Step 1: Panic
Realized I had an assignment. Stared at a list of 48 words. Brain went blank.
A word I chose by asking someone else. An exploration of meaning, irony, and the importance of trusting yourself.
Read My ConfessionSpoiler: I didn't actually choose it. Here's what happened.
Realized I had an assignment. Stared at a list of 48 words. Brain went blank.
Instead of trusting my gut, I turned to my colleague. "Just pick something for me."
"Keys," they said, probably without thinking. And just like that, my fate was sealed.
The assignment about personal meaning... and I outsourced the choice. Peak irony achieved.
Fine. I got the word. Let me at least try to find meaning in this chaos.
Keys unlock doors, secrets, and opportunities. They're the permission slip of the physical world.
"The key to success" — we use it to describe essential knowledge. Keys = solutions.
Piano keys, musical keys. A whole different dimension where keys create harmony instead of opening locks.
Keys protect what matters. Your home, your car, your secrets. Trust in metal form.
Keyboard keys. Every message you type, every essay you submit. Including this one.
"Key to my heart" — keys as symbols of trust, intimacy, and letting someone in.
Here's where it gets good. Or painful. Depends on your perspective.
Every time you use a key, you're making a choice. To enter. To leave. To lock something away or set it free.
I had the key to my own decision. I handed it to someone else. "Here, you decide what's meaningful to me."
Having keys means you're trusted. You're given access. You're considered responsible enough to make choices.
The assignment was literally about personal meaning. And I couldn't trust myself to pick a word. Chef's kiss irony.
"The key to everything is deciding to hold your own keys. Unfortunately, I gave mine away for this assignment."
Plot twist: this assignment worked. Just not the way the professor intended.
Your gut feeling is valid. Even if you pick a "boring" word, at least it's YOUR boring word. Own it.
Any word can be meaningful if you dig deep enough. Even one picked randomly by your tired colleague.
Sometimes the best stories come from mistakes. This webpage exists because I made a hilariously ironic choice.
The real key wasn't a word on a list. It was learning to trust myself with decisions — even small ones.
"Next time, I'll pick my own word. Probably. Maybe. We'll see." - Tudor Esan
Because the assignment asked for it, and I'm nothing if not thorough.