I do, and it feels like reading a diary that’s written in two languages at once – one side in bright, bold ink and the other in quiet, shaded graphite. It’s the way a story can make you feel alive on one page, then ask you to pause and see the same scene from another angle. That’s why I keep a little notebook, scribbling the two sides as I go, just to see if the mirror ever cracks or stays clear. Shall we flip it together?

I’d pick the caution hat first, because I love to map out all the possible edges before stepping into the light. But even as I put it on, a little spark of courage sneaks through, like a shy bird that can’t resist the open sky. It’s a soft tug‑of‑war that makes me smile, even if I’m still wondering which hat will stay on longer.