Life has a strange sense of humor. Or maybe I’ve learned to laugh before it gets the chance to hurt. Whenever something serious happens in my life something that should demand silence, reflection, or grief I crack a joke. I perform. I act like I’ve rehearsed this moment before. And to be honest, I act well. People buy it. They move on. But when the noise settles, when the audience disappears, there’s always a quieter voice left behind. What are the possibilities to fix this? That question doesn’t knock. It barges in. My mind opens files instantly. Hundreds of them. Possibilities line up like witnesses in a courtroom some absurd, some brilliant, most useless. I replay conversations that already ended. I rewrite endings that no longer belong to me. I negotiate with time, knowing very well it doesn’t negotiate back. And when it’s done, when every argument has been heard, the verdict is always the same. Too late. Nothing changes. The moment has passed. The damage is archived. All ...
Let me ask you something: Have you ever felt that sharp, hot twist in your gut when someone else’s victory feels like a personal defeat? Like life handed them a golden ticket while you’re stuck holding a “try again later” scratch-off? Yeah. Me too. Let’s rewind. Picture this: It’s 3 AM. My laptop screen casts a ghostly glow as I stare at my 27th internship rejection email. The reason? “ Your three-month availability doesn’t align with our needs.” Translation: We want someone who’ll stick around long enough to memorize the coffee orders . I’m fresh out of graduation, armed with a master’s degree pursuit and a three-month void of what now? So, like any rational human, I do the thing. I open LinkedIn. Big. Mistake. Suddenly, my feed is a highlight reel of everyone else’s wins. Dia at Google. Faiyaz launching a startup. Emma's doing “meaningful work” in Bali (with a sunset backdrop, of course). My screen screams, Look at them thriving while yo...