Real moments that shaped me, far from bullet points and job titles. In this section, I share personal stories, travels, milestones, and lessons learned through the unpredictability of life. Sometimes messy, often eye-opening — always real.
Às vezes acontece de eu ficar bloqueado em certos pensamentos, e lentamente eles se tornam obsessões. Isso sempre aconteceu, agora que reflito sobre o assunto, mas antes acontecia inconscientemente. Hoje em dia, não demoro a tomar conhecimento do que está acontecendo dentro da minha cabeça.
Embora assim seja, quando pensamentos e emoções se misturam de forma indissolúvel, é mais difícil pensar lucidamente e manter o controle das próprias reações.
Hoje em dia, somos muito bem informados sobre várias técnicas de relaxamento, como exercícios de respiração, meditação, etc. Mas tem uma técnica sobre a qual não leio muito e que poderia tornar todos nós calmos e únicos escritores: escrever histórias baseadas nos pensamentos que nos atormentam.
Sim, claro, escritores usam com muita frequência acontecimentos pessoais como inspiração para as próprias histórias, mas quem não é escritor não sabe disso. Tudo que acontece conosco é material criativo para futuros livros.
Escrever sobre nossos pensamentos, sobre nossas histórias, relações, etc., relaxa e nos ajuda a canalizar nossa vida de forma construtiva, suponho, ou pelo menos é assim para mim. Por isso, eu aconselharia: em vez de escrever seu próprio diário dos acontecimentos, escreva histórias inspiradas na própria vida. Obviamente, respeitando a privacidade das pessoas envolvidas na vida real, usando animais como personagens, outras épocas, nomes fictícios, etc.
É muito divertido e ajuda a processar o que mantém sua mente ocupada de forma desagradável.
Um exemplo concreto: se você tiver um problema com colegas de trabalho que te mantêm acordado e ansioso, escreva uma história. Seus colegas podem se tornar alienígenas com os quais você não consegue se comunicar, e daí você inventa um desafio, personagens, história, seguindo as bases da narrativa de forma simples.
Se você nunca tentou, tente e conte como foi sua experiência.
I want to keep this post brief and share the key insights without wasting anyone’s time with a story that isn’t necessary. I’ll just say that the tip I’m sharing is a prompt I created by feeding perplexity.ai some questions related to my CV, future career steps, closing learning gaps based on market trends, and my current skills.
At the moment, I have a stable position where I work mainly in German and French. I love languages, and especially German has been quite a barrier to get past for a long time, so it’s pretty dope that I get paid to keep speaking German and improving my skill daily! Also, after spending almost the whole of 2024 unemployed, I can only be grateful for my current professional situation.
Of course, I have ambitious plans for my future. As someone with insatiable curiosity who is always learning, I’m constantly considering my next steps. That’s why I asked Perplexity to analyze my CV and give me some tips on career advancement, learning new skills, and planning a shift in my professional life. I also believe this prompt could be useful to those aiming at getting back to work after a period of unemployment.
Anyway, enough introduction! I wrote much more than intended. Here are some of the most effective prompts for supporting career development when someone provides their CV, along with examples for planning next steps, recommending relevant courses, suggesting career transitions, and outlining practical steps.
1. Assessment & Goal Clarification
“Using my CV and current role as context, identify the responsibilities, skills, and behaviors where I consistently perform at a high level. Then highlight tasks, environments, or role expectations that appear misaligned with my strengths, energy, or long-term career goals, and explain why.”
2. Gap Analysis & Skill Mapping
“Based on my professional experience and the roles or industries I’m targeting (e.g., XYZ), map my existing technical and soft skills against common job requirements. Clearly identify skill gaps, emerging competencies, or experience areas I currently lack, and prioritize them by importance and market demand.”
“Taking into account my background, transferable skills, and target roles, recommend specific skills, certifications, or learning paths that would most improve my chances of securing interviews. For each recommendation, explain why it matters and whether it’s best suited for short-term impact or long-term career growth.”
4. Career Shift & Adjacent Role Discovery
“Review my past roles, cross-functional projects, and side responsibilities to identify patterns that suggest potential career pivots or adjacent roles (such as project management, training, content strategy, localization, or translation management). For each possible direction, explain which past experiences support the transition.”
5. Actionable Career Planning (90-Day Plan)
“Create a realistic 90-day career action plan tailored to my goals. The plan should include: • Specific résumé or LinkedIn improvements • Weekly or monthly networking objectives (with examples of who to contact and why) • Recommended courses or skill-building activities • Clear milestones to track progress and adjust strategy”
6. Industry & Role Exploration
“Based on current job market trends, identify roles closely aligned with my experience that show strong growth or resilience. For each role, outline typical entry requirements, key skills, salary range (if relevant), and realistic steps I would need to take to transition into it.”
7. Reflection, Motivation & Career Fit
“Analyze what appears to motivate me most professionally—such as problem-solving, helping others, creative work, autonomy, or working with technology—based on my career history and preferences. Then suggest career directions or role types that align strongly with these motivators and explain why they would be a good fit.”
Best Practices for Using These Prompts
Balance objective analysis with personal intent
Focus on actionable, short-term outcomes
Define measurable success criteria
Revisit and iterate regularly
Use prompts as decision support, not absolutes
These prompts create a structure that helps you assess your present position, recognize growth areas, and build a plan that includes upskilling and networking, ultimately increasing the likelihood of successful career transitions.
I would suggest printing your results and going with the flow, seeing how it works for you, and eventually make adjustments to align with your goals and current circumstances.
I started this blog a year ago, mainly as a way to rediscover a sense of purpose during a period of unemployment. I also wanted to build a writing portfolio to share with recruiters during interview processes and increase my chances of being hired in my field of interest: anything related to writing, researching, translating, content strategy, project management, and so on.
However, it soon became something more—not just a tool for job searching, but a personal space where I wanted to invest more time, experiment, and perhaps pursue long-held dreams, like publishing short stories and novels on my own platform. Since publishing a physical book still feels out of reach.
This blog didn’t start out the way it is now. In fact, it used to be a messy personal website with too many pages, scattered content, and little structure. So I slowly shaped it into what you can see today, which I hope comes acroos as a simple collection of blog posts.
I decided to invest a little in a Personal WordPress subscription. I would have gone for the Premium plan, but it’s literally twice the price, and there is no free trial to see if it’s actually worth it for the purpose of my website. That’s why I opened a donation page on Ko-fi, even though that is not really necessary at this stage. And if I ever build a larfer audience in the future, I would gladly invest my own money to bring better content—although I don’t know what “better content” would look like yet.
I don’t know if this makes sense, but I think I know what I am doing, while at the same time having no idea of what I’m doing.
At times, this whole blog thing feels like an extension of a personal diary—not because of the content itself, but because I’m writing primarly for myself, and maybe that’s the case. But what I actually mean is that building an audience is truly hard. Sure, I could have emailed every single person I know and told them, “Hey, I have this cool new blog, wanna take a look?”—but that idea terrifies me. I would rather let this blog exist among millions, probably billions of pages published every day and connect with those with which my content resonates. It feels more purposeful, less of an obligation to my friends, family, acquaintances, and so on. Maybe that’s just the lone wolf. But anyway, this is a bigger topic, one I may (or may not) come back to in the future.
Recently, following the example of some blogs I found out there, I decided to reorganize my posts into the categories: reflections, experiences, short stories, novels (still to come), and explorations. Then, in an attempt to broaden my audience, I also created new tags, long tags, and so on and so forth. I have to admit, I have zero patience for this SEO stuff. I would love to develop my marketing skills in a professional setting, but in my personal time, I just want to write. So, I ChatGPT the shit out of this SEO stuff!
Since I squeeze my free time to write consistently (combining long commutes, work, reading, training, relationship, and so on), I don’t overthink what I publish, and I don’t spend too much time editing. As I mentioned in previous posts, I use AI tools only to correct typos and grammatical mistakes—not to alter my style or rephrase things I’ve written. I have a personal prompt that keeps this as ethical and minimal as possible, since, as far as I understand, using AI too heavily could raise questions about ownership or originality under some copyright interpretations.
Concluding without a real conclusion, I am still very excited about this project—especially because I have endless ideas that I want to execute. But I am not in a rush, and I accept now more than before that sometimes it can take longer to write better content, especially when it comes to fiction, which is my favorite—but also the most demanding stuff.
More than ten years ago, I wrote a book. A novel. A draft of a novel. Actually, I’d say half of it is ready to publish, the other half is still a work in progress. I keep repeating to myself that sooner or later I’ll get it done, but until now, I haven’t managed it.
Achieving that, though, would finally set me free—and I’d be able to write my second novel, or at least start brainstorming about it. Until now, it has felt like being pregnant for ten years—wanting a second child but unable to have one until you give birth to the first. I’m not sure if this is the best analogy, considering I’m not a woman, but it seemed funny when I first wrote it down.
Last year, while I was unemployed, I dedicated some time to polishing my manuscript and sent it to an editor—a friend of a friend—who had kindly offered to read the first part of my draft. I knew it wasn’t ready. I knew I still had to work on it, probably over and over again. Not that I haven’t already, but self-editing can be a rabbit hole where one easily gets lost in lateral overthinking. I was afraid of sharing it with anybody at that stage—especially an editor. Besides, the experience of unemployment had left a scar on my ego. I was already so full of self-doubt that exposing myself in such an intimate way was the last thing I wanted. Yet, I did it—I shared the first part of the book with the editor. And guess what? I was right. The manuscript wasn’t ready—according to him, too. He suggested I set it aside, let it rest, and write short stories, articles, anything but touch that manuscript. He also asked me—perhaps testing my resolve—if I was sure I even wanted to keep writing. “Why would you want that?” he asked. It was a real setback, but it didn’t demotivate me. Not because I have a will of steel or anything like that. There are just some things I can’t live without. In other words, if I had to answer his question—“Why do I want to write?”—it’s not that I want to. It’s that I can’t do otherwise. I need it. But as I said, at the time it felt like a setback, also because I focused mostly on the negative part of his feedback. He had, in fact, shared valuable positive feedback. When I made an effort to develop a character with empathy and care—rather than rushing the story and piling up dialogue—he said he felt more connected to it. He also noted that he could sense when I was being honest and when I was hiding something. When I was free writing, he said he particularly liked my dark humor and sarcasm.
One always has to take feedback with a grain of salt, but this came from a professional in the industry who has analyzed hundreds of books, if not more, given his experience in the industry. Most of all, his opinion felt true to me; it resonated, and his tone was genuine.
Now, after following his advice for a while, I want to make the most of what I’ve learned and finally complete this first novel process. To proceed, I realized I needed three things:
1) Accountability 2) A clear goal 3) A good method
And I think this blog gave me all three. My goal, in fact, is to periodically review and publish a few paragraphs of my novel alongside what I’m already writing (spontaneous reflections, short stories, etc.). The people who enjoy reading my content will help keep me accountable. As for the method, I believe taking this slow-paced but consistent and rewarding approach—instead of trying to finish the whole thing all at once—will benefit my motivation and help me stay disciplined and loyal to my overall approach.
This whole plan or realisation is not an original idea of mine. In fact, I have to thank the WordPress community for sharing so much amazing content so openly and for inspiring me with their approaches and consistency. If you’re interested in embarking on a similar path, I highly recommend checking out the blogs Faded Houses, Great – Almost Meaningful, and Edge of Humanity. Read their content and take note of how they structure their pages—it’s really well done!
So, to conclude, I’m going to follow this strategy: alternating between short stories, spontaneous reflections, and—primarily—my novel, which is written in Italian. I intend to keep it that way, as translating it into English, even though beneficial in terms of broadening my audience, would only add another layer of challenge, and my objective is to keep this process as lean, uncomplicated, and enjoyable as possible.
If you’re Italian, or have Italian friends interested in following a novel as it evolves toward publication, I warmly invite you to stay tuned and share this blog. Your presence and feedback mean more than you know.
After forcing myself out of bed, performing my morning exercises consisting of some twenty minutes of light weightlifting, brushing my teeth, getting dressed, and running out to catch the tram, I finally enjoy my favourite moment of the workday: reading a book.
When I’m lucky, I find a seat near the window. I squeeze myself into a sort of one-handed self-hug, holding the book with my free hand, zoning out from everything around me as I get absorbed in whatever I’m reading. Sometimes, I glance at the screen displaying the remaining stops to calculate how many pages I can approximately read before the end of the ride—whether I can finish the chapter or not.
Before getting off to jump on the train that will take me to my final destination, I mark the line I have reached with my fingernail and put the bookmark in place. I walk as quickly as possible to beat other people waiting on the platform and secure a good spot to read undisturbed once again.
During this whole time, my biggest worries are a crying baby, a pair of talkative kids speaking a language I understand, people listening to loud music, or someone playing the guitar, singing, or begging for money. In those moments, I admit to entertaining some rather unsympathetic thoughts—not worth detailing, but let’s just say my imagination turns catastrophically sinister when the peace of my reading is disrupted.
I have breakfast at the supermarket. There’s a healthy buffet there. Very few people eat breakfast there, which gives me a few more minutes to read or listen to an audiobook before starting my shift.
During my lunch break, I return to the same supermarket buffet. I prepare my bowl and run to a park close by to find a bench where I can eat in peace, disconnecting from everything. After a few minutes of peace, I tend to speed up my eating to carve out some extra reading time before returning to work.
In the evening, I do the same routine in reverse on my way home. But once I’m home, I’m done—my body and brain just want a shower, some food, and silence before stretching into a few more pages of reading, a spontaneous blog post draft, a few scenes from a movie I’ll end up watching in episodes like a TV series, some time with my girlfriend when our schedules align, or simply a good, long night of sleep.
This repetitively pleasant routine, though, is a phase of rest. A pause that feels purposeful. I don’t yet know what it precedes, but I do know it’s necessary—an interval of stillness before the next thing begins, whatever that may be. And for now, that’s enough.
Imagine you’re having a conversation with someone. You’ve been exchanging intimate details about your lives, and you feel safe enough to share something deeply vulnerable, like:
“My mother died of cancer when I was ten. I still feel an emptiness when thinking about it.”
But to your astonishment, the other person replies:
“Still? After all these years? Come on, you gotta move on!”
I bet you’d feel hurt, confused, and would react with the typical fight, flight, or freeze response. You might take it personally and decide never to share anything with that person again. Correct?
When we open up to others, we must accept that vulnerability comes with risk—of criticism, misinterpretation, unsolicited advice, or outright dismissal. A conscious approach, though, isn’t always possible; sometimes we’re just flowing through a conversation. But ideally, we should learn to protect ourselves in any circumstance.
In a perfect world, this vulnerability would be met with empathy, compassion, maturity, and intuition—elements that create a safe space for intimate connection. But as we know, the world is far from ideal.
That said, no meaningful relationship—of any kind—exists without occasional disappointment. We tend to expect more from those we allow close to us, but expectations often undermine relationships, just like comparison robs us of happiness. We must remain rooted in ourselves, closer to our inner compass than to the urge to close gaps with the people around us. And it’s our responsibility to shape communication in ways that feel safe and respectful for all parties—through honest expression, clear boundaries, and mutual understanding.
The ability to shape a relationship should go hand-in-hand with choosing them wisely: developing the sensitivity to recognize early on which people will require the least emotional effort to maintain healthy communication.
Still, we may go through periods where solitude feels like the better choice. Not because we reject connection, but because we’re exhausted—tired of investing in yet another relationship or friendship that drains us. Even then, we must sit with our inner demons—grappling with thoughts of the past, present, and future, and confronting the psychological obstacles our mind constantly elaborates.
There are also those moments when life seems to place only annoying or immature people in our path. And let me be clear: I’m not here to criticize such people. I’ve been that person. You’ve probably been that person. Humility and the awareness that we’re all works in progress can help not just us, but others too.
One small, recurring thing I try to do when I feel hurt, misunderstood, dismissed, or belittled in a conversation is to take responsibility for my feelings. First, I examine where they come from. Then I try to empathize with the other person—to understand what might have triggered their reaction. Sometimes, for example, people simply feel like shit and alone, and they want to drag others into their misery. It may be unconscious, but it’s still a mechanism—a pattern they’ve been repeating for a long time.
So the next time we find ourselves opening up, revealing intimate details, and receiving an offhand comment or a dismissive silence in return, we can try a simple practice: pause and identify the feeling the other person’s behavior triggered in us, then express it. A sentence like:
“When you dismissed what I said about how my mother’s death still makes me feel, I felt sad.”
is already a meaningful first step. It sounds simple, but it’s one of the hardest things to do in relationships—because most of us react to feelings instead of sitting with them, and finding the courage to acknowledge them to ourselves and share them with others.
If this sparked your curiosity, I encourage you to read Nonviolent Communication: A Language of Life by Marshall B. Rosenberg and A New Earth by Eckhart Tolle. These were two fundamental books for my development and growth over the last years.
