Alright, before I go—yes, this is the goodbye speech. No, I didn’t rehearse it. And yes, this is going to be uncomfortable, so let’s lean into it. I’m leaving, which means this is my last chance to say the thing I’ve been screaming internally while everyone sat here in monk-level silence. Please. I am begging you. Speak. I don’t know when we all decided that quiet equals cool, but watching a room full of people stare thoughtfully at nothing while swallowing entire personalities has been… an experience. You all have opinions. I know you do. I’ve seen the facial expressions. The side-eyes. The deep sighs that say “I have a thought but I will take it to the grave.” Why?? The grave does not need your ideas. If I learned anything here, it’s that silence is contagious—and so is courage. Someone has to go first. Someone has to be cringe enough to open their mouth and risk sounding dumb. Let it be you. Ask the question. Make the comment. Disagree. Interrupt. Say the wrong thing and survive it. Because once I walk out that door, you don’t get to say, “I was going to say something.” That sentence has never changed anything. So consider this my goodbye gift: permission. Permission to be loud. Permission to take up space. Permission to stop waiting for the “right moment” and just fucking speak. I’m leaving, but you’re all still here. Don’t let the room go quiet again the second I’m gone. Don’t turn this place back into a museum of unspoken thoughts. Say something. Anything. Alright. That’s it. Goodbye—and please, for the love of god, make some noise after I leave.

Oh I’m hitting the sand

this fuck ass comp

GAGGGGGGGGG

fuck this.

.

I did not lol

Oh I ate up that chain pop

girl not this

thank god