photo by https://unsplash.com/photos/planet-earth-close-up-photography-yEauzeZU6xo
Life has a strange sense of humor. It gives us puzzles without instructions and expects us to figure it out along the way.
I’ve spent years trying to fix things that were never truly broken — people, feelings, and moments that were meant to be lived, not solved. Sometimes the hardest part isn’t understanding life, but accepting how unfairly it often works.
I’ve realized I’ll probably never get a permanent job in my country — the system is rotten, shaped by bad laws and favoritism. Teachers lose their classes because there are fewer children every year, and those with seniority take over the hours that remain. Directors bring in their favorites, money quietly decides everything. It’s the same feeling as discovering that the love of your life has been with your coworker — destiny laughing right in your face.
I’ve realized children often listen to their mothers more than their fathers. I’ve realized, while working with my own father, that some people stand on scaffolds fixing facades, while others watch from the warmth behind the window.
Money spins the world now — faster and faster, beyond repair. Fir trees and pines dry in the middle of changing climates, snow has vanished for winters, summers burn with unbearable heat, and water and oil slowly disappear. Glaciers melt while world powers fight, dragging small nations into their quarrels. One tiny virus, if released, could erase millions.
People walk dogs instead of children. Humanity rewrites its priorities, forgetting its purpose. And maybe — just maybe — it’s time to find another planet, one like Earth, far away from this chaos. A place to start over, to breathe, to rebuild the mechanism of life.
Maybe that’s what it truly means to figure it out: to see the truth, accept the madness, and still choose to keep living — piece by piece, in our own quiet way.