This week was amazing, emotional, and deeply inspiring — not just for me, but for millions of like-minded people around the world. We’re going back to the Moon! I found myself tearing up almost daily while reading and watching content about Artemis 2, overwhelmed by a sense of happiness, global unity, and a reawakening of my inner child.

Ever since I was young, I’ve been fascinated by humanity’s dreams of exploring other planets and stars. I felt that if there was a purpose to our existence then it must be it — to expand horizons and explore space. Artemis 2 brought those feelings rushing back. It was incredible to follow the journey of those brilliant, dedicated, and genuinely kind people in real time. But almost every time I read a post about the mission, something felt off.

To my surprise, I encountered a large number of comments claiming it was all fake — a conspiracy orchestrated by NASA and world governments to hide ‘the truth.’ Of course, I was already aware of flat-earthers and space deniers — this isn’t my first decade on the internet — but I didn’t expect their numbers to feel so visible. It was surreal watching people repeatedly reject logic and evidence.

I think I understand why they’ve suddenly become so prominent. With half the world discussing Artemis 2, these individuals emerged from their Reddit threads and Facebook echo chambers to enlighten everyone. But more importantly, I think I understand why they feel compelled to leave sneering comments under each and every post celebrating the mission.

They may feel threatened. Many conspiracy theorists see themselves as part of an elite group — people who believe they’ve uncovered truths others are too naive to see. This feeling can make them feel smarter, more perceptive, and in general superior to the average person. Over time, that belief can become central to who they are.

Imagine living with that mindset. You go about your life convinced you see through the illusion, quietly enjoying a sense of intellectual superiority while dismissing others as gullible. Then suddenly, an event like Artemis 2 unfolds in front of your eyes. Millions watch it live. Videos emerge from plane windows showing the rocket climbing higher and higher. There are livestreams, radar tracking, telescope observations, data, charts, and calculations — an overwhelming volume of evidence.

So you turn to the comments, armed with familiar sarcasm — claims about cables and green screens — only to find people laughing instead of arguing or agreeing.

Worse still, the world seems to be celebrating. There’s excitement, kindness, and shared awe. People are united by curiosity and a love for science. And you’re on the outside of that feeling.

That disconnect can turn into frustration. Maybe even anger. The sense of superiority fades, replaced by discomfort. So you push back harder — calling others brainwashed, blind, or stupid.

But it no longer lands. The enthusiasm and unity around science remain intact. And what’s the alternative? Admitting you might be wrong — that a belief you’ve built part of your identity around doesn’t hold up? That’s a hard thing to do. For many, it’s psychologically overwhelming.

So the denial continues. It has to, one’s brain just can’t allow for such drastic believes changes.

And while this struggle plays out, I just experienced one of the most meaningful and inspiring weeks of my life.

No, scratch that – I LOVE READING! Oh, and by the way, I truly believe that the hundreds of books I read in my pre-teen and teen years made me into the person I am now. You know, that smart, witty and slightly sarcastic dude?

Reading a good book like like savouring a new tasty meal, but the feeling usually lasts way longer. Although you know what my favourite thing is about the books? I think one of the best feelings in the world is when you just begin your dive into a new book. Starting to explore a new sci-fi or fantasy world just tickles my brain in the best possible way! And if the world-building is great? Yes, please!

Slowly getting to unravel the rules of the world, finding out how a particular magic system or technology works, connecting with the characters – this is like I am embarking on that adventure myself! Time just flies when I am immersed.

Although I have a bad habit of starting to read faster and faster because I want to turn the next corner. Get to the next plot point. See what happens after this chapter's cliffhanger. I often skip descriptions or parts of a dialogue to get to the next major story beat, but this habit comes with a terrible downside. The books tend to end faster!

If there is one books downsides for me is that they feed directly into that obsessive part of my brain. A great book can hook me so much I can have troubles turning the pages. An immersive story can easily mess my sleep cycle up.

I remember doing that when I got my hands on the last Harry Potter book back in 2007 or 2008: I did not put the book down during the day and kept plowing through at night. I think I finished it around 5-6 am... So yeah.

Anyways, I just (re-)discovered an amazing web series and lost my Sunday. And the series is great. People seem to love it. One can read read it for free! There is just a single downside to that series...

How come everyone else is not freaking out, bear?! I’ve been talking to people for the past week and a half and no one else is as shocked as I am! Clearly, I live in a very specific nerd-bubble and that my life priorities are messed up. 

We have found signs of life on Mars. No, let me phrase this better. We have found SIGNS OF LIFE ON MARS!!!!!! Wow. My mind is blown. Total shock. 

And this isn’t some news portal exaggerating for views and clicks. This is NASA basically saying “we think we have found the signs of ancient microorganisms’ activity based on everything we know so far.” Of course, we will need to perform more tests (ideally even bringing that rock to Earth), but we are as confident as it we can get. 

Alright, strictly speaking this is no big deal. We have found a rock with a particular combination of chemical compounds that could’ve been produced as a result of microorganisms using those compounds as energy source. But what shocks me is that people are not dismissing this discovery because the evidence is not compelling enough. They are saying that even if we have found signs of past Mars life, this means nothing for them. 

Most everyone I know has reacted with some sort of “eh, whatever. No big deal.” But it is a big deal for me. It sent my head spinning. I mean, this will not change anyone else’s life in any way, but this is a big deal from a philosophical perspective of life in the universe. I am still that nerdy kid who grew up reading sci-fi stories about aliens and who has been thinking about this subject pretty often. This is my Roman Empire. 

This discovery suggests that life is not something unique or rare. Not that I thought humans were the only form of life - I don’t consider our species special in any way - but if life arose on two planets in our Solar System’s habitable zone this means that there are potentially thousands, even millions of planets with existing life! We were not an odd random occurrence, life is likely to happen in the conditions are right!

So this of course makes me think about those typical question about otherworld civilisations and lack of any signs of alien life… Is the Great Filter real? Or should we consider the scary theory of Dark Forest as more realistic and start to get worried? Or should we at least focus our telescopes more on Goldilocks planets to look for signs of life? Nerd time: Goldilocks planets are those that are just in the right part of a solar system where water can be in liquid form, since we believe water is where a life has the most chances of appearing. 

I did it—I finally finished this monument of a web series.

More than three Harry Potters worth of story, A Practical Guide to Evil is a tale of truly epic proportions. It shows us the fight between powerful Heroes and vicious Villains, with complex narrative, all while the stakes increase and the plot raises to epic proportions. One might say it becomes the epicest at the end.

You know, armies from the whole world aligning, friends and foes standing together against The Great Evil that is about to end the world.

I lived through the story alongside the protagonist, and for that, I’m truly grateful. This is a very interesting perspective on something that is central to a lot of stories we tell. The struggle between Good and Evil, and the fact that it is shown from multiple perspectives makes for a better perspective.

It took me several years to complete – not because I’m a slow reader, but because I began while it was still ongoing. As a web serial, not a traditional book series, I read the earlier parts 2-3 times when enough new chapters were added to justify re-reading.

There’s something truly unique about reading fiction as it’s being written. Much like following a TV show week by week, you experience each new chapter in real time. You can join the community, engage in comments, and even propose plot twists to the author.

I just finished the last page of this saga. I’m blown away and even got emotional. In a way, this experience took me back to my teenage years. It brought back the sense of wonder and inspiration I used to feel when reading. That alone is a gift. They say a good book should change you. I don’t know if it changed me to some noticeable extent, but it definitely left me exhausted - in the best way possible.

I’m even inspired to run a TTRPG campaign based on its premise, although it might be too meta, and there’s no rules system that quite captures the series’ unique power dynamics. Still, I’ll cherish the experience. I’m thankful to have read this story.

P.S. if I didn’t interest you in this book, here’s a quote for you:

”The Dread Empire of Praes may have won the war, but the clock was already ticking. The Legions of Terrors had made a lot of angry orphans through the afternoon’s bloody work, and in time that would mean one thing –

A couple of weeks ago, I found myself in an unexpected situation—helping to rescue my elderly neighbour who had gotten trapped on her balcony.

I was working remotely at home when I heard a loud conversation in the corridor outside my apartment. At first, I ignored it, but twenty minutes later, after finishing a call, I realized the argument was still going. Curious, I stepped out to see what was going on.

One of my neighbours—let’s call him A—was speaking through the closed door of the apartment next to mine. He explained that while walking outside, he had faintly heard an elderly woman calling for help. It turned out that an older couple and their daughter lived in that apartment, and the elderly woman had gotten locked out on their balcony.

She had stepped outside for some fresh air, but her husband, feeling cold, had closed the door behind her. Then, while getting some water, he suddenly felt unwell, collapsed, and couldn’t get back up. That left his wife stranded outside in freezing temperatures—dressed only in a house robe and slippers.

A and I tried speaking to the elderly man again, but he was too weak to help. With no way to reach their daughter, the apartment’s owner, we went out to my patio (ogródek, as we call it in Poland) to talk directly to the elderly woman. She had no phone and didn’t know her daughter’s number. At that point, A made a bold decision—he was going to climb over to her patio.

There was just one problem. Before he could do that, I had to deal with a massive cat-proof net that the previous owners of my flat had installed. They’d had a cat and had draped thick protective netting all over the patio space. I quickly detached part of it, clearing the way for A. As he climbed over, I passed the elderly woman a warm blanket and a cup of tea to help her stay warm while we figured out the next step.

A went to speak with building security while I called the administration, hoping they had a contact number for the flat’s owner. Unfortunately, due to GDPR laws, they couldn’t give me the number, but they agreed to reach out on my behalf and pass mine along.

Shortly after, A returned, but he wasn’t able to get the number. He had to leave to take care of his own business, so it was on me to continue the rescue operation. At least now, the elderly woman wasn’t at immediate risk of serious illness from the cold. Not long after A left, the flat owner finally called me back. She was too far away to come herself, but she had already contacted her son, who was on his way.

About twenty minutes later, I heard someone rushing down the corridor. The urgency in his steps told me it was the owner’s son. I stepped outside just in time to see him unlock the patio door, finally letting his grandmother back inside. She was shivering but safe.

Later that day, the son returned to thank me profusely, and the next day, the couple’s caretaker also reached out to express her gratitude and confirm that both of them were doing fine.

It wasn’t dangerously cold—just a degree or two below freezing—but given the woman’s frail condition and light clothing, things could have gone very badly if A hadn’t heard her in time.

“This is going to be one of those rides, huh?” I thought as the Uber driver asked about my evening plans. Well, I usually don’t mind chatting if I’m in the mood, and that night I was.

“I’m heading to my friends’ place,” I said, “and then we’re all going to a Harry Potter quiz.”

He expressed some interest mixed with surprise, and I instantly knew he was not a Potterhead. We started talking about Harry Potter, and I couldn’t help but go on a mini-rant about how it wasn’t just a book series but a cultural phenomenon that created a magical world for millions of people all over the world. I told him how lucky I was to have grown up alongside it. “No other generation can experience the same unique journey – reading the books as they were published,” – I said.

I was growing together with the main characters, and my age lined up with the main trio almost perfectly. When the books were light and magical, I was still a kid. When the books became about school life, insecurities, and struggles of being an early teen, I was that early teen. And when the books started to take a darker turn, I was old enough to grapple with more mature themes.

The driver listened patiently as I sang my praises. He was a good listener: he asked questions, nodded, and made the occasional “I get it” encouraging sounds. And then, after my pitch about how great that series was, he kinda shrugged and said, “No offense, but I think reading fiction is a waste of time.”

I could feel he wasn’t trying to be rude—just stating his honest opinion. He preferred self-improvement books: motivational stuff, psychology, “Five habits to change your life” kinds of things.

I wasn’t in the mood to discuss this position, and luckily, we almost reached the destination. I did recommend him one of my own favorites in that genre, though: Thinking, Fast and Slow by Daniel Kahneman. Note to readers: but seriously, do check this out. Mind-blowing stuff.

This conversation actually stuck with me.

I’d heard variations of “That’s a waste of time” before—about my hobbies and interests—so this did not offend or upset me in the slightest. But saying such things about reading? That was a first.

It got me thinking: what did I get after all the time I’d spent reading fiction—hundreds of books, countless hours? Was that useful time?

Abso-effing-lutely. Fiction shaped me. Those books taught me to see the world through different eyes, live through countless difficult situations, and listen to hundreds of tough arguments. They made me the empathetic and open-minded person I am today.

Fiction is like a life simulator or a perfect training course. You experience feelings you’ve never felt, face struggles you’ve never faced, and get to view decisions you’ve never had to make. It’s the only chance where you can actually take a peek into someone else’s mind and live their life. This really helps you understand other humans and teaches you to look for their points of view.

So no, reading was never a waste of time. Not even close. I never thought it was, but sometimes thinking something through helps you shape your thoughts on a subject.

I was walking alongside a parking lot today, the kind where the pavement is squeezed between the cars and the road. I was thinking about the cold and how my position on winter has slowly changed over the years.

As a kid I loved it. Snow days, sledding, snowball fights – what’s not to love? The reality of long coats, short days and slippery roads has dulled the shining of that magic season as I grew older. But lately winter has just become my least favourite season I think.

As I was completely lost in my thoughts, I was rudely jolted back to reality. A car slowly pulled out of parking several meters ahead of me. It did not startle me, it did not move too fast, it didn’t even cause me to change my pacing. And yet I felt a surge of annoyance.

The audacity! How dare he drive right in front of my path ruining my moment of that “important” self-reflection? This irrational annoyance appeared from seemingly now-where. I was just about to navigate use of my self-reminders – “Everyone is living their life. It’s not all about you, Kostya” – when the driver completely turned the situation around and shifted my perspective.

He looked at me, gave me a tiny nod and waved.

Everyone knows this gesture: raised hand and slight nod of the head. The common sign of “I see you, thanks for letting me pass” or sometimes “Sorry, please continue”. And that simple action changed my reaction instantly. My annoyance melted like snow in summer, replaced with a smile.

I waved, nodded back and we moved. A potential cause for frustration turned into a shared moment of human connection. And I love those connections. I sincerely enjoy them.

But that instantaneous mood swing got me thinking. I try to think of myself as an empathetic person, who tries to understand people around me and to remind myself that everyone is living their own life. With them being the main character in it by the way, not me.

So I am wondering how many of similar instances of getting annoyed for nothing I barely notice and then react to something that I made up in my head. Most people barely pay any attention to others and are not actively trying to hurt or inconvenience us. They just live their lives. And so should we.

They control us all. They make us who we are, they navigate us and sometimes make us do things we didn’t want to. I know – what a revelation, right? People have habits. Obvious.

Well, I just had an epiphany of sorts today. I am on a weight loss journey: a long, thorny road, but at least I am trying to walk it after years of excuses.

I have started to listen to my body to sort real hunger from the noise. Trying to catch moments when the urge to eat is caused by something different from actual physiological hunger. You know, getting bored, longing for a particular taste in my mouth, just munching something out of habit, etc. I try to stop and listen to my body before eating more.

One small victory came in a form of eliminating boredom cravings. You stand up from your desk for a quick break, wander to the fridge and open it, hoping for something tasty inside. Being able to ask myself “Am I actually hungry now?” has been a great experience and really taught me to listen to my body better. By the way, most of the times I am actually not.

It hit me today, that the ease of eliminating that habit has given me a false sense of victory and has lured me into sense of security. I realised that my habits about lunch and dinner time run even deeper.

I always want them, even though I don’t always need them. Let me explain: I need a proper food serving that will serve as a trigger for my brain. Kind of a ritual if you will. The plate, the meal, the relaxing 20 minutes of reading a book. The ceremony has been finished, the hunger mark in my brain has been checked.

And I will feel like this even when I am not actually hungry. I could be snacking all morning but yet when the lunch time comes, I need to have a proper one. It is the ritual that my mind needs. Most of the times I stand up feeling completely full. And (yet again) disappointed in myself for overindulging.

It is interesting how much this habit of having a proper dinner, rooted in my upbringing, controls my life to such an extend. I wonder how many more of my habits are invisible to my mind. They sit so deeply that I don’t even think of them as habits. They are just core part of who I am.