Category: Inner Compass
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I know the last chapter was thick with metaphors—abysses, shadows, all that—but honestly, that’s the only way I know how to carry those memories. They weren’t just moments; they were allegories. I remember my childhood more vividly than most—but not in clear stories. I remember through feeling: the pain, the anger, the hollow sadness. The…
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They say 32 isn’t even middle age—still so much road ahead. But I was sprinting from scratch. My reset button wasn’t some midlife revelation—it was when someone told me, “If you’re so ashamed of your life, go kill yourself. I won’t support your education anymore.” That’s the moment the bubble popped. Reality hit like a…
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We always seem to have a beginning. The religious texts all start there—“In the beginning,” they say. The dawn of creation. The day the world begins. Our birthday. But no one ever talks about the ending. Or how we carry ourselves through the in-between. Let me say this plainly: I’m not trying to sound superior,…