A cream t-shirt printed with the line: I won an argument that never happened.

For minds that replay, rethink, second-guess and spiral.

And the people who know them by heart.

292 sentences like this one, printed on things you'd own anyway.

A framed print leaning on a desk beside a mug, a notebook and a canvas tote.

Not a reminder

It's not a reminder. It's a mug.

Wear the one that says me. Keep the one that knows you too well. Give the one you read and instantly thought of someone.

Tees, hoodies, sweatshirts, mugs, posters, phone cases and totes. From $22.

Hands around a mug printed with: I did nothing. It took everything.
Two people on a sofa seen from behind; one leans forward and rests a hand on the other, who sits still.

For someone else

Sometimes the sentence isn't yours.

You read it and you know exactly whose it is. Your sister. Your partner. The friend whose particular brain you know almost as well as they do.

A way to say I know you without making it a whole thing.

Why this exists

Your mind already gives you enough to deal with. You don't have to give yourself more.

Nobody lowers their voice to say their knee hates stairs.

Minds do things too. Those just get said quieter, or not at all.

We put them on ordinary objects until they're ordinary out loud.

Where this came from

It didn't start as a store.

It started with loving someone whose mind can turn an ordinary Tuesday into something extraordinarily demanding — and noticing how much of it he kept to himself, and how much smaller it got on the days he didn't have to.

That's why this exists.

The longer version

A person walking away down a corridor towards a window.

292 sentences. One of them is already yours.