Top image: RICE file photo / Zachary Tang
Thought 1
If Brat Summer is officially over, does it mean we’re now in Grand Theft Autumn?
Thought 2
Can someone wake me up when people stop doing Green Day jokes every September?
Thought 3
At what age must a millennial be to latch bouldering or marathoning or Hyrox-ing to their personal identities and make it their defining trait on Instagram?
Thought 4
Will mpox be severe enough to be a global pandemic, and if so, can we start going back into lockdown again? After a few years of rushing back into the new normal, I kinda miss the peace and quiet.
Thought 5
Why am I not flipping burgers at a McDonald’s instead of stressing so much about work as we edge into Q4?
Thought 6
Why am I starting to care less about losing my job?
Thought 7
No, seriously—at this point in the year, when I’m supposed to feel like I’ve got a good handle on things, why does it feel like I’m losing control more than ever? Why does it seem like 2024’s to-do list is barely touched as the months fly by?
Why is it so hard to make sense of this anxiety and put articulate words to this year-end panic? Why does it sting to see others flourishing on LinkedIn? Is it okay that I lack their hustle and ambition?
Why do I keep staring at my bank account, worrying about missing financial milestones at this age? How is this stress manifesting in my complexion, joints, and digestive system?
Why is it so hard to accept love—either from others or ourselves? And why do we still tie our self-worth to job performance, even as TikTok and Instagram scream at us to do otherwise?
With only a few months left in the year, why does personal growth and self-discovery still feel so elusive? Why are we still unsure of what gives us meaning and purpose? And why do we keep pretending we’ve got it all together in the curated digital selves we post on social media?
When we can’t even define what success is, why do we still blame ourselves for not working hard enough or being good enough?
How do we deal with these weighty existential concerns while grappling with guilt about privilege—especially when others in worse circumstances have ‘real’ struggles?
Why are we always so damn hard on ourselves as the year draws to a close? What do you do when so many things are out of your control and remain painfully uncertain?
We’re told that time is on our side, that there’s always tomorrow—but that’s not how it feels, is it? Each passing year can feel like another chance slipping away. And it’s no wonder, because time isn’t infinite. It’s a finite resource that we spend as we go, often without realising it. Life isn’t a grand, neatly wrapped package but a chaotic series of half-formed plans and unexpected turns.
You’ve spent the past eight months chasing something—success, happiness, validation—when what you really need is not more time, but time used differently. Time to burn out, time to recover.
Time to realise that maybe none of this makes sense, and that’s perfectly okay. What we rarely acknowledge is that sometimes, just surviving is enough. The only way to truly live is to give yourself the grace to breathe, pause, and let go of the impossible standards we set for ourselves.
It’s then that you laugh—at yourself, at life, at the sheer comedy of it all. Maybe the universe is in on the joke, too. You realise that the only thing you truly owe yourself is the time to simply be.
Thought 8
Have you ever wondered who was the first kid to start using “skibidi toilet rizz” in real life?
