Identity

The art must have a purpose other than itself, or it collapses into infinite recursion.

I’ve spent a lot of time confused about my own wiring. not in a debilitating way, more like an ongoing low grade puzzle that I kept returning to. the confusion had a specific shape: I knew I was deeply analytical, the kind of person who could sit with an idea for hours without needing it to go anywhere, who would trace a concept back to its roots just for the satisfaction of understanding it fully. but I also noticed I was restless whenever nothing was being made. not bored exactly. more like something in me would protest, ask what all this thinking was actually for.

Progress:  

One of the good things I lack in my life is receiving feedback. Usually, everyone assumes that I’m an expert at everything, and they tend to define the way of our communication based on my social presence (oh, that’s Ahmed, everyone likes this dude. he is amazing… etc) while the reality is significantly different. I know several quality skills, like anyone, without having superpowers, I know how to speak, communicate, but I guarantee you I’m not the best!, and there is alot that you don’t know about me.