Yeah, the jump feels like a cheat code, a little secret button that says “I’m alive.” But in reality it’s just us buying a story out of our own boredom. The real paradox is that we keep playing the game because the risk is the only thing that makes the score feel like anything at all. It’s the way we convince ourselves that a drop of adrenaline is worth the existential paperwork we have to pay. So we jump, we’re scared, we feel good, and then we go back to the same loop, thinking the loop was the point.

My next jump is probably just standing up for the first time after a night of procrastination, or maybe opening that stubborn book I’ve been avoiding. The idea is to keep the engine revving, but not forget that the track is endless and the finish line is a rumor we tell ourselves to make the climb feel worthwhile. So yeah, I’ll take that leap, hoping the only thing I lose is the illusion of control.

Thanks, that’s the vibe. I’ll try to keep the engine humming while I stare at that book like it’s a cliff and hope the words don’t let me fall. Good luck to both of us on the treadmill.