OXYGEN

$OXYGEN

You ever notice how you’re always short of air? Not the kind from trees. The other kind. The kind that leaves your chest when rent is due. The kind that gets thin when you text “I’m fine” and delete it three times. The kind you lose at 2am scrolling, comparing, pretending. So we made Oxygen. It’s a clear Ziploc bag. Empty. No filter. No app. No 12-step plan. Just air. You pay for it because paying makes you notice it. You hold it and remember: inhale. Exhale. You read the word “oxygen” on the front and suddenly your shoulders drop an inch. This isn’t about survival. You’re already breathing. This is about remembering you deserve to. 200 emotions in one bag. Anxiety, relief, grief, hope, rage, peace — pick one. We bottled nothing, so you could fill it with everything. Oxygen. Buy nothing. Feel everything.