My country returns to chaos, with politics exhausting me and years wasted on media obsessions.
Making a website that no one would see and that no one cared about was harder 30 years ago, but worth it in the long run.
Impostor syndrome haunts me as a high school dropout, often seen as less capable than those who spent years learning their craft.
Catcher in the Goddam Rye is a book about assholes for assholes.
When someone says "bad luck," I think of cognitive distortions. Superstitious people navigate life, playing a silly game with luck, blaming fate when convenient.
In our family, we weren't like John Wayne's idealized figures. Eastwood's Man with No Name taught me that true intentions can be hidden and complex.
On 9/11/2001, I was asleep and late for work when a phone call woke me with the news of the attacks, marking my first 'I remember where I was' moment.
While listening to self-help audiobooks, I discovered the importance of focusing on the next actionable step to alleviate mental clutter and enhance productivity.
I'm terrified of my three-year-old son's imaginary friend, "Toots." It seems harmless, but what if this character is actually a dead gangster from the 20s?
