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Where This Is Going (Mechanism, Not Prophecy)
Update January 2026
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Newsletter
The People We Almost Didn't See, Part 1: The Yazidi Genocide and the Pattern of Erasure
I hadn’t planned to be at a Yazidi protest. I talked with one man for minutes. They consented for me to write about this. Part of the series: Witnessing Without Sides I hadn’t planned to be at a Yazidi protest. I had just come from peace talks in
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The Ape Inside the Machine
On What We Forgot, What Never Changed, and How to Live Without Illusion There was a time in my life when the world felt coherent. Not perfect. Not painless. But coherent. I was small. I lived with my grandmother. When I was afraid, I could go to her. When I
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Outrage Feels Like Orientation (It Isn’t Repair)
Most people want a story where the guilty are elsewhere. Most people also want a story where the system can be changed without costing their stability. That desire is human. It is also one of the ways the machine keeps running. Because the machine doesn’t require anyone to be
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Staying Sane in an Overloaded World (2026 Rewrite)
Looking back without disowning ourselves In early 2025, I wrote an article asking whether what we were living through was collapse or evolution. This was when I had just started my official website. I was not writing from a steady place. My internal world was unstable, and the language I
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A MANIFESTO FOR LIVING INSIDE REALITY
This is the new direction of The Living Fractal. If you want to follow what I’m building here, subscribe so new essays, frameworks, and updates land in your inbox as they’re published. The “goodbye” you may have seen earlier was real, but it was goodbye to an older
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A Mature Way to Hold This: Seeing Clearly Without Becoming Hard
I woke up this morning already tired. Not the kind of tired that turns into productivity after coffee. The kind that feels like the nervous system has been doing night shifts. Lately has been difficult in a way that doesn’t come with a single cause you can point to
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Coming Back to Coherence: Why I Practice Islam
I want to begin with something simple and deeply personal. The first four years of my life were coherent. I lived with my grandmother. She gave me something I did not have words for at the time, but which I now understand as containment. Not control. Not perfection. Containment. She