I recently stumbled across the movie Sound of Metal.

If you haven’t seen it, do.

Misleading as the title may seem, it’s not about head-banging and delving down into coarse throat singing while hitting high octanes only a cat in distress is capable of doing.

When the Titanic left the Harland & Wollf shipyard in Belfast and entered the choppy Irish sea for the first time on 2, April 1912, Thomas Andrew, the chief naval architect, had no doubt in his mind it would pass its trials and be declared seaworthy. After all, rumours were floating around for months before its arrival in Southampton that it was the ship that was unsinkable.

Everybody loves to dream big and let their mind wander to the fantastic. In my opinion, somewhat generalised, there seems to be a distinction between a man and a woman’s idea of fantasy.

I don’t Netflix and Chill, however, I do enjoy the slow immersion of podcasts. I auto-subscribe to a checkerboard diet to level up my health, wealth, and wisdom like it’s some superpower.

The first response always given when something terrible happens to someone is: Why? Why me? Why now? Why not him or her? Why on earth? Why, why, why?