The Book of Randoms— Part II

Article one: Welcome to the age of speed

We live in an age where speed is valued over learning due to the demands of technology, competition, and a culture of instant gratification. Technology prioritizes quick results, businesses reward efficiency over depth, and society pressures us to keep up with fast-paced progress. True learning—slow, deliberate, and reflective—feels at odds with these values.

The economy drives this focus on speed, mistaking access to information for understanding. That’s why we never truly learn anything about anyone or any fact—everything stays surface-level. And that’s why you don’t care about what I write or say, because in this fast-paced world, we’re often simply not in the mood to slow down and engage deeply. While speed offers convenience, it sacrifices depth, leading to burnout and shallow knowledge. To counter this, we can choose to value curiosity, embrace slower learning, and focus on meaningful growth over quick results.

Article two: You just didn’t know me

I didn’t know you—not because I didn’t try, or because you were hidden behind walls, but because in this world of fleeting moments and fragmented conversations, knowing someone deeply has become a rarity. You were there, but I wasn’t fully present. We exchanged words, shared experiences, but I never stopped long enough to truly listen, to peel back the layers that make you, you. In the rush to move from one task to the next, I missed the chance to understand the intricacies of your heart and mind.

And maybe that’s because people never really knew me either. No one ever figured me out. I’ve always been a puzzle—small pieces scattered, connections unclear, and the bigger picture too complex to understand. I’ve spent so much time in the background, observing, reacting, but never fully allowing anyone to see me for who I truly am. Maybe they looked, but they never saw—the true me, hidden behind walls I built to protect myself from being misunderstood.

It’s not that I was unknowable. I was always there, waiting to be discovered, but no one ever took the time to look beyond the surface, to ask the right questions or to see the depth of what I was hiding. The world moves too fast, and people are too busy racing ahead, never slowing down to stop and truly understand another soul. In the rush to check boxes and meet expectations, no one ever really stopped to get to know me, and I let that happen. I didn’t let anyone see the real me because I didn’t trust they’d want to, or perhaps because I feared they'd never be able to truly understand.

I didn’t know you because I didn’t stop long enough to try. And in that, I missed the essence of who you were. But maybe you didn’t know me either, because we were both just passing ships in a sea of distractions—too afraid, too hurried, too distant. And that's a loss I’ll carry with me—a reminder of how easily we can be surrounded by people and still remain unseen.

But it doesn’t have to be that way. It’s never too late to slow down, to let go of the barriers, and finally let someone see us for who we truly are.

 

Article three: was it worth it?

Was it worth it? Hurting someone just because you could, just because the world felt distant, like it wasn’t real to you, like the sting of another’s pain didn’t register?

Maybe, for a moment, there was a cold satisfaction—power, control, the feeling that you were untouchable, above it all. You might’ve watched them crumble, felt the rush of having the upper hand, their suffering reflecting something you couldn’t grasp in yourself. But then—then what? What’s left when the dust settles, when the adrenaline fades, and all that’s left is the hollow echo of something you’ve done?

You’ve hurt them, and maybe, for a while, you didn’t care. But somewhere inside, it eats at you. Not in the way a person with empathy might feel—it's not that gnawing, raw guilt—but something deeper. The realization that you broke something in them that may never fully heal. That the pieces they lost may never come back. And even if you can't feel it, there's a part of you that knows it, that knows the weight of that loss.

You’ve hurt them, but you’ve also hurt yourself. In ways you can’t fully comprehend, the act of damage, the distance you’ve created, changes the world around you. You become a shadow in your own life, distant from the very connections you might crave. You might wonder, when you stare into the mirror: Can you ever come back from this?

It wasn’t worth it. No matter how cold your mind was, no matter how numb you felt, it never really was. Not when you look at the wreckage left in the wake of your actions—because hurting someone isn’t just about them. It’s about you, too. And in the end, that emptiness, that regret, that loneliness? It’s yours to carry. And there’s no running from it.

Article four: I am still a woman you know….

I’m here to tell you something that’s been on my mind for a while. Writing and blogging, for me, are powerful outlets. They allow me to share my thoughts, dive into creativity, and express my emotions in ways that feel liberating. But let me tell you something—no matter how much I love writing, it doesn't take away from my love for jewelry, shoes, and makeup.

These aren’t just material things to me. They’re an extension of who I am. Every piece of jewelry I wear holds meaning—whether it’s a memory or just a little sparkle that makes me feel special. My shoes? They’re not just for walking; they’re my confidence, my stride, my way of taking on the world. And makeup—it’s not just about the products I use, it’s about transformation. It’s how I express a part of myself that words sometimes can't fully capture.

Now, don't get me wrong—I love writing. It’s my way of communicating with the world, of making sense of my thoughts, and telling my story. But the love I have for these things—jewelry, shoes, makeup—those are the pieces of me that connect with who I am on a deeper level. When I wear that necklace or step into my favorite heels, it’s not just about the look—it’s about how it makes me feel. It’s about the confidence it brings, the mood it sets.

So, to anyone out there who might feel like they need to choose between the things they love or think that one passion is more important than the other—I’m here to tell you, it’s all a part of who we are. Writing, fashion, beauty—they can all exist together. They complement each other, they don’t compete. They’re pieces of the same puzzle, and each one is just as important.

 

Article five:  Just stop, it’s not nice

It’s time we stop. It’s time to stop seeing people as objects, as things to be reduced to their appearance or their gender, something to be judged solely on how they look. We need to recognize that every individual deserves to be seen for who they truly are—not just for what they wear, how they speak, or how they present themselves.

Sexualizing people—whether through inappropriate comments, objectifying looks, or reducing someone to their physical attributes—takes away their agency, their autonomy, and their dignity. When we reduce someone to just their body, we ignore the complexity, the personality, and the experiences that make them a whole, unique person.

We live in a world where media often perpetuates these narrow, harmful standards. But we can change that. We can choose to see each other as more than a face, more than a body, more than a reflection of some idealized image. It’s time we look beyond the surface and truly see each other for the rich, multi-dimensional people we are.

When we stop sexualizing people, we open the door to deeper respect. We move away from harmful stereotypes, unrealistic expectations, and the toxic idea that someone’s worth can be reduced to their appearance. Every person has a right to exist in the world freely and fully, without fear of being objectified.

Let’s make the world a space where respect is the norm, where people are valued for who they are, not just what they look like. It’s time to stop sexualizing people—and start truly seeing them.

 

Article six: Can you see me?

Do you see me now? Really see me—not just the surface, not just the outward image you’ve been taught to judge, but the entirety of who I am. The thoughts that shape my world, the experiences that have built me, the dreams I chase, and the strength I carry. Do you see me as more than a body, more than a momentary glance, more than the sum of my features?

When we stop reducing people to stereotypes, when we stop sexualizing and objectifying, we create a space where true connection is possible. So, do you see me now? I am not a thing to be judged or a label to be attached. I am a person, deserving of the same respect, dignity, and understanding that we should offer everyone.

Look deeper. See me for who I truly am—and let that be the start of something real.