The grass on the other side really isn’t all that green, and the romance in the air defeats the purpose of hindsight.
The romanticised way of over-working for professional greatness is not for me
To live, is to regret. To not live, is to regret. But, what would you regret more?
In trying to relieve pain, I come face to face with a painful memory I realised I had never addressed.
How life being divided on the basis of genitals makes no sense
Facing the same moment twice makes me indulge in my special brand of nostalgia mixed with psychoanalysis
A letter about what I learnt over 7 years of mistakes and successes in relationships, for a person I may never send it to.
It’s easier to work with blinders on, diving deep into the job – but is it wise? Is it sustainable?