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Dear Me (Pantone 18-1659: Desire) 28/10/2025

Dear Me (Pantone 18-1659: Desire)

Dear Me (Pantone 18-1659: Desire) Stop zooming in to 6400% like you’re trying to find enlightenment between two pixels. You’re not a surgeon — you’re just a designer who keeps renaming files Final_FINAL_v3_ACTUALLY_THIS_ONE.

14/08/2025

Bl***ob, Finding Jesus, and The Happiness Scam for Graphic Designers
If you’ve ever tried to “find yourself,” you know it’s a scam. Some people find Jesus. Some find yoga. Some find a stranger in a bathroom stall at 3 a.m. Me? I found graphic design — which is basically all three, minus the salvation.

Happiness is the worst product ever sold. Wrapped in glossy self-help books, whispered through pastel Instagram quotes, and packaged in overpriced retreats with free green juice. Garbage. You think Picasso was happy? Hemingway? Hendrix? Miserable, raging sh*ts. Brilliant, yes. Happy, never.

They lived on ambition sharp enough to cut bone, egos big enough to block the sun, lust that could set a city on fire, and a deep, echoing hole no applause could fill. That hole is the real engine. No great work comes from balance, harmony, or “a healthy relationship with your job.” That’s for scented candles and Zoom mindfulness courses.

The stuff that lasts? Born from obsession, rage, insomnia, and the desperate need to matter before the universe forgets your name.

I’m a graphic designer. I know the hole well. I’ve decorated it. Kerned its edges. Color-corrected it until it screamed in Pantone 419 C. I’ve sat through endless revisions killing ideas one polite email at a time. “We love it, but…” — that’s our gospel.

And still, we preach passion. Pretending our work is our calling, when it’s really the drug that keeps us hooked: the need to be seen, heard, remembered — even for five seconds on a client’s Instagram before the next rebrand wipes us from history.

Do I know I’m part of this circus? Absolutely. Do I know it’s idiotic to stay? Without a doubt. But I’ll keep dragging pixels, picking fonts, and feeding the hole. Because the hole never fills.

Maybe that’s why people find Jesus. I just make my hole look holy in CMYK.

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