Femto

Writing has always been my way of rebelling against the absurdity of existence, of laughing in the face of a world that never quite makes sense. I never set out to be profound or revolutionary, only to take things to their logical extremes and watch them crumble under their own weight. Whether it's satire, comedy, or something in between, my stories have always been an extension of that. A challenge to convention, a reflection of frustration, and at times, a desperate grasp for meaning in a universe that doesn't care.





Looking back, every piece I've written is a time capsule, a snapshot of who I was at that moment. Some are sharp, some are chaotic, some are outright disasters, but all of them are honest. They reflect the highs, the lows, the fleeting passions, and the bitter cynicism that have shaped me. Maybe that's the true purpose of writing. Not just to entertain, but to document the contradictions of being human. To leave behind a record of thoughts that might otherwise be lost to time.





Will I keep writing? I don't know. People change, and so do the stories they tell. But whether you've read my work with admiration, disdain, or sheer morbid curiosity, I appreciate the time you've spent here. If my words have entertained you, frustrated you, or distracted you from your burdens, even for a moment, then it was worth it.