Almost, and Then Gone
Between Vienna and Metro Center, a passing stranger and a confused March sky make a quiet case against trying to calculate what was never meant to be solved.
Randomness, probability, risk, decision-making under uncertainty
Between Vienna and Metro Center, a passing stranger and a confused March sky make a quiet case against trying to calculate what was never meant to be solved.
The word WE does a lot of heavy lifting for two letters—conjuring committees, consensus, and coordinated sunglasses, while I just stands at the bratwurst stand, squinting.
Every day is a small sequence of guesses — and the toast will burn anyway.
A loud stranger on a quiet metro reminds me that we plan the future as if it’s obedient, even while it keeps slipping its hand from ours
One person’s meditation on aliens, uncertainty, and the quiet absurdity of trying to calculate a universe that barely explains itself
A meditation on astrology, physics, and probability that argues our lives are shaped less by destiny than by noise, tendency, and the stories we tell about both
An ordinary life—coffee purchases, missed houses—reveals how quietly and consistently our decisions are shaped by the invisible rules of behavioral economics.
A reflection on how randomness runs through parking lots, marriages, and money—reminding us control is limited and explanations are fragile.
Every choice you make is a bet under uncertainty while understanding probability, expected value, and your edge turns blind gambling into strategic advantage
Life’s a chase for fleeting thrills—whether iPhones or kisses—always rising, always fading.