my location will simply say vibes.

I’m not hiding badly—

I’m hiding well.

The kind of well that looks intentional,

curated,

and slightly unattainable.

Snow, lights, playlists titled magic—

love that for you.

I’m busy doing nothing

with extreme confidence.

So yeah,

don’t search,

don’t triangulate,

don’t ask around.

I’ll reappear when the season forgets me,

unbothered,

unchased,

and inexplicably ahead.