Tales i tell

Lately, I’ve been thinking about silence. Not just the regular kind, the absence of noise, but the kind that settles inside you. The kind that creeps in when you’re alone at night, lying on your bed, phone facedown, and you just feel this weird stillness all around you. The kind of silence that makes you reflect on everything, or nothing, all at once. For me, this silence is oddly similar to something I’ve felt before in a game. It’s weird, I know. But it always takes me back to Skyrim. More specifically, to that cart ride. I’ve played a lot of games. I’ve tried escaping into open worlds, storylines, and choices I don’t always have in real life. But Skyrim ? Skyrim stayed with me. I think about that opening scene more than I probably should. You know, the one where you’re bound, gagged, nameless, and just watching the world pass by as you’re taken to your execution. That cart ride doesn’t just introduce you to the game; it mirrors real life in ways I wasn’t expecting. Yo...

For the past few months, my life revolved around two personal missions: Losing weight.& Completing a coding project that had haunted me with errors, bugs, and endless nights of troubleshooting. Every day, I was fighting on two fronts. During the day, I was meal prepping, tracking macros, and staying committed to clean eating  even when cravings hit or laziness kicked in. At night, when most people were winding down, I was staring at lines of code, hunting elusive bugs, and trying to understand why an error that didn’t exist yesterday was suddenly ruining everything. I kept telling myself, “Once I hit my goal weight… once I get this app working end-to-end… I’ll finally feel proud, fulfilled, complete.” Eventually, I got there.  I lost 10 kilos.  I launched the app I had been building for months. The code was clean, the compliments came in, and for the first time in a long while, I liked what I saw in the mirror. I thought hitting my goals would unlock some kind ...

Life goes on, whether we’re ready for it or not. A few months ago, I found myself stuck in a loop, waiting for things to change, for something big to happen. But somewhere along the way, I realized that change isn’t always loud or dramatic. Sometimes, it’s in the quiet moments the ones we often overlook. In the middle of all this, I found someone. For a brief moment, it felt like they were meant to be a part of my story. But just as quickly as they arrived, they were gone. At first, it felt like a loss. But then, I understood something important: you only truly lose someone who was yours. And if they weren’t, then maybe it was never really a loss, just a lesson. So, I moved on. I started appreciating the routine small joys like morning coffee, the way sunlight filters through my window, the comfort of familiar sounds. These everyday things, the ones I used to take for granted, became reminders that life is happening right now. Then, something unexpected happened. I found a new group th...