It all started with a cupboard under the stairs. The one place no one ever thought to look for greatness. The whole Harry Potter saga was born from a world where, apparently, the most potent wizards are nurtured on a steady diet of expired cereal and underappreciation. I mean, what could possibly go wrong? As a Muggle (or, as I like to think of myself, a "magically challenged individual"), the Harry Potter series always felt like a subtle reminder that, yes, I could be living my best life—if only I'd received an owl instead of bills in the mail when I turned eleven. But alas, life decided I'd be better suited to navigating traffic jams and existential dread rather than broomsticks and basilisk battles. Speaking of battles, let’s talk about the Sorting Hat. That tattered old relic managed to sort out everyone’s deepest desires and future prospects with all the precision of a Magic 8-Ball. It's like a personality test, but with more theatrics. Imagine if we had that...
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.