...that a haircut, a good book, and a pair of shoes that really fit are the luxuries of the lower middle class.

...that ‘grace under pressure’ isn’t the same thing as ‘competence in a crisis.’

...that the act of taking photos of yourself is the height of vapid stupidity and unchecked vanity. I wanna see a picture someone else took of you looking like a fresh bag of shit. Then I can know who you are.

…that until organizations realize that treating adults like wayward children destroys morale, creativity, and basic human joy, the micromanager will continue to loom—hovering, nitpicking, doubting, draining, controlling—like the world’s least charismatic supervillain.

...that absence may make the heart go fonder but it also makes the bone grow harder.

...that we’re all just one bad decision from oblivion.

...that, if LiterateApe was suddenly put in charge of CBS, ’60 Minutes’ would features stories of divorce, masturbation, the death of radio, and farts.

...that technology is a brilliant liar—it convinces us we’re connected while quietly sterilizing our souls.

...that knowing when to let go of people who have already let go of you is good. Actually letting them go and moving on is better.

...that in an age where every word is a potential weapon and every hurt feeling a crime scene, the loudest moralists aren’t protecting the vulnerable—they’re auditioning for the Inquisition.

...that my next tattoo will be something along the lines of “Expect Nothing. Hope for Everything.”

...that the phrase “Just loop me in” is corporate code for “I want to handcuff myself to your brain until one of us dies.”

...that most teenage boys learn about sex from porn and most teenage girls learn about it from trauma and somewhere in between is a guidance counselor with a pamphlet and a panic disorder.

...that the algorithm is our new God—omniscient, invisible, and deeply invested in selling me socks I already bought. It knows my shame, my lust, my 3am spiral into videos titled ‘Top Ten Failed Soviet Amusement Parks’. It knows I clicked. It remembers. It doesn’t forgive.