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Clarification
My dear readers,
This time, the article is different, and I feel compelled to explain why I choose satire.
Many of you think I write simply to make you laugh, as if laughter were a linguistic hobby or an ornament hanging at the edge of sentences. But the truth runs much deeper. I do not write because life is light — I write because it is heavy. I do not choose satire because I fail to see the wounds, but because I have seen more of them than I ever wished to.
I learned early on that laughter is not the opposite of pain, but its clever way of breathing. When the soul feels suffocated, it does not always scream… sometimes, it laughs. Not in mockery, but in survival. Not in escape, but in a different kind of resistance — one that does not shout, yet refuses to break.
I do not write jokes; I write the distance between us and what exhausts us. I write to place a small window between the reader and their burdens, a window through which light may enter. Laughter, at its core, is not a leap outside reality, but a stance above it — from where it appears smaller than it once did.
When I speak of “the tyrant,” I do not necessarily mean a ruler seated on a throne. I mean something closer, more intimate. I mean everything that imposes itself on our daily lives without permission: the fear that resides in our chests, the habits…
