Some people journal affirmations. I hoard words like they’re lovers I’ll never get over. My favorites? Meraki, Fuck, Puñeta. But let’s be real, that’s just the starter pack.
Some people collect stamps, I collect words. Three of them live rent-free in my mouth: Meraki, Fuck, Puñeta.
Meraki — a Greek word that describes the act of doing something with soul, creativity, or love, leaving a piece of yourself in the process. That’s how I cook, write, love (and sometimes why I crash so hard).
Fuck — the universal seasoning. Sprinkle it in frustration, joy, sarcasm, or bed sheets. It always hits.
Puñeta — my Boricua lifeline. Therapy in 3 syllables. Relief, anger, or just the right punchline when life goes sideways.
Together, these words are my survival kit. Meraki gives the soul, fuck gives the drama, puñeta gives the spice. The rest? They keep me from throwing myself off a balcony in San Juan.
So, yeah. Words matter. They’re how I cope, how I love, how I scream into the void.
Now tell me — what’s the one word that saves your ass?
Gracias por leerme,
Génesis 💫❤️🔥