What you’re about to hear is an unhinged conversation between Felix and Stephanie—fast, sideways, and just self-aware enough to be dangerous. It’s my dyslexic brain trying to make sense of a world where people keep assigning blame like it’s a party favor, tossing it at anything and anyone except where it actually belongs.

There’s no clean logic here. No tidy resolution.

Just sharp turns, loud opinions, misplaced certainty, and the kind of chaos that somehow starts to feel familiar if you sit in it long enough.

If it feels ridiculous, good.

Because right now, ridiculous is kind of the point.