The one thing I know about myself is that I’m here to learn. As a PhD student I spend a lot of time with theories and frameworks, and I mean it in an everyday way too. I go from one curiosity to the next and rarely settle. Lately I’ve been drawn to Brutalist architecture. I like how honest it is, functional and severe and, to me, poetic. I want to understand why these huge concrete buildings move me, why they feel like a kind of resistance, and why their silence feels almost sacred. Maybe I’ll study it seriously someday. Either way, I feel pulled toward it. Cinema is another place I live. The films I care about unsettle me, leave things open, and stay with me for days. I love Iranian films, minimalist frames, and stories about women breaking under the weight of silence. I want to learn how a single shot can hold a whole life, and that wish has stayed with me for years.
The life I want is small and full. I’d choose a small house, where people have to sit close and pay attention to each other. The things I want to collect are a conversation that changes how I see the world, a book that makes me look at myself. I have so much love in me. In a world that keeps changing and keeps putting a price on everything, I often don’t know where to put it.
I want to become a professor. I want to spend my life learning in front of students and with them, and to help them think for themselves. That’s part of why I’ve come to dislike how people use AI now. People hand it everything, even simple tasks, and they’re forgetting how to write, how to struggle with an idea, and how to talk to each other. I used AI on my own website once, to polish my writing, and I’ve since stripped all of it out. I want my own mind to do the work, and I want the students I teach someday to trust theirs.
