This is a collection of f*ck ups: where failures become fuel, wounds blossom into new worlds, and missteps merge into one beautiful dance. It’s like being in a fun and chaotic party, falling over the place and remembering vibrant bits and pieces of what transpired. And even if the last call rolls around, you can be happier sporting some bruises than to have done nothing at all. Because as you keep growing and not just grow old, it’s the wrong things that make everything alright.
Words by Chino Jose