My big brother has been on my case lately.
“Go out, meet some guys, pick a hot one for yourself!” he says, like I can just walk into a store and grab one off the shelf.
“Go wild! Have some fun!”
First of all, sir, I am having fun—just not the kind you’re thinking of. Apparently, my decision to mind my own business at home is causing his Viking blood to boil.
Honestly, I can relate to this feeling:
But for me, it’s more like, “There is absolutely nothing of interest for me out there in my city.” (Notice I said my city and not on earth—big difference.)
OK, let’s be real, I do love life. Plenty of things excite me: the scent of vanilla on my skin, the peace of walking on the beach, the thrill of catching a flight, the hope I feel when I stare up at the stars, convinced that one day, just maybe, I’ll reach one. And let’s not forget the Netherlands. Stroopwafels. Travel goals. So, yes, I love life—just not the social life in my city. Home is my sanctuary. It’s where I recharge, reflect, and write. It’s my creative space. And no, I don’t feel like I’m missing out.
The Year of Staying Put (And Trying Not to Lose My Mind)
If you’re wondering why I haven’t been travelling this year—
Well, I had to put my plans on hold because I was busy fighting for my face. My skin decided to betray me in 2019 with a massive acne breakout, and since then, my money has been flowing straight into the hands of dermatologists. (At this point, I should have a VIP membership.)
Thankfully, my skin has fully healed, but let me tell you, not travelling nearly drove me up the wall. Still, I had no choice but to be patient.
And let’s get one thing straight—I’m not the type to just “go out” for the sake of it. I can’t stand aimless socialising, let alone casual dating. It’s just not my thing. I’m also not a party animal—never have been, and never will be. People who know me well understand that I hate being out and about, surrounded by strangers. If a random guy approaches me? Instant nope. In fact, I’ve reached a point where I’m perfectly content being on my own. If anyone wants to change that, they better be extraordinary—because my patience for nonsense is at an all-time low.
So, when people don’t understand this about me, it annoys me. Why should I live my life based on what others think I should do? I’m happy with who I am right now and I intend to stay that way.
Hustle Culture? No Thanks.
Okay, storytime.
A few weeks ago, I was watching a TV series when a friend decided to drop some wisdom on me. “How do you expect to make more money if you’re not hustling enough?” he asked. Then, in a dramatic flourish, he added, “Watching TV is a waste of time.”
Excuse me, sir?
Look, I get it. He’s an entrepreneur. Money is everything to him. But to me? Life is more than just working non-stop. If “hustling” means never allowing myself to enjoy life, never resting, and never spending time with the people I love, then no, thank you. Sure, money is important—80% of my problems would be solved if I had more of it—but it’s not the only thing that matters.
Also, let’s be real—some people hustle their entire lives and still don’t make it big. Why? Because luck also plays a huge role. Two people can have the same talent, the same skills, and the same work ethic, but only one of them catches a lucky break. That’s just how life works. The only thing we can control is our effort, our preparation, and our mindset. So no, I’m not going to compare my life to someone else’s. My journey is mine, and I’m okay with that.
Jet Lagged, But Without Traveling
Lately, my sleeping schedule has been…well, nonexistent. 4:00 AM is either my bedtime or my wake-up time. At this point, I think I might be evolving into a nocturnal creature. Someone once told me,
“It’s like you’re permanently jet-lagged without ever leaving your house.”
Honestly? Fair assessment.
But truthfully, I don’t mind. Some of my best thoughts come to me in the middle of the night. The quiet helps me think, write, and create. And yes, maybe my sleep cycle is a disaster, but at least I’m happy.
And while we’re on the subject of happiness—there’s someone I need to mention. There’s this guy (yes, shocking, I know). He lives on the other side of the world, but despite that, he’s one of the few people I genuinely admire. He’s smart, funny, and somehow, no matter how exhausted I am, he always manages to make me laugh. We’ve been talking for a year now, and he’s probably the only man I’ve ever felt this comfortable with. Can I kidnap him already?
The Power of Words (And Why You Shouldn’t Be a Jerk About Music Preferences)
Right now, as I wrap up this post, I’m listening to It’ll Be Okay by Shawn Mendes. Beautiful song. (And yes, I do have excellent taste in music—fight me.)
Yesterday, I spent 4 hours trying to learn how to write poetry and song lyrics. End result? I remember nothing. Either it’s harder than it looks, or I just need more time (most likely the second one). But you know what? I’d love to write something as poetic as The Lakes by Taylor Swift one day. Cue the inevitable “ugh, your taste in music sucks” comments.
To those people: I do not care.
I listen to everything, but what really gets me is the words. I admire songwriters who can take raw emotions and turn them into something beautiful. That’s what writing is to me. Words have power. They can inspire, comfort, or even break someone. And if you’re the kind of person who makes someone feel stupid for their interests? Well, congratulations; you’re the worst.
So, yeah. I take words seriously—especially when it comes to anything heart-related.Â
Til next time.
X, Hani ♥