List 10 things you know to be absolutely certain.

Certainty is a dangerous drug. It’s for priests, politicians, and psychopaths with shiny shoes. People who need the illusion of control to keep from chewing their own tongues off. But even in the middle of this savage carnival, there are a few truths I can still clutch with my fingers.

1. The world is insane.

Not just a little crazy, but full-throttle batshit. Anyone telling you otherwise is either medicated or lying through their teeth. Embrace the chaos or get flattened by it.

2. Cameras don’t just capture images, they steal pieces of your soul.

Every shutter click is a deal with the devil. That’s why I keep shooting. Better to lose yourself in small doses than let the bastards take it all at once.

3. Time isn’t real.

It’s a rigged system invented by men in suits to keep you chained to a desk. Out in the wild knee-deep in mud, waiting for the light to hit just right, time evaporates. That’s the only truth worth chasing.

4. Most people are terrified of honesty.

Speak the raw, jagged truth and watch them squirm. They’ll call you crazy, cruel, unhinged. That’s how you know you’re getting somewhere.

5. Nature is the last sane thing left on this planet.

The trees don’t lie. The rivers don’t care about your mortgage or your follower count. Out there, you’re just another animal. And it’s glorious.

6. You can’t trust a man who doesn’t laugh at his own misery.

Humor is the last defense against the cosmic joke we’re all trapped in. Without it, you’re already dead.

7. Everyone’s addicted to something.

Power. Screens. Sugar. Validation. Me? I’m hooked on the perfect shot and the perfect sentence. Both are lethal in their own way.

8. The bastards in charge don’t know what they’re doing.

Never did, never will. The lighthouse keepers have all vanished, and the ships are crashing on the rocks. Somebody’s got to light the goddamn beacons.

9. You don’t find your voice. You fight for it.

It’s born in blood, sweat, and late nights staring at the blank page. And once you’ve got it, you hold on like hell.

10. Death is coming.

Maybe tomorrow. Maybe in 50 years. The only thing that matters is what you do before it shows up. Make it count or at least make it loud.

So there you have it. Ten certainties in a world that hates certainty. Scribble them on your bathroom mirror, tattoo them on your forearm, or ignore them completely. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.

The clock is melting. The bats are circling. And the highway ahead is wide open.