/about

I believe in open source not as a development model, but as a philosophy. GNU/Linux and FOSS represent digital sovereignty—the idea that users should control their technology, not be controlled by it. Proprietary systems may be convenient, but convenience without freedom is just another form of dependency.

Technology should serve people. I'm fascinated by GenAI and emerging tech, but not for novelty's sake. The question isn't "can we build this?" but "should we, and for whom?" Every system we architect ripples through real lives. That responsibility matters.

Leadership, to me, isn't about vision statements or org charts. It's about translating ideas into reality—sitting with teams at 2 AM debugging production issues, making hard calls on architecture, and knowing when to push forward versus when to step back and listen.

I care about craft. Code that's elegant. Systems that scale gracefully. Platforms that don't just work today but remain maintainable tomorrow. There's a certain beauty in well-architected technology that few outside this field understand—but those who do, they get it.

I live minimally. Not out of necessity, but out of choice. In a world drowning in noise, I find clarity in stripping away the unnecessary. Fewer possessions, clearer thoughts. Simple systems, profound impact.

This extends to my digital life. I don't use WhatsApp or Facebook—not just for privacy concerns, though those matter deeply. It's about intentionality. These platforms thrive on endless engagement, infinite scrolling, the illusion of connection while delivering information overload. I choose to limit my social media footprint, to be present where it matters, to guard my attention like the finite resource it is. Every notification I don't receive is time reclaimed for deeper thought.

There's a certain freedom in accepting the absurd—that perhaps there's no grand narrative, no predetermined meaning. Nietzsche taught me to create my own values in a godless universe. Dostoevsky showed me that suffering and struggle are where we find our humanity. Kafka reminded me that bureaucracy and systems can be as meaningless as they are inescapable.

I don't believe in waiting for meaning to reveal itself. Like the existentialists, I believe we create meaning through our choices, our actions, our commitments. Every line of code, every system I build, every person I mentor—these are conscious acts of creation in an indifferent universe.

Nihilism isn't despair. It's liberation. When nothing has inherent meaning, everything becomes possible. The terminal cursor blinks, waiting. The choice of what to type next is entirely mine.