Why People are Nice — Confessions of a Nice Guy

A photograph I took of my friend, M. Shot and shared with her consent.

But there’s one thing that never changed throughout this transformation.

I still spent far too many nights alone. I still went out to explore new places by myself. I still couldn’t talk to anyone when I needed to the most. And that hurt me. It still does.

I sometimes wonder how I turned out to be a decent human being.

My environment has certainly never nurtured it — I’ve lived in some fucked-up shit holes. I mean, abusive husbands and serial killers come out of the experiences I’ve survived, not nice guys.

But the moments when you can make a difference for someone don’t come back.

That’s the gold I’ll keep: the knowledge that I sacrificed what was mine to make a difference to someone. It doesn’t matter if nobody on the planet ever knows. It doesn’t even matter if the person I’m helping never knows.

Trading bot engineer, songwriter, sponsor of artists. <mika@myika.co>

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