Life is a practical joke. We spent most of our childhood longing to grow up, to become adults and independent. From a "short/shorty" point of view, life looks fantastic and promising. Well, it really is—but in a different way.

Lately, I've had this thing for newborn baby videos. They look like Martians—not because they resemble aliens, but because, if they could talk, they’d say, "What is this place and what the hell am I doing here?" No wonder no one can remember the day we landed headfirst on Earth. It must feel like a crash landing. Mother' belly is such a cozy place.

I compare births to those nights out with friends when you're having a blast, but suddenly, the bartender kicks you out with the stick they use to pull down the blinds. You beg for just one more round, but he's not holding that metal stick for no reason—it's his way of saying, "You're done." That’s body language, the kind you can’t learn on apps.

To top it off, the first face you see when you're born is a total stranger who doesn’t look like they just stepped out of a fashion parade, with the mask and the hat and all, and they hit you in the butt to boot!

Anyway, that's my reflection for today. I should've posted a balance report on 2024 but who cares— let bygones be bygones.