Wellington, New Zealand.
A city dangling off the edge of the planet like a drunk at last call, clawing at the table as the bartender flicks the lights. A place where the buzzword pablum of my day job—“learnings,” “alignment,” “quarterly outcomes”—felt like Martian static in a place that spoke only in tectonic grunts and ocean howls. I was 100 klicks deep…
That’s where the excerpt stops
The rest of this one lives on Substack. Read the whole thing ↗