By Shaun K. Was it empathy that hollowed out the culture? Or the fear of giving up control?   America’s Missed Recipe America really did have the recipe to  actually be the “land of the free,” but it spoiled the moment colonizers were mistaken for honorable men. The first big betrayal wasn’t just slavery or segregation—it was the broken promise to Native people. When Andrew Jackson rallied white settlers on hatred for Native success and pushed through the Indian Removal Act, that was the fork in the road.   If that promise had actually been kept, if that moment of coexistence had been nurtured and preserved, maybe America really could’ve been the melting pot it claimed to be. But white supremacy, forced labor, and the gatekeeping power made sure that freedom wasn’t shared equally. Even when people fought their way out of oppression, the system found new ways to hold them down.   The Weirdness of Whiteness White people didn’t just control land and labor—they reshaped the whole vibe of the world. And it’s not an eerie feeling, it’s just… weird. Something about how space, time, and even culture got flattened into grids and aesthetics.   Land cut into suburbs. Families repackaged into sitcoms. Even emotions got marketed and sanitized. It’s intriguing, but not in a good way—it feels like reality was rebranded to match a vision of order and dominance. That disconnect is the weirdness we all live inside now.   From Loud to Sterile The arc is clear when you look at aesthetics. From the 1920s through the 80’s, white America was loud. Neon signs, busy wallpapers, station wagons, sitcom families. Messy, chaotic, but still warm.    Then the 90s and early 2000s hit with color and texture—hip-hop, Black sitcoms, global pop culture. For a moment, the culture felt alive and vibrant, even as corporations quietly siphoned it for profit.   But by the late 2000’s and early 2010’s a new rebrand crept in. Logos flattened. Fashion went beige. Houses turned into sterile gray boxes. Instagram filters muted everything. Wealth whispered instead of shouted. The Kardashian image replaced the lived-in family home.   Now nostalgia itself is a craving—people long for clutter, mess, and warmth, because the modern world feels too curated to be real.   The White Savior Illusion At the same time, the white savior trope quietly took over. In the 2010s, white creators started speaking up for marginalized groups—but usually without actually including them. When they did, it was through stereotypes they grew up with, not lived experiences.   They dramatized trauma, stamped “diversity” on it, and sold it back to the mainstream. Some may have started with good intentions, but capitalism made the whole thing feel watered down. What could have been solidarity became branding.   It wasn’t representation—it was projection. It wasn’t centering—it was circling. And audiences felt the difference, even if they couldn’t always explain it.   The Alt-Right Mirror On the other end of the spectrum, the alt-right rose as the equal and opposite reaction. Where the savior complex dressed up white dominance as empathy, the alt-right branded it as defense   Through memes, dog whistles, YouTube spirals, and irony-poisoned jokes, young white men were radicalized into believing they were the victims. Resentment became identity. Humar became cover. And just like the savior trope, it all got commodified into clicks, merch, and influence.   Both ends feed each other. The hollowness of corporate “wokeness” gives the alt-right its ammo. And the cruelty of the alt-right gives the savior crowd its moral high ground. Either way, whiteness stays centered. Conclusion: Nothing Feels Real, But Everything Still Matters   The deeper I look at culture—who’s shaping it, who’s selling it, and who’s left out—the more it feels like we’ve been living in a loop. Projection, performance, power, fear.   The white savior rewrites struggle into marketable empathy. The alt-right reframes resentment into identity. Both are part of the same broken system, a system where nothing feels authentic, even when it’s lou, colorful, or branded as progress   Bu the weirdness is’nt juts a glitch—it’s a signal. A reminder that warmth, community and authenticity are worth craving because they should be normal. Clarity isn’t paranoia—it’s the first step back toward something real.       This is one of those thoughts I needed to pull out of my head and put somewhere. If you’ve ever felt the “weirdness” too, let me know what it stirs in you.

By Shaun K. The loneliness isn’t just about being different — it’s about being told you’re unworthy of being seen. Here’s the part that quietly devastates me: If the world didn’t obsess over “normal,” so many disabled and neurodivergent people wouldn’t feel like love is something they have to earn. The stigma doesn’t just impact how others see them — it warps how they see each other. It creates this false hierarchy where the goal becomes “finding someone normal,” instead of someone compatible, someone safe, someone who gets it. And when “normal” becomes the goal — not connection, not mutual understanding, not joy — you end up looking past the people who could actually love you in return. Because you’ve been told — subtly or loudly — that you and others like you are wrong. What If We Changed the Narrative? But what if we never told that lie? What if no one was conditioned to believe their value was based on how close they are to so-called “normal”? What if disabled people weren’t socially taught to seek love upward — but laterally? What if they looked around, not up? How many people right now are aching for someone who feels like them but walking past those people because society told them: you’re not whole unless someone typical chooses you? That’s not love. That’s social programming. Let Me Be Clear — This Isn’t About “Dating Within Your Pool” I’m not asking disabled or neurodivergent people to just “stick to their kind” — because in a world without stigma, there would be no such kind. There wouldn’t be a “pool” to stay in or out of. There’d just be people. Minds. Bodies. Stories. Needs. Compatibility. Nothing more, nothing less. But that kind of openness starts with removing the concept of “normal.” It starts with everyone — disabled, neurodivergent, chronically ill, non-disabled, “neurotypical,” whoever — stopping the hierarchy altogether. The spectrum has to be accepted as just a spectrum. Not a scale. Not a ladder. Not a judgment system. Just range. This isn’t a “try dating within your pool” post. That’s the kind of crap people say when they want to politely tell you they don’t think you deserve more — the same thing they say to “ugly” people when they’re too cowardly to admit how deep their own bias goes. No. This is a burn-the-pool-down post. A reminder that there is no real boundary between who is lovable and who isn’t — only the ones we invent and enforce. And the spectrum, when viewed without stigma, is just what it always was: a range of minds and people, without rankings. Everyone belongs. The idea that someone doesn’t — that’s the sickness. Loneliness Isn’t Always About Being Alone — Sometimes It’s About Being Misdirected There are disabled people, neurodivergent people, chronically ill people — all looking for love, all with so much to give — and yet many feel like they’re in exile. Not because they’re incapable of love, but because the idea of “normal” fractured their self-worth and distorted their lens. If the world stopped treating difference like failure, we might not just see a more inclusive society — we might see more genuine love stories. Ones that aren’t built around proving worth. Ones that start from shared humanity instead of hidden shame. We think we have a loneliness epidemic. But maybe what we really have is a misunderstood people epidemic. People who’ve been taught to crave a version of belonging that was never meant to include them. Ask yourself honestly: Have you ever rejected your own needs or your own people because someone told you they weren’t normal enough — or because you were taught you weren’t? The Importance of Connection Connection is vital. It’s not just about finding someone to share your life with; it’s about recognizing that everyone has their own story. Each of us carries our own burdens, our own joys, and our own quirks. When we embrace our differences, we open the door to deeper connections. We learn to appreciate the unique perspectives that each person brings to the table. This is where true love and understanding blossom. Imagine a world where everyone felt free to express themselves without fear of judgment. A world where love isn’t conditional, but rather a natural extension of our shared humanity. Reframing Our Perspectives It’s time to reframe how we view ourselves and each other. Instead of striving for an unattainable standard of “normal,” let’s celebrate our differences. Let’s recognize that each of us has something valuable to offer. When we shift our focus from comparison to connection, we create a more inclusive environment. We foster relationships that are built on mutual respect and understanding. What if we could redefine love? What if it wasn’t about fitting into a mold, but about celebrating the beautiful chaos of our lives? Finding Your Tribe Finding your tribe is essential. Surround yourself with those who understand and accept you. Seek out individuals who resonate with your experiences and values. This doesn’t mean isolating yourself within a specific group. It means creating a community where everyone feels valued and seen. A space where differences are celebrated rather than shunned. Remember: You are worthy of love and connection, just as you are. Conclusion: Embracing Our True Selves In conclusion, the journey to understanding loneliness and connection is ongoing. It requires us to challenge societal norms and redefine what love means. Let’s strive to create a world where everyone feels seen, heard, and valued. A world where love is abundant and unconditional. Together, we can break down the barriers that keep us apart. Together, we can build a future where everyone belongs.

By Shaun K. The whole idea of questioning an external entity for answers — whether it’s a god, a text, or a guru — it’s complete bullshit. Not because the questioning or the questions themselves are wrong, but because the answers are always left open to interpretation. And with interpretation there comes justification. That’s how religion gets twisted into something that doesn’t actually work for you, but instead against you.   When people rely on an outside source for their sense of morality, they give themselves cover. They can say “God told me.” or “My faith requires this.” — but in reality, it’s just a convenient way to do what they’ve wanted to all along. It's projection disguised as “divine truth.” That’s why so many harmful ideas and beliefs hide under the label of righteousness: because the external authority can’t be questioned, while the human bias behind it can go along unchecked.   I don’t believe that morality should come from something outside of ourselves. At least primarily.   For me, spirituality comes from within. It’s owned by me.  It’s about being honest enough to say, “This is what I believe. This is what I feel right or wrong about.” It’s about taking my power back and not just outsourcing that responsibility to a so-called “higher power” just so I can dodge guilt.   That doesn’t mean I reject everything external. I believe in energy, vibes frequency — the way that we all sense and respond to forces bigger than ourselves. All those things matter, and they shape all of us. But they’re not supposed to make our moral choices for  us. They’re just context, not commandments.   The real danger of relying solely on external spirituality is that it creates too many loopholes that can impose more harm than good. If you claim your actions are “what God wanted,” then you never have to face whether or not those actions were actually just what you wanted. Internal spirituality, on the other hand, strips away excuses. It forces you to wrestle with y our own motive, accountability, and ultimately your truth. (Not to sound so cliche.) To me, that’s what being truly spiritually honest looks like. Not simple blind faith. Not waiting for some “god” to give me a “sign.” But listening to your inner frequency — and owning the choices that flow from it.

By Shaun K. I don’t always catch it early --- the spiral But when I do, I have things that help me stay here instead of floating into anxiety or dissociation. Cheap, simple, grounding. That’s all I need. I. Fidget Ring or Stress Ball Replaces nail-biting and over-scrolling. II. Texture Pens Writing + sensation= control without force. III. Noise Machine or Rain Sounds Speaker Silences everything except what I need to hear. IV. Foot Massager or Acupressure Mat Body presence. No thinking. Just sensation. V. Soft Lamp with Warm Light Helps the room match my nervous system when I’m calming down. Presence isn’t always peaceful. Sometimes it’s just tolerable. And that’s more than I used to have.

By Shaun K. What if no one was broken — just different? What if the problem wasn’t in the wiring, but in the way we measure minds at all?   “Neurodivergence” only exists because we decided some ways of thinking were to be deemed more acceptable than others. But what if we hadn’t? What if we just let minds be?   We created and now throw around terms like the spectrum, neurotypical, neurodivergent — as if they’re objective truths. As if these labels were written in nature. But they weren’t.   The only reason the spectrum even exists is because we’ve chosen to count — to calculate how many people think in specific ways. And we’ve silently agreed that majority = normal. That “typical” thinking is the gold standard — not because it’s better, but because it’s more common.   But what if we never made that comparison?   What if we never defined one way of thinking as the default? What if we stopped pathologizing anyone who fell outside that statistical bell curve?   The idea of “neurodivergence” would collapse. Not because minds wouldn’t still vary — they absolutely would — but because there’d be no stigma attached to that variation. No diagnosis required to explain your experience. No need to prove yourself just to be treated with some basic understanding.   The Spectrum Isn’t the Problem It’s the weight we’ve attached to it.   It’s not inherently bad to say people think and process differently. That’s just a fact. But we’ve layered so much meaning on top of that truth — labels, judgements, gatekeeping, pity, alienation — that “the spectrum” stops being a neutral observation and starts becoming a system hierarchy. And the thing is: it didn’t have to be.   We could’ve chosen to design society around a plurality of minds — instead of building everything around a narrow slice of what we call “normal.” Schools, workplaces, communication styles, emotional norms — all constructed with the assumption that if you don't fit the mold, you’re broken.   But what if no one was broken?   What if we stopped asking how far someone is from neurotypical and just started asking what kind of support, space, or design actually works for them?   The Term “Neurotypical” Only Exists Because We Made It So It’s not a diagnosis — it’s a statistical category. One we made up.   We drew a line in the sand and said, “People who think like this are regular. People who don’t… well, let’s name that.” And we called it neurodivergence.   But imagine if we never drew that line.   Imagine if difference wasn’t difference from something , but just difference.     That would radically change how we see learning, creativity, emotional processing, relationships — even identity itself. The spectrum would still exist, but it would be stripped of its judgement. Just a landscape of minds. Not a ruler.   Loneliness, love, and the lies that keep us apart — especially when you’ve been taught, you’re not who someone would choose.

By Shaun K. Some days I don’t feel like a person. I feel like a blur of thoughts and tension in a body that’s stuck between “keep pushing” and "shut down completely.”  This isn’t a fix-it list. These are just small things that help me come back to myself; even when I’m not okay. I. Electric Kettle + Tea Warmth helps. And something about making tea gives my brain a job without pressure. Relief & Relaxation Variety Sampler Glass Carafe Electric Hot Water Kettle II. Oversized Hoodie The kind that makes you feel small, but in a good way. Like you’re safe. The kind that makes you feel small, but in a good way. Like you’re safe. Wearable Blanket Hoodie III. Soft Mirror Light Because seeing yourself in harsh light when you already feel off? Absolutely not. This just softens the edges of your reflection. Lighted Mirror IV. Water Bottle with Time Markers Because hydration disappears when dissociation hits. This makes it visual. Tumbler With Time Marker V. Body Scrub or Aromatherapy Shower Even if I’m spiraling, scent + sensation, help me come back into my body. Coconut Spa Basket These don’t change my life. They just help me remember I have one. And sometimes, that’s more than enough.

By Shaun K. Can we just be honest about it? -- burnout doesn't just feel like simple exhaustion, it feels like being hollowed and emptied from the inside out-- and even worse sometimes your mind becomes the primary culprit. Your memory’s trash, you’re emotionally flatlined, and everything else that once came easy or even felt enjoyable now seems to feel more like a chore. This post isn’t going to be about becoming some hyper-actively disciplined version of a “new you”. It’s about how I slowly started returning back to myself-- with 5 things that actually gave me the tools and helped me to think straight again. I. The Journal That Wouldn’t Judge When your mind’s loud and scattered, your train of thought always seems to derail or deviate into dark places, journaling may give them a place to settle and become more grounded. I started with short daily dumps- with no prompts and no pressure, I thought about the past, present and future, asking myself questions that would involve deep self-reflection and broadening my views with the climates we currently struggle to live in. The power wasn’t in the pages but in realizing I had something to say again- and so much of it. Lined Notebook Thought Journal     II.  Lo-fi Music & Over-Ear/Noise canceling Headphones I didn’t listen to motivational podcast. No “brain-hacking frequencies”. Just relaxing sounds with some quality noise canceling headphones that would give me the ability to let my mind just breath and ground me from obsessive thinking. Sometimes that quiet space was all I needed to just relax and reset for a few hours. Active Noise Cancelling Headphones, Wireless Over Ear Bluetooth Headphones,100H Play Time   III. Time-Blocking My Day (But loosely) No, you don’t need to meticulously plan out your entire day, from each hour to the next. I managed my days in categories instead, letting my calendar reflect what I needed- focusing on “Energy”, “Rest”, and “Rebuild” factoring in things I enjoy currently or use to and want to try picking back up again and just not simply what I had to do. It made even the smallest of decisions feel more Intentional and fulfilling-- it lets you know much you could still accomplish, even if you let yourself take a break, especially when it becomes necessary for your betterment-- completely guilt free.     IV. Saying No (Out Loud, Not in My Head) I used to rehearse boundaries in my head and try to force stop my “people pleasing” phase yet, still would falter in the end-- saying “Yeah, I got you.” out loud. Burnout taught me that obtaining and keeping your peace is worth being misunderstood. Learning to say “no.” without a TED Talk explanation? Life-changing. Especially in cases where you’re simply just wasting your breath.   V. One Thing to Look Forward To-- Everyday Not a career. Not a complete transformation. Just a simple spark, new lust for life. A favorite show. A new tea. Even a quote that spoke to me. One thread of thread of joy that reminded me: I’m still in here and I have so much more to so       Burnout doesn’t mean you’re broken. It just means your survival system did its job for too long. These five things didn’t change my life overnight-- but they gave me the groundwork I needed to bring me back to the surface. If you’re finding yourself in the thick of it, just start small. Your clarity hasn’t left you. It's just become buried under the noise.

By Shaun K. I almost didn't buy these I thought, "this won't matter," or "this is a waste." But these five things proved me wrong ---- and I'm glad they did. I. Desk Lamp with Warm Glow Made nighttime planning actually feel doable. Warm Glow Desk Lamp II. White Noise Machine Didn't think it'd help me until it muted everything in my head. White Noise Machine III. Journal I Liked the Look Of I wrote in it more because it felt like me. CAGIE Compass Journal IV. Sticky Tabs for Book Slowed me down and made me engage instead of skim. Colored Sticky Tabs V. Mug That’s Just Mine Ritual object. Scent, warmth, grip. It's grounding now. Kepwam Self-Heating Mug Sometimes healing starts with the stuff you almost didn't buy. Sometimes clarity needs a container.

By Shaun K. These books didn’t save me. But they gave me words for things I’d been feeling for years --- and that alone made me feel less crazy. I. The Body Keeps the Score by Bessel van der Kolk Trauma isn’t just in your past. It’s in your body, your voice, and even your attention span.   The Body Keeps Score by Bessel van der Kolk II. Maybe You Should Talk to Someone by Lori Gottlieb Therapy from both sides. Raw and unexpectedly comforting.   Maybe You Should Talk to Someone by Lori Gottlieb III. Rest Is Resistance by Tricia Hersey A book that told me it was okay to stop pushing. Rest Is Resistance by Tricia Hersey IV. Burnout by Emily & Amelia Nagoski If you’ve ever said, “I’m so tired, but I can’t rest”, this one’s for you. Burnout by Emily & Amelia Nagoski V. Your Brain Is Not Broken by Tamara Rosier For neurodivergent thinkers trying to function in a world that demands conformity   Your Brains Not Broken by Tamara Rosier VI. It’s Kind of a Funny Story by Ned Vizzini It’s fiction, but it didn’t feel like it. The way this book captured depression, pressure, burnout --- and all through a teenage voice --- made it hit harder than some self-help book ever could. It reminded me that humor and heaviness don’t cancel each other out. And that you can feel broken and brilliant at the same. It's Kind of a Funny Story by Ned Vizzini VII. The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald I didn’t expect to relate to anyone in this book whatsoever, being that I am a POC in America, which doesn’t happen to always be that great and also kind of isolating in certain ways --- I read this book on a random whim; and then came Nick. The way he watches, the way he analyzes people without judging them out loud but never fully buys into the illusion either… I felt that   He’s not flashy. He’s not loud, He’s not the one everyone remembers first. But he sees. And sometimes that’s the loneliest role to play --- the one who sees it all clearly whole everyone else stays enchanted. I’ve felt like that. Detached, but not heartless. Aware, but still trying to hope it all means something The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald These books didn’t hand me solutions -- they handed me mirrors. Some reflected the parts of me I was afraid to admit were real. Others reminded me that I wasn’t the only one thinking like this, feeling like this, moving like through the world with too much awareness and not enough peace.   They gave me language for the weight I’d been carrying. And even when I put the book down, that language stayed with me --- in my head, in my decisions, in how gently I started talking to myself.   If you’re still figuring out how your mind works… if you’re still trying to show up in a world that wasn’t built for how you think or feel; I hope at least one these finds you in the right moment. Because sometimes the right sentence at the right time doesn’t just shift your mindset -- it reminds you that you’re still here. And still worth showing up for.

(Here’s What Helped Me Reset) By Shaun K. I wasn’t distracted. I was drowning in unfiltered noise. Constant alerts, non-stop thoughts, emotions I hadn’t even had time to give a name yet; everything blurring all together.   It wasn’t that I couldn’t focus. It’s that my nervous system never got a break.  And for a long time, I thought that meant I was broken or damaged.   Here’s what helped me start resetting my mind; not fixing everything at once, just turning the volume down enough to hear myself again.   I. Blue Light Glasses  didn’t think they’d do much. But the first time I wore them for hours while scrolling, I didn’t get that post-phone fog. It felt like my brain stopped buzzing just long enough for me to breathe.   High Tech Blue Light Glasses II. Fidget Tools/ Textured Pens This one might sound silly up until your thoughts start sprinting and your finger actually have somewhere to go... It’s like tricking your body into placing its feet on the ground. 5Pcs Fidget Toys Adults Set Ddaowanx Colorful Gel Pens III. Aromatherapy Diffuser Scent is a nervous system hack. Period. Mine isn’t aesthetic; it just makes the air feel less tense. And lavender? Almost always helps me close tabs in my head. Aromatherapy Essential Oil Diffuser IV. Weighted Blanket This isn’t a cozy thing; it’s an anchor. Some nights I couldn’t even cry, I just needed to be held down in silence. That’s what the weighted blanket gave me.   20lbs Weighted Blanket for Adults V. Simple Desk Organizer Chaos builds in piles. And having one spot; even just for my keys, notebooks, even just for some pens. It made me feel like had some control, especially in a time where more control was exactly what I needed, like I was finally in my own space again.   If you feel like you’re failing because your brain won’t focus, you’re not. You might just be overstimulated; by screens, by people, by your own thoughts. These helped me create just enough space to start coming back to myself. 5-Tier Document File Tray If you feel like you’re failing just because your brain won’t focus, you’re not. You might just be overstimulated; by screens, by people, by your own thoughts. These helped me create just enough space to start coming back to myself.

By Shaun K. Some days I just want to throw the whole thing away --- the blog, the vision, the brand. And on those days, these aren’t motivational tools. They’re survival tools   I. Good Pen + Note Pad So I can spiral in handwriting instead of social media. II. Headphones Block out the world. Play music that sounds like me. III. Candle I Can Only Burn When I’m Creating Associates that scent with “trying again.” IV. Simple Mouse or Keyboard That Feels Good Because if the tools are smooth, I’m more likely to use them. This isn’t always empowering. But it’s mine. And these things help me keep showing up for it.