Funny how life casts you in roles you never auditioned for. Me? Always the background character — the reliable extra who’s there, but never quite seen . Like a houseplant nobody remembers to water but somehow still alive. I hold the umbrella when no one wants to get wet, carry groceries nobody remembers, and pop up just in time to fix problems — then disappear faster than free food at a meeting. It’s a strange kind of existence: essential, but uncredited. Honestly, I’m beginning to think my superpower is perfecting the art of invisibility... or maybe just excellent at hiding behind the snacks. Sometimes I wonder if I’m secretly an invisible superhero. Not the cape-wearing kind — more like the person who makes sure the coffee’s brewed and the Wi-Fi doesn’t throw a tantrum. Meanwhile, the spotlight hits, and I’m already offstage, watching from the wings — probably scrolling through my phone pretending to be busy. Exhausting, really. But maybe that’s the point — being background means ...
I dwell in the spaces where shadows meet light, where questions outnumber answers. A seeker of truths buried deep, I write to unearth what lies beneath the surface. In the chaos, I find my voice. In the silence, I find myself.