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You'll Tell Another Story About It!


That’s what my brain tells me every time I meet someone new.  

I don’t know if it’s a blessing or some weird defect. Every time I meet someone, my brain doesn’t say “nice to meet you.” It says, “Hmm. What can we do with this one?”

I don’t see people normally. I see material. Plot twists. Character flaws wrapped in good perfumes.

And I swear it’s not fully in my control. I can be warm, smiling, offering snacks, being a decent human. Inside, my mind is already outlining Chapter 4: The Family WhatsApp Meltdown.

My wife knows this disease. Before introducing me to her friends, she gives me a safety briefing.

“Please don’t write anything stupid about them. They all follow you.”

I tell her very respectfully, “Ask them not to behave stupid around me. I’ll cooperate.”

She doesn’t laugh. I think that’s unfair.

It’s not always about unresolved childhood trauma, okay. Yes yes, a little bit is there. We all have some masala. But sometimes I just want material. Sometimes I want to sing. Sometimes I want to perform a standup bit (for which I have already written my piece). Mostly, I just want to feel alive. Writing is cheaper than therapy and slightly more dangerous.

If you ever see me sitting quietly in a group, just listening, nodding slowly, understand this clearly. I am not shy. I am collecting data.

Tell me about those two best friends who are constantly bitching about each other to different groups. Please. I love layered drama. Tell me how successful you are while casually placing your iPhone on the table in a group of Android people. That little flex deserves a paragraph at least.

Tell me about your business. The one that is “crazy busy” but somehow allows you to take weekly trips to new beaches in your new car.

Tell me about your toxic mother-in-law. Your passive-aggressive mother. Tell me everything. The louder you explain, the quieter I become.

And while I’m listening, I’m also deciding. What version of me do you get? Because I don’t give the same story to everyone. I mirror. You give gossip, I give surface-level charm. You give honesty, I open a small window. You give arrogance, I become very peaceful and very unavailable.

I am a man of many stories. I only disclose the ones that match what you bring to the table.

And yes, I am a Gemini. Which basically means even I don’t fully trust which side of me is clocking in that day.

So if one day you read something and feel a little exposed… relax.

It may not be about you.

But if it sounds exactly like you, talks like you, behaves like you… it definitely could be.

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