When people talk about “plot armor,” itās usually in the context of TV shows and movies. It’s that sensation where the main character escapes seemingly impossible situations, as if the universe has a vested interest in keeping them alive. The protagonist faces insurmountable odds, but somehow, they always manage to come out unscathed because, well, theyāre the main character. In fiction, itās just a storytelling device. But in my life, it sometimes feels like Iāve somehow found a way to acquire this same kind of āplot armorāāparticularly when it comes to close calls with death.
This post was inspired by an incident that almost happened to me today, an event that, in the blink of an eye, couldāve been the one where I didnāt make it out. And yet, here I am, alive to reflect on it. But this isnāt the first time Iāve felt like Iāve narrowly avoided a disaster, and it wonāt be the last. The strange thing is, this isnāt just about one incidentāitās about how many times this has happened in my life. Over and over, Iāve found myself surviving situations that shouldāve ended very differently. It feels like the universe is justā¦ keeping me around, almost as if Iāve been granted some kind of invisible shield. Plot armor, if you will.
Now, before you start wondering if Iām living in some fictionalized world, I get itāplot armor is something you usually hear about in a TV show. You can almost hear the narrator saying, āAnd the hero survived, despite all odds.ā But as I reflect on my life, Iām starting to wonder if thereās something more to this idea. The concept of āplot armorā seemed absurd at first. Until, that is, I came across a YouTuber named Luna, aka Austin, a storytime YouTuber who recounts the bizarre and often dangerous situations heās found himself in over the years. In one of his videos, Austin described his life as having āplot armorāāthat he, too, had somehow managed to survive seemingly impossible situations simply because the universe wasnāt done with him yet.
At first, I thought it was a bit far-fetched. Sure, life can throw curveballs, but “plot armor”? That sounded like something straight out of a sitcom. But after today, when I narrowly avoided yet another life-threatening incident, I couldnāt help but think: Maybe Austinās onto something. Maybe āplot armorā isnāt just a fictional concept. Maybe thereās something about my own lifeāsomething about the way Iāve survived the oddsāthat feels eerily like Iāve been spared over and over for some reason.
Itās an odd sensation, and itās a feeling I canāt quite shake. When something happensāwhen danger looms, and the outcome seems inevitableāI often find myself walking away, unscathed. And Iām not talking about small mishaps here and there. Iām talking about moments where the stakes were high, where the situation couldāve easily ended in disaster. Yet, somehow, I made it through. I wasnāt injured, I wasnāt taken out of the story. I kept going, like the main character who somehow just canāt be killed off.
And thatās whatās so strange about this. Itās not just about surviving one or two close calls. Itās the recurring pattern. The fact that I can look back and pinpoint so many times Iāve narrowly escaped death or serious harm. In fact, thereās almost a strange comfort in itālike Iāve become accustomed to the idea that, for whatever reason, I seem to have some sort of protection from the most catastrophic outcomes. And Iām not alone in feeling this way. Austin, from the Luna channel, puts it into words better than I ever could. He, too, recognizes this weird phenomenon where life seems to conspire to keep him around. He talks about it as though his life is a series of miraculous escapes, where every time things get too close for comfort, he somehow slips through the cracks.
As absurd as it might sound, when I think back to all the times I shouldāve been injuredāor worseāthereās a part of me that believes that āplot armorā is the best way to describe it. Itās as if the universe is keeping me alive for some reason, even when I donāt deserve it. Thereās no logical explanation, no scientific reasoning behind it. Itās just a strange, inexplicable feeling that defies the laws of chance.
And this isnāt the kind of reflection I usually find myself having. But after todayās close call, I couldnāt shake the idea. I donāt know why Iāve been spared time and time again, but I have. Itās like Iāve been living through a series of āwhat ifsā that shouldāve gone a very different way. So, I began to wonder: Whatās the purpose of this? Why am I still here when so many others have not been as fortunate? And what does it mean for the future, for the next time I face an insurmountable challenge?
The truth is, I donāt have an answer. I donāt know if this “plot armor” I feel is real or if itās simply a psychological response to all the close calls Iāve survived. What I do know is that each of these moments of survival has had a profound effect on me. Theyāve made me question my own purpose, the meaning of my existence, and what Iām supposed to do with the time Iāve been given. Maybe, just maybe, Iām meant to do something important with the time I have left. Maybe these repeated escapes from death are guiding me toward something greater, something Iām still figuring out.
But for now, I continue to live, surrounded by this strange sense of being invincible, like the protagonist who just can’t be killed off. I donāt know when or how this streak of survival will end, but I do know that, for today at least, my plot armor remains intact.
And that, in itself, is something worth reflecting on.
A Prelude: Navigating the Darkness
Before I dive into the stories Iām about to shareābefore I take you on this strange journey through my life, where death seems to keep knocking on my door only to be pushed back by some invisible forceāI feel itās important to give you a heads-up. This post, in all honesty, is going to be one of the darkest Iāve ever written.
When you reflect on your life and the many times youāve brushed against death, the subject canāt help but carry weight. Sure, Iāll do my best to keep things as light and entertaining as possible. After all, this is my personal reflection, my way of processing the strange, surreal nature of these close calls. But letās not kid ourselves: death isnāt exactly the lightest topic. Itās heavy, itās final, and it carries with it a depth of emotion and consequence that can be uncomfortable to confront, especially for some.
So, I want to take a moment to address this before we continue. I know that, for some of you, this might not be the kind of post you want to read. Death, in all its rawness, is a subject thatās deeply personal and profoundly unsettling. Whether youāve lost someone close to you, or whether the idea of your own mortality is something youāre not ready to face, I get it. For some, this post might bring up feelings youāre not prepared to deal with. Itās the kind of topic that can trigger anxiety, grief, or even fear, and itās not something I want anyone to feel forced to engage with if itās not something they can handle.
So, if death, its inevitability, and the strange dance we do with it are topics youād prefer to avoid right now, or ever, I suggest you skip this one. And I say that with all due respect. Thereās no shame in that. Sometimes, we need to protect our minds and hearts from subjects that hit too close to home. If thatās where you are right now, I fully understand. Come back to this post when or if youāre ready, or donāt come back at allāthatās okay too. I want this space to be something that helps, not something that makes you feel worse.
For those of you who decide to stick around, Iām going to be as transparent as I can. This post is not just about surviving the close callsāitās about reflecting on why Iāve survived. It’s about coming face-to-face with my own mortality and the bizarre sense of plot armor that has, time and time again, kept me from crossing the line into something final. But in order to understand that, in order to truly grasp what it means to live with so many near-death experiences, I have to go deep. I have to address the reality of what death means and why it looms over my story like a shadow.
Death is a subject we all think about, even if we don’t always admit it. Itās woven into the fabric of human experience, whether weāre aware of it or not. And for some reason, Iāve had more moments than most to confront it head-on. And no matter how much I try to downplay itāno matter how much I attempt to make light of itāthe truth is that these experiences have shaped me in ways Iām still learning to understand. But it hasnāt been easy. If anything, itās left a mark, a sense of darkness that follows me, no matter how many times I escape its grip.
So, if youāre still with me, I want to warn you: what follows will not be easy. There will be moments of reflection, of grappling with the fragility of life and the randomness of survival. There will be stories of close calls that, in retrospect, feel almost impossibleāstories that make me wonder if fate had a hand in keeping me alive. And in telling these stories, I will also be confronting my own emotions around life and death, which arenāt always as neat and tidy as Iād like them to be.
But in the end, I hope that these stories donāt just serve as a catalog of bizarre moments of survival. I hope that, somehow, they convey something deeper about the human condition. About what it means to survive, to keep going in spite of everything, and to try to make sense of it all. I hope that by sharing these experiences, I can begin to unravel the mystery of why Iām still here and what it means for meāand maybe, for you, too.
So, to recap: if youāre here to read something light, something that doesnāt involve lifeās heavy realities, this might not be the post for you. And if thatās the case, thereās no hard feelings. Take care of yourself. But for those who decide to read on, know that weāll be exploring some deep and dark territory. Itās not going to be easy, but it will be real. And if nothing else, it will be an honest exploration of what it feels like to survive when, in all probability, you probably shouldnāt have.
With that, letās begin.
First Close Call: The Parking Lot Sprint
There are certain moments in life that seem so insignificant at the time, so ordinary, that you wouldnāt think twice about them. And yet, looking back, they stand out. Theyāre the moments where, if just one small thing had gone differently, everything could have changed in an instant. One of those moments for meāprobably the first one I can really rememberāhappened when I was barely three years old. It was so early in my life that I donāt even remember the specifics of that day. But I do remember the feeling, the vivid memory of what happened right before everything could have gone sideways.
It was one of those days where my mom and I were running errandsānothing too exciting, just the usual mundane tasks of going from one place to the next. We hit a few stores, got some things, and eventually, we grabbed lunch to-go. It was a typical outing for a young kid and his mom, the kind of thing that would blend in with a thousand other days. But, as Iāll explain, it wasnāt like every other day.
I donāt remember exactly how it happened, but thereās one part of that day that Iāll never forget. I donāt know if it was boredom, excitement, or simply the curiosity of a young child, but for some reason, when we were walking through the parking lot, I decided to take off. Without thinking, without hesitation, I just bolted. Full speed. Across the parking lot.
Now, I donāt know what went through my head at that moment. Maybe I was testing my speed. Maybe I was just being a reckless little kid, eager to get from one place to another. Either way, I ran with absolutely no awareness of my surroundings. I didnāt look both ways, I didnāt pay attention to the cars that were moving through the lot, and I definitely didnāt consider the fact that there was a lot of potential for something to go terribly wrong.
For a split second, I remember feeling like I was flying, like I was invincible. I could feel the wind rushing past me, and everything else just faded away. But hereās the thingāI wasnāt invincible. In fact, the odds were stacked against me. A parking lot is a dangerous place for anyone, let alone a three-year-old who hasnāt developed the sense of caution that most adults have. I couldāve tripped and fallen. I couldāve darted in front of a moving car, or worse, under one. The possibilities for disaster were endless.
But as I look back on it now, I realize how lucky I was. For whatever reason, the cars around me either saw me or didnāt hit me. I didnāt trip. I didnāt fall. I made it to the other side of the parking lot without a scratch. But it couldāve turned out so differently, couldnāt it? If a driver hadnāt been paying attention, if Iād stumbled, if Iād made one wrong move, I wouldnāt be here writing this post. I wouldnāt be sharing this story with you.
As a kid, I didnāt know it at the time, but thatās one of those moments where my life could have been over before it really even began. Itās strange to think about, but that single, careless moment could have marked the end of my story. The fact that Iām even able to reflect on it now is nothing short of a miracle. If a car hadnāt seen me, or if Iād fallen under one, I wouldāve never made it out of that parking lot. My life, my whole future, wouldāve been erased in an instant. And I wouldnāt have had the chance to share any of this with you.
I donāt often think about this moment, but every now and then, when I reflect on how Iāve survived so many close calls, I canāt help but think back to this one. It wasnāt my first run-in with death, but it was the first one where I can look back and say, āThat couldāve been it.ā I was a little kid, sprinting across a parking lot like it was no big deal, and yet it was one of those pivotal moments in my life, a moment that I survived when I really shouldnāt have.
Itās a strange thing to think aboutāhow so many of the things we do as kids, things that seem harmless at the time, can turn out to be much more dangerous than we realize. We take risks without thinking, not fully understanding the consequences. But in my case, I was lucky. In fact, Iāve been lucky more times than I can count. That moment in the parking lot is just the first of many close calls Iāll talk about, but it serves as a reminder that life doesnāt always play out the way we expect. Sometimes, itās just a matter of chance, of timing, and of a little bit of luck.
Looking back on that day, I canāt help but think about how fragile life really is. How a single decision, a split second of action, can change everything. Itās humbling, in a way, to realize that Iām here now because the universe decided that it wasnāt my time yet. Maybe thereās some kind of greater force at play. Maybe itās just luck. Either way, I made it through that day, and Iām still here to tell the story.
The Pizza Incident: Choking on Life
As I look back on my life, itās funny how certain moments stand out. Some of the things we think weāll forget over timeāsmall incidents, brief encountersāactually end up sticking with us for years. One of those moments happened when I was still pretty young. I donāt remember the exact details or timeline, but it happened around the same time as a few other close calls. It was one of those instances where I had no idea just how dangerous things were until after the fact. And even then, I probably didnāt fully understand the weight of it. But I remember it well enough to know that it was one of the first times I came close to dying without even realizing it at the time.
It was an ordinary day. My grandma and I were out running errands, and we decided to grab some pizza. Sounds simple enough, right? We probably went to one of those old-school pizza joints, the kind where the pizzaās always hot and fresh, and the crustās a little crunchy on the edges. I can almost taste it now. My grandma was always good about treating me to little things like that. A simple outing for pizza. What could go wrong?
But thatās where I made my mistake. I donāt know if it was excitement, or just being a kid with a ravenous appetite, but I ate way too much, way too fast. I wasnāt thinking about how much I was consuming or taking the time to chew. I was in a rushāmaybe because it was delicious, or maybe I was just too impatient. Whatever it was, I swallowed a bit too quickly, and all of a sudden, I felt something was off. The familiar, heavy sensation of food not quite going down right. That tightness in my chest. The sensation that my throat was closing up.
I started to panic. I couldnāt breathe. I couldnāt swallow. It was one of those terrifying, helpless moments where you realize that youāve done something irreversible, and now youāre at the mercy of whatever happens next. I can still remember that feeling, that sinking realization that I might not make it out of this. But luckily, my grandma was there, and she acted quickly. With a calmness I now appreciate (and probably didnāt fully understand at the time), she helped me dislodge the food from my throat. She saved me. I donāt know how she did it, but in the moment, her actions were the difference between life and death.
I couldāve easily choked right then and there. It couldāve been the end of me, right there in that pizza parlor. And in that moment, I realized how fragile life really is. Itās one of those close calls where you donāt realize how much danger you were in until the danger has passed. But I remember it. The terror of not being able to breathe, of feeling like the air was being stolen from my body. And I remember the relief when I could finally breathe again.
But hereās the thingādespite that terrifying experience, despite that close call with death, pizza has remained one of my favorite foods. Youād think something like that would be enough to make me swear off pizza for good, right? But no, thatās not how life works. I still love pizza. It didnāt take away my appetite for it. In fact, it became one of those moments I reflect on every time I take that first bite of a slice, savoring the taste and remembering just how close I came to not being around to eat it again.
What that incident did teach me, though, was a lesson Iāve carried with me to this day: never underestimate the importance of being careful when eating. Itās one of those simple things that we take for granted, until something goes wrong. We eat without thinking about how much weāre consuming, how quickly weāre swallowing, or whether or not weāre chewing properly. But in that moment, choking on pizza, I learned a valuable lesson: respect your food, and respect the act of eating. Because something as simple as not chewing enough could have cost me my life.
Iāve been more mindful ever since, and thatās a lesson Iāll never forget. Itās a weird thing to think that something as mundane as eating could lead to such a big lesson about life. But here we are, and Iām still here, with pizza still high on my list of favorite foods. But every time I eat it, I think back to that dayāmy grandmaās calmness, the fear in my chest, and the reminder that life can change in the blink of an eye.
The Penny Incident: Mistaking Danger for Candy
Ah, the things we do as kids. The dumb decisions, the moments where we act without thinking, without realizing the potential consequences. Itās a miracle any of us make it through childhood, honestly. After the pizza incident, I thought Iād learned my lesson about being careful with what I eat. But noālife had another lesson waiting for me, one that was probably even dumber than the first. This time, I swallowed a penny.
Yeah, you read that right. A freakinā penny. Youād think after nearly choking on pizza, Iād have been a little more cautious about what went into my mouth. But sometimes, weāre just not thinking. And as ridiculous as it sounds, I honestly thought that penny was one of those candy coins you get around the holidays. You know, the ones that look like a chocolate coin wrapped in shiny foil? Well, there I was, probably a little too excited about the shiny object in my hand, thinking it was candy, and in one careless moment, I popped it into my mouth.
It wasnāt until Iād swallowed it that I realized what Iād done. The instant panic hit. I mean, how stupid can you be, right? But the panic wasnāt just about the fact that Iād swallowed a penny. It was about the sheer terror of knowing that I had no idea what would happen next. What if I choked on it? What if it got stuck? I had no clue what would come of it, and that fear was palpable, making me feel like an idiot for thinking I could just eat a coin like it was a piece of candy.
Luckily for me, the whole situation wasnāt as catastrophic as it couldāve been. I didnāt choke. I didnāt need a Heimlich maneuver or any kind of emergency intervention. I was able to cough it up, after a few minutes of struggling and gagging, and finally managed to dislodge the penny from my throat. It wasnāt a clean, easy thing, but I survived. I remember the feeling of relief as I finally cleared my airway, a mix of triumph and shame.
But, honestly, I canāt think of a dumber thing I couldāve done at that age. The whole situation was just embarrassing in hindsight. What kind of kid confuses a penny with candy? The kind who thinks they’re invincible and canāt be bothered to really stop and think about whatās going into their body. But the danger was real. A coin like that could have easily gotten stuck in my windpipe, or worse, I couldāve choked on it completely and been done for.
It was one of those āwhat the hell was I thinkingā moments. I had a moment of sheer stupidity, thinking I could just eat a coin because it looked cool. It sounds almost comical now, but it was really terrifying at the time. And the worst part? I didnāt even learn my lesson right away. I was lucky enough to survive the penny incident, but it was one of those things that shouldāve been a wake-up call. If Iād been a little older or more aware of the risks, I mightāve realized that putting anything non-food in your mouth is a terrible idea. But nope. I didnāt.
Looking back, I laugh a little at how ridiculous the situation was, but it also serves as a reminder that sometimes we donāt learn our lessons the easy way. We learn them through dumb mistakes and close calls. That penny couldāve been the end of me. It wasnāt, but it couldāve been. And Iām lucky to have gotten away with it.
I never made the mistake of swallowing anything I wasnāt supposed to after that. At least, nothing as bad as a penny. But itās funny how close calls like these stick with you. How they remind you of the fragility of life, even when the threat seems as trivial as a tiny coin. That little penny couldāve been my undoing, and yet Iām still here, telling you about it. And while I donāt regret learning the lesson the hard way, I definitely wouldnāt recommend it to anyone else.
The Oven Fire: A Holiday to Remember (for all the wrong reasons)
Some stories stick with you, not because theyāre extraordinary, but because of the sheer panic and terror they invoke. This next close call, the one Iām about to share, is one of those stories thatās burned into my memoryānot just because of the intensity of the moment, but because of how quickly things could have gone from bad to catastrophic. And Iāve always known that, looking back on it, I was inches away from something truly awful. Itās one of those stories where the reality of the situation didnāt fully hit me until years later, and I wonder, even now, how I made it out of that one.
I donāt remember all the specificsāthe exact timeline, what holiday we were celebrating, or exactly what went wrong with the oven. But I do remember the fire. And thatās all that really matters when it comes to this story.
I think it was a holiday, maybe Christmas or Thanksgivingāsomething like that. The house was bustling with activity. Family gathered around, the kitchen full of smells and chatter. The kind of vibe that you associate with holidays when everythingās supposed to be merry and bright. But in that moment, things couldnāt have been further from that. The oven, which was working overtime to cook a massive meal, started to act up. At first, it was just a little bit of smoke, a sign that something wasnāt quite right. But then, as the minutes ticked by, the smoke started pouring out of the oven, thick and dark, filling the kitchen with an ominous, choking haze.
I didnāt know what was happening at the time. I was probably too young to fully understand what was going on, but I knew enough to know that it wasnāt normal. The situation quickly escalated, and suddenly, it wasnāt just smoke anymore. There were flames. Inside the oven. I remember seeing them flicker behind the glass door, this burst of heat and light that shouldnāt have been there. Thatās when the panic set in. It was surreal. The fire wasnāt a small thing. It was enough to make you realize, with a cold clarity, that this could get out of control. Fast.
We had to call the fire department. There was no other choice. The fire was growing, and there was no way we could handle it ourselves. It was one of those moments where, in the span of seconds, you go from seeing an annoying cooking problem to realizing youāre in real danger. I can still feel that moment of sheer fear, when the reality of the fire hit me. I didnāt know if it was going to spread, or if the whole damn house was going to catch. All I knew was that the kitchen was filling with smoke, and there were flames right there in front of me, threatening to turn everything into chaos.
The fire department showed up quickly, thankfully. Iāll never forget the relief I felt when they burst through the door, ready to take control of the situation. They went straight for the oven, opening it up to douse the flames and clear out the smoke. It was a blur of actionāprofessional, calm, and efficientābut from where I was standing, it felt like everything was happening in slow motion. The smoke was thick enough that it felt like you couldnāt breathe. The flames inside the oven flickered and roared. It was scary as hell.
Looking back now, itās easy to understand just how easily this could have turned into a disaster. Fires, especially ones like that, are unpredictable. They spread quickly, and if there had been even the slightest delay, it couldāve been game over. The fire couldāve consumed the entire kitchen, maybe even spread to the rest of the house. It was that serious. The flames in the ovenāhell, just the smokeāwere enough to make it clear that I was right on the edge of something potentially catastrophic.
Fires are no joke. They donāt care if itās a holiday. They donāt care about your plans or your comfort. Theyāre wild, destructive forces that donāt need much to grow into something lethal. And in that moment, I could feel itāthe sense of how easily it could all slip away. If the fire department hadnāt arrived when they did, if there had been any kind of delay, itās possible we wouldnāt have been able to stop the fire in time. If that oven had exploded, if the flames had spread, who knows what couldāve happened?
That fireāitās one of those memories that makes you appreciate just how fragile life is. How close we are, all the time, to things we canāt control. One moment, youāre sitting there, thinking everything is fine, and the next, the whole place is filled with smoke, flames licking at the edges of your vision. It couldāve been the end of me before I really understood what life even was.
And even though the fire department took care of everything, and the house was saved, itās one of those close calls that stays with you. You donāt forget the sound of smoke alarms, or the smell of charred grease, or the look of flames inside an oven. The whole thing was terrifying. But even though I was scared as hell in the moment, it didnāt hit me until later just how easily I couldāve lost everything.
It wasnāt just a fire. It was a reminder that life, in all its seemingly routine moments, can change in an instant. If Iād been even a few minutes later, if that fire had taken hold before we could get help, things could have gone south very quickly. But for whatever reason, it wasnāt my time. And as terrifying as it was, it was a close call Iāll never forget. It was a wake-up call, a sharp reminder that fires are nothing to mess withāand that life can change with a spark.
Tornadoes Twice: A Childhood of Close Calls and Fear
So, Iāve got some wild stories for you. And when I say wild, I mean freaking insane. Now, this next chapter in my life is one that has made me appreciate the fragility of things in a whole new way. Iām talking about tornadoes. Yeah, you read that right. I survived not one, but two close calls with tornadoes. Two different states. A few years apart. Itās crazy when you think about it because most people will never even come close to experiencing one in their lifetime, let alone two. But somehow, it seems like tornadoes just had it out for me, and I got to know them up close and personal.
Letās start with the first one. I think it happened when we were on our way to Florida. I donāt remember the exact date, but I was pretty young, maybe around 10 or so. We were driving through Georgia, minding our own business, headed to the sunshine state, when out of nowhere, everything started to change.
The sky got dark, like real dark, the kind of dark that feels unnatural. It wasnāt just cloudyāit was oppressive. And then, almost instantly, it started to hail. Big, painful chunks of ice started smashing against the car. And the rain. It was coming down so hard that it felt like the world was just being drowned in water. The wind picked up like a freight train, howling and whipping around us. I remember the car shaking as the wind slammed against it, and I thought, for sure, we were going to get blown off the highway.
At this point, we had no choice but to pull over and take cover. We found a gas station on the side of the highway, and as soon as we parked, my family and I scrambled to get inside. I donāt know how long we stayed there, but it felt like forever. The storm was crazy. It was a full-on tornado watch, and I could feel the panic setting in. In my head, I knew exactly what was happening. The storm felt wrong. It felt like it had all the ingredients for a tornado.
At the time, I had been watching a lot of Discovery Channel documentariesāespecially ones about tornadoes. I wasnāt really into cartoons or kid shows. I gravitated toward more āmatureā stuff for my age, like science documentaries. My family was probably more used to watching sitcoms or reality TV, but I was obsessed with learning about the world, especially natureās violent side. I remember watching documentaries where experts talked about the devastation tornadoes could cause and how quickly they could turn deadly. It was fascinating and terrifying in equal measure. And now, here I was, in a storm that felt like it could unleash one of those monsters.
It wasnāt just the hail or the rain that scared me. It was the wind. The gusts were so intense, I honestly thought the car would flip. And even scarier, I feared the gas station itself might get torn apart, with debris flying everywhere. I remember hearing the roar of the wind, a sound thatās impossible to forget once you’ve experienced it. It felt like the whole world was about to come apart at the seams. And, at that young age, I could tell something was coming. It wasnāt just a regular storm. This had the hallmarks of a tornado, and the reality hit me: I was a kid, and I knew exactly what was happening.
I didnāt know if the tornado was right there or if it was coming for us, but I knew what the storm could turn into. I donāt think many kids my age would have known what was going on, but thanks to all those hours spent watching documentaries, I knew exactly what I was looking at. And the feeling of helplessness is a tough thing to shake. Thereās nothing scarier than knowing exactly whatās coming and having no control over it.
Fortunately, the storm passed us without much of an issue. We didnāt get hit directly by the tornado, but just being in the thick of that intense weather was enough to make my heart race. We made it to a hotel shortly after to hunker down for the night. But for the rest of that trip, I couldnāt shake the feeling that I had just come face-to-face with something that could have ended everything in the blink of an eye.
That first experience was terrifying, but it wasnāt the last time a tornado would come too close for comfort. In fact, the second time I came face-to-face with one, things got even scarier. But thatās a story for later, and trust me, itās just as wild as the first.
Looking back on that first encounter with a tornado, I realize how much it stuck with me. Not just because of the storm itself, but because it was one of those moments where my childhood fear became real. Tornadoes had always been this thing Iād studied from a distance, something that was fascinating in its destructive power, but something that always felt like it was happening in another world, on the screen of a TV documentary. To have it come so closeāactually feel the intensity of it in personāwas something I wasnāt prepared for. It made me respect the power of nature in a whole new way, and oddly enough, it made me more afraid of tornadoes as I got older.
These days, when I hear about tornadoes hitting places theyāve never hit before, or when I see them pop up on the news, I feel that same sense of fear creeping in. Itās a weird thing to be scared of, but when youāve had not one, but two close calls, you start to realize that nature can be incredibly unpredictable. And no matter how many documentaries I watched or how much I thought I understood, nothing could prepare me for the raw, terrifying force of a real tornado.
The Long Island Tornado: A Second Close Call
If surviving one tornado was crazy, surviving two is like a nightmare that you canāt seem to shake. This second encounter took place in my own home state of New York, but in a place where most people donāt expect tornadoes to strike: Long Island. Itās hard to believe that a place like that, close to the city and surrounded by water, could be at risk for such extreme weather. But as Iām about to tell you, tornadoes donāt care about geography. They donāt care about your expectations. And I certainly didnāt expect to find myself in the middle of one a few years after that terrifying experience in Georgia.
This time, my family and I were on a weekend trip to Long Island, just another drive to get away from the city for a little while. It was just supposed to be a regular outingānothing too eventful. But, as we were driving home, things took a quick turn. The sky, once bright and clear, suddenly grew dark. Really dark. That foreboding kind of dark that you feel deep in your gut. And in that moment, I had that sinking feeling again. I didnāt even need to say anything out loud, but in my head, I thought, āAh shit, here we go again.ā It was like a flashback to the tornado experience in Georgia a few years before. The storm was coming. I just knew it.
A few minutes later, the weather went from bad to worse. The hail came down hardābig chunks of ice slamming against the car. Then the rain started, coming in sheets so heavy you could barely see anything ahead of you. The wind kicked up like a freight train, howling as it whipped around us. It wasnāt just a bad storm. I knew what was happening. I recognized the signs from the first time, and the familiar feeling of panic started creeping in.
Now, here’s the thing about the local roads in Long Island: they move slow as hell. Thatās the understatement of the year. Thereās always trafficāconstant, stop-and-go. And when youāre stuck in traffic during a storm like that, itās the worst possible place to be. I mean, most people on the road had no idea what was coming, but we knew. We had that experience with the tornado in Georgia a few years before, and we werenāt about to take any chances. So, while everyone else was inching forward at a snailās pace, we made the call to get onto the highway. The highway might have been a bit faster, and we knew that the longer we stayed on the local roads, the higher the chances were that weād get stuck in the storm, in traffic, with nowhere to go. If the tornado hit while we were in traffic, that wouldāve been the worst-case scenario. Thereād be no escape.
We didnāt want to find out what would happen if we stuck around, so we immediately made a move for the highway. But of course, once we got there, we didnāt exactly escape the storm. We ended up driving through it. The rain, the wind, the hailāthere was no way around it. It was like we were driving right into the heart of the beast. We couldnāt pull over anywhere, and there was no place to stop, no shelter to run to. We were just driving, hoping the storm would pass.
I donāt think Iāll ever forget how it felt in that moment. The wind was so strong, it felt like it could rip the car right off the road. The rain was coming down so fast that it was hard to see even a few feet in front of us. And the hail was still slamming against the windows, making this terrifying racket. It wasnāt just a storm anymore. It felt like a full-blown tornado was right on top of us, just waiting to make its move. But we kept going. We had no choice. Stopping wasnāt an option.
And in the end, we made it through. The storm passed us. The winds died down, the rain let up, and we were able to breathe again. We found a safe spot to pull over and wait it out. But even after the storm had passed, there was this weird sense of disbelief. We had just driven through a tornado. A real tornadoāor at least, what was probably a tornado, given the conditions. And we were lucky to have gotten out of it unscathed.
What struck me most about that experience wasnāt just the storm itself, but the fact that it happened so close to homeāLong Island, a place you never think of when you think of tornadoes. Growing up, I never thought tornadoes would come anywhere near me. But that storm proved me wrong. And whatās even crazier is that years later, New York would start to see more and more of this insane, unpredictable weather. Tornadoes, floods, heatwavesāeverything we thought was āout of the ordinaryā was quickly becoming the norm.
And what made that second close call even more insane is that it wasnāt just a freak accident. It wasnāt just a one-time thing. Tornadoes in Long Island? It shouldnāt have been possible, but there we were. A few years earlier, I had learned to fear tornadoes. And now, I had learned that it didnāt matter where you lived. If the conditions were right, the storm would find you, whether you were ready for it or not.
The strange part? I think Iāve become even more afraid of tornadoes since that experience. As wild as it was, Iām not sure if the fear has ever really gone away. Itās one of those things that stays with you. Especially now, when the weather seems to be getting more unpredictable every year. And while this wasnāt the last time I encountered crazy weather, or even tornado-like conditions, Iāll save the story of the third close call for later. But just know that the second one, in Long Island, was just as close and just as insane as the first one in Georgia. And whatās even crazier is that they happened almost back to back. Itās a lot for a kid to process, but somehow, I managed to survive both of them. Tornadoes were no longer just a thing I saw on TV. They were real, and they were out there, waiting for you when you least expected it.
The Outlet Incident: Sparking Trouble
Iām not proud of this one. In fact, I cringe every time I think about it, but Iām going to share it anyway because itās one of those dumb moments where I narrowly escaped a disaster that couldāve ended my story before it really began. This next story took place a few years before the tornado incidentsābefore I had a proper grasp on how dangerous things could be when youāre not thinking. But looking back, it was one of those close calls that makes you realize just how lucky you can be when you’re a dumb kid playing with things you donāt fully understand.
So, let me set the scene: I was a real curious kid, the kind who liked to explore things, touch things, test things out, and yeahāsometimes that curiosity led to poor decisions. One day, for reasons I canāt quite explain (because honestly, thereās no good reason for what I did), I found myself staring at one of those brass clip things. You know the kindāthose little metal clips that are used to attach things or keep things in place? Well, like the idiot I was, I thought, āHey, I wonder what happens if I stick this thing in an outlet?ā Yeah. I know. Real brilliant, right?
Without even considering the consequences, I decided to go ahead and stick that brass clip into the outlet. Almost instantly, the thing started sparkingābright, violent sparks flying out of the socket. It was one of those moments where time seemed to slow down, and I could feel the blood drain from my face as I realized, oh shit, this could end really badly. I was frozen in place for a second, just staring at the sparks, not knowing what to do. The sound of the electrical current crackling was like a constant reminder of how dangerous this whole situation was. In the back of my mind, I knew that I was messing with something I shouldnāt have been. But like most young kids who have no sense of mortality, I didnāt fully understand the consequences.
Naturally, I was terrified. I couldnāt touch it. I didnāt know if it was about to blow up or short-circuit or what, but I knew I wasnāt about to get electrocuted on purpose. So, I did the logical thingāI left it alone. For a while. I thought maybe if I just ignored it, itād stop and go away. It didnāt. The sparks stopped after a minute or so, but I was left with the horrifying thought that this could have been much worse.
But hereās the thing: being the reckless idiot that I was, I couldnāt just leave it like that. I knew that if anyone found out what Iād done, Iād be in major trouble. So, instead of learning my lesson and leaving it alone, I went back to it. I decided to remove the brass clip from the outlet. But when I did, I was hit with another wave of fear. The metal was charredāburned black from where it had been stuck in the outlet. It was a stark reminder of just how dangerously close Iād come to electrocuting myself or causing a fire. The whole thing had been terrifying. And looking at that charred clip, I realized how easily it could have ended.
We all know how this story could have gone differently. If I had been any less lucky, I couldāve been electrocuted, seriously injured, or worse. I couldāve started a fire. I couldāve hurt someone else. It was one of those moments where I just happened to get away with it. But the reality is, it could have gone horribly wrong, and I was incredibly lucky that it didnāt.
Iām sure at the time, I thought it was a harmless thing to doājust a dumb experiment or a silly mistake. But looking back, I realize how reckless it was. The whole situation was a huge reminder that when it comes to electricity, you donāt mess around. You donāt stick things into outlets for fun. Itās one of those risks that can cost you your life in an instant. And as dumb as it sounds, I learned that lesson the hard way.
I think about that moment every once in a while. How something as simple as a brass clip and a moment of curiosity couldāve led to something tragic. But somehow, I made it through. And while I was lucky then, I know I wonāt be so lucky next time if I donāt start thinking more about the consequences before I act. It was a close call, no doubt, and one that really makes you appreciate the moments when you donāt get hurt, because not every close call has a happy ending.
The Darkest Times: A Struggle with Self-Unaliving Thoughts
What Iām about to share is some of the heaviest stuff Iāve ever talked about, and truthfully, itās something I never thought Iād bring up in a public way. But here I am, opening up about it, because I think itās important. This is a part of my story that I donāt like to talk about, but itās been a major part of who I am, for better or for worse. And, I hope that if thereās anything someone can take from this, itās that life can be difficult, but you donāt have to go through it alone.
There were threeāmaybe fourātimes in my life where I reached what felt like the lowest point a person could go. Iāve had some struggles that Iām not proud of, moments where I thought about self-unaliving, moments when I couldnāt see a way out of the darkness. And while I never actually went through with it, the thought itself was real. It was something that crept into my mind, and it weighed heavily on me in ways that words canāt fully capture. But Iām here now, still alive, and for whatever reason, I feel the need to talk about it. So, Iām going to share this with you. Not for pity, not for attention, but because I want to be honest about the things that shaped meāand maybe someone reading this can find solace in knowing that theyāre not alone if theyāve ever felt this way.
The first time I reached that point was back in 5th grade. Honestly, I donāt even remember what year it was, but I remember how it felt. That year, I was bullied worse than I ever had been before. I went to multiple schools that year, and with each new school came more isolation, more hurt, more loneliness. The bullying got to me in ways I didnāt fully understand at the time. I was a kid, and kids are supposed to be carefree, right? But for me, that year was filled with self-doubt, emotional scars, and a dark place that I couldnāt escape from. I remember talking about it to a few people, mentioning how badly I felt, how low I was getting. I was dealing with real, heavy shit, and as a kid, you donāt know how to process that kind of pain. It was too much for me to carry, and I genuinely thought there was no way out of it.
Years later, in 2013, I found myself in a similar place, but this time, it was different. I was in high school, and the pain was more internal. This time, it wasnāt the bullyingāit was a personal relationship, or rather, the lack of one. There was someone I cared about deeply. I had strong feelings for them, and I truly believed that we could have something. But those feelings werenāt returned, and it shattered me. I was devastated. The emotional toll was far greater than I ever anticipated, and the weight of unrequited love was crushing. I remember feeling like I couldnāt get out of my head. I was a mess inside. The feelings of loneliness, rejection, and hopelessness took over. For the second time in my life, the thought of self-unaliving crept into my mind again. I didnāt act on it, but the thought was there. And that, in itself, was terrifying.
Then came 2019. Honestly, I would say that year was the worst of my life. Before 2019, I would have said 2013 was my worst year, but now, looking back, I see that 2019 was the year I hit rock bottom. That year, I lost my uncle, and it hit me harder than I ever thought it could. He was someone I was close to, and the grief was overwhelming. It tore at me in ways that I couldnāt explain, and I found myself spiraling into a deep depression. The sadness and isolation I felt during that time were almost suffocating. I didnāt know how to deal with it. I didnāt know how to cope. I thought I was never going to be okay again. And once again, the thought of self-unaliving came creeping back into my mind. The darkest I had ever felt, and I couldnāt see a way out.
Even though I didnāt act on any of these thoughts, they were real. They were real feelings, and they still lingered long after those moments passed. It was a heavy burden to carry, and looking back now, I can see how much those times shaped me. 2019 was particularly brutal because I understood the weight of loss in a way I never had before. I was in my 20s, and you always think your 20s are supposed to be this fun, carefree time in your life. For me, my 20s were hell. I donāt think I ever realized how bad things could get until that year. It was a decade of constant struggle, a decade filled with one mess after another. But, I survived. Somehow. Even when everything seemed impossible, I kept going.
Then, more recently, in 2025, I found myself at that point once again. I was 28, turning 29, and everything about that year felt like it was falling apart. I was physically sick, really sick. It was isolating, exhausting, and I was mentally drained. The physical pain became a mental burden, and the isolation I felt was overwhelming. I thought I was going to lose it. And once again, the thought of self-unaliving came back into my mind. I didnāt act on it. I didnāt do anything. But that was the fourth time in my life I had to battle those feelings. And let me tell you, they never get easier. But somehow, Iām still here.
Now, you might be wondering, why am I talking about this now? Why bring up this heavy stuff? Well, I think itās important to share because, like I said earlier, this is a part of who I am. Itās part of my journey. And I want people to know that if youāre struggling, youāre not alone. If youāre going through something and you feel like you canāt handle it, just know that itās okay to ask for help. Itās okay to reach out to someone. Itās okay to seek support. You donāt have to carry this weight on your own. You donāt have to go through this darkness without someone by your side. There are people who care about you. There are resources available to help you. Donāt be afraid to look for them.
What Iāve learned from these struggles is that life is fragile. It can feel like everything is falling apart, but there is always hope. Even when you canāt see it, itās there. And one of the most important lessons Iāve learned, especially since 2019, is not to take life for granted. Not to take the people you love for granted. You never know when it could be the last time you see them. You never know when your life could change in a way you didnāt expect. So, appreciate what you have, and appreciate who you have in your life. Even when things feel unbearable, remember that you donāt have to face them alone.
Life isnāt always going to be easy, and it certainly hasnāt been easy for me. But Iām still here. Iām still fighting. I donāt have everything figured out, and honestly, Iām still a work in progress. But Iām doing my best. And thatās enough. Sometimes, just doing the best you can is enough. We all have our struggles, and we all have our battles. But as long as weāre still here, we still have a chance. And that, to me, is worth fighting for.
The Fast and Furious Crosswalk: A Close Call with an Angry Driver
After the heaviness of the previous stories, I figured it might be time to switch gears and share a lighter, yet still insane, story about almost meeting my end in a way I never expected. Sometimes, life throws you curveballs, and I swear, this one felt like something straight out of an action movie.
This story takes place years before 2013, back in high school, during one of those ordinary days where nothing out of the ordinary was supposed to happen. I was walking home from the bus stop, just a few blocks from my house, minding my own business. It was one of those routine walks that you take for grantedānothing to worry about, right? Wrong.
As I was crossing the street, I had the right of way, walking in the crosswalk like a law-abiding citizen. Everything seemed fineāuntil, out of nowhere, this absolute maniac comes barreling down the road. And I mean barreling. The guy was speeding like he was in the fucking Fast & Furious, weaving through traffic like he had a deadline with death. But here’s the kicker: the guy was driving an old beater, a car that looked like it shouldāve been in the junkyard rather than on the road. And yet, he was gaining speed faster than I could process.
Now, this was one of those “holy shit” moments where everything suddenly turns into slow motion. I had mere seconds to react, and instinct kicked in. Without thinking, I started sprinting like my life depended on itābecause it kind of did. The dude was coming at me, and I didnāt know if he was going to stop or if Iād end up getting run over like a damn movie scene.
Somehow, I made it to the other side of the street just in time. I barely cleared the car, my heart pounding in my chest. And what happened next made the whole situation even weirder. As the car screeched past, I glanced over and saw the driver. The dude was raging. Like, losing his damn mind. He was yelling and gesturing from inside the car, furious that I was crossing the streetāin a crosswalk, mind youālike it was my fault he was speeding like a lunatic.
The whole thing was so bizarre. Here I am, a teenage kid just trying to get home, and this grown-ass man is driving like he’s auditioning for a stunt double in some action flick, and then getting pissed off at me for crossing the street. What the hell kind of logic is that? Itās like he had some serious issues if he was willing to put all that energy into being mad at a teenager simply following the damn rules.
Honestly, I donāt even remember much about the car itselfāexcept that it was a beat-up, rusting pile of metal. But Iāll never forget the look on that guyās face. He was so angry, so irrational, and for a second, I thought he was going to swerve at me on purpose. But I guess the adrenaline kicked in, and I managed to clear the way just in time.
Looking back, itās kind of laughable in a way. I mean, really? A grown man getting that mad about a kid crossing the street? But at the same time, it was pretty damn scary in the moment. If I hadnāt acted fast, things could have turned out a lot differently. I couldāve been one of those freak accidents that you hear about, a pedestrian taken out by some idiot driver. But I didnāt, and here I am, telling the story.
And honestly, it makes me think about people like that guyāangry, irrational, and ready to lash out at anyone around them. That dude had some serious issues to work through. Maybe if he hadnāt been so pissed off about a simple crosswalk, he couldāve realized that there was no reason to speed like a maniac and endanger someone elseās life.
Anyway, I think this storyās a good reminder that sometimes, death doesnāt come in the form you expect. You might be minding your own business, thinking youāre safe, and then out of nowhere, a car comes speeding at you like itās on a mission. Life is unpredictable like that, and you never really know when somethingās going to throw you off course. But sometimes, a close call can leave you with a pretty funny story to tell afterward. And honestly, Iāll take the sprint to safety and the angry driver over being run over any day.
The Klutz Chronicles: Close Calls with Gravity
Alright, hereās a fun one for you. If youāve been following along, youāve probably gathered that Iāve had my fair share of close calls. But what if I told you that some of those close calls were simply because I canāt seem to keep my balance? Yep, Iām a certified klutz. Iāve lost count of how many times Iāve nearly taken a nosedive into oblivion. And, let me tell you, gravity and I have a very complicated relationship. Most people just walk around like itās no big deal, but for me, gravity is like an ever-present threat, always waiting for me to slip upāliterally.
These moments donāt happen on any specific year; theyāve spanned across my entire life. And they all share a similar theme: me almost eating dirt, but somehow managing to avoid it. Sometimes, itās because I was too damn careless. Other times, itās just plain bad luckāor maybe good luck, considering I didnāt end up in the hospital. But here are a few of the more notable incidents that stand out in my memory, for better or worse.
Letās start with the first one: the deck incident. At some point in my life, I had to live with a deck attached to the back of the house. It wasnāt a massive deck, but it was high enough to create a real risk if I wasnāt careful. And, as you probably guessed, I wasnāt careful. One moment, I was out there, minding my own business, walking around like a normal personāuntil I wasnāt. I lost my footing. Just a tiny slip, but it was enough to send me wobbling towards the edge. In a panic, I threw myself in the other direction and somehow caught myself before I toppled over the edge. If Iād gone down, it wouldnāt have been a little tumble. No, it wouldāve been a straight-up disaster, probably resulting in some broken bones or worse. But instead, I somehow avoided disaster and walked away unscathed, though a little more humbled.
Then thereās the time I almost fell down the stairsāmultiple times. Yeah, thatās right, I canāt even safely navigate a flight of stairs. There were a few times when I was in a hurry, trying to rush down, when I misjudged my step and nearly went flying. It wasnāt even just onceāit happened more than Iād like to admit. On one particular occasion, I slipped halfway down, my foot twisted in that brief moment when youāre trying to catch yourself, and I swear I heard my life flash before my eyes. Luckily, I managed to grab the railing just in time and avoided what could have been a seriously painful fall. But again, my balance was clearly not my friend that dayāor any other day, for that matter.
And if you think falling down stairs is bad, try this on for size: I almost fell off an elevated driveway. Yeah. Donāt ask me how, but there was one time when I was walking along the edge of this driveway (I guess I wasnāt paying enough attention), and the next thing I know, Iām tilting dangerously to the side. For a second, I honestly thought I was going to fall right off the edge and down into the yard below. The drop wasnāt crazy high, but it was enough to seriously mess me up if I landed wrong. Luckily, I had a split second to correct myself and step back before I became a pile of human rubble. It was one of those āWhat the hell was I thinking?ā moments, but thankfully, gravity didnāt win that day.
Now, moving on to my biking adventures. Youād think biking would be the one thing I could do without falling, right? Wrong. One time, I was riding along a sidewalk, minding my business (I was probably distracted by something, knowing me), when I hit a patch of loose gravel. BoomāI started swerving, and for a brief moment, I thought I was going down for sure. The bike tipped this way, then that way, and my body was trying to make sense of the chaos. Somehow, I managed to stay uprightāthough my heart was pounding out of my chest. Iād say I shouldāve just gotten off and walked my bike, but no, my dumbass decided to ride it out, and miraculously, I didnāt eat dirt.
But the most terrifying close call of all? Chemistry class. Yeah, Iām not even exaggerating here. I was in high school chemistry class, and as we were experimenting with different chemicals, I somehow ended up in a situation where I almost dropped a bottle of some caustic chemical. If that bottle had hit the ground, or if I hadnāt caught it in time, well, letās just say the results would have been catastrophic. Not only could I have harmed myself, but the whole class wouldāve been in danger. You can imagine the sheer panic I felt when the bottle slipped from my hand for just a second. But, of course, the reflexes kicked in, and I managed to grab it before it hit the ground. But for that split second, I honestly thought I was about to make my teacherās worst nightmare come true.
So yeah, Iāve had a lot of close calls in my life, and most of them have happened because Iām just a clumsy mess. Iām like the human embodiment of a disaster waiting to happen. Whether itās slipping off a deck, tripping down the stairs, losing my balance on a bike, or almost starting a chemical fire in class, it seems like gravity is just waiting for me to slip up. But, somehow, Iāve managed to avoid death (or serious injury) each time. Maybe itās luck. Maybe itās just that Iāve become so accustomed to balancing on the edge of disaster that Iāve somehow mastered the art of escaping unscathed.
Either way, itās been a wild ride. And hey, at least Iāve got a ton of stories to tell about how close Iāve come to being taken out by sheer clumsiness. One thingās for sure: gravity and I have an ongoing relationship, but Iāll be damned if I let it win.
Close Calls with Dangerous Encounters: The Fear of Unpredictable Strangers
There have been several moments throughout my life, particularly in public spaces like train stations and platforms, when I found myself in situations that made me fear for my life. These werenāt your typical “bad day” scenariosāthese were moments where I genuinely thought I might not make it out unscathed. It wasnāt about accidents or natural disasters; no, it was about dangerous encounters with unpredictable strangers, some of whom were homeless or mentally unstable. And let me tell you, the fear of not knowing what someone might do in those situations is one of the most terrifying experiences you can have.
Itās one of those things you donāt really think about when youāre out and about, but once you’re in that situation, everything changes. You donāt realize how vulnerable you are until youāre in close proximity to someone whoās acting erratically. Whether itās someone talking to themselves, pacing back and forth, or just giving off an intense, erratic energy, you can feel the tension in the air. Itās not something you can put into words easily, but thereās this unspoken sense that something could go wrong at any moment. In those moments, the mind starts racing with worst-case scenariosāwhat if they lash out? What if theyāre carrying something dangerous? What if they decide to target me for no reason at all?
Itās a feeling Iāve had more than once in my life, and itās always unsettling. Youāre constantly calculating your next move, trying to stay alert, but at the same time, you donāt want to escalate the situation by making the wrong gesture or drawing attention. Youāre stuck between wanting to keep your distance and trying to not seem like youāre panicking, because doing so might make the person more agitated. Itās a balancing actāstay calm, stay aware, and pray that the situation doesnāt escalate into something you canāt get out of.
What makes these encounters even more terrifying is that you never know whatās going through someone elseās mind. Someone who seems totally harmless one moment can become a threat in the next, especially if theyāre not in their right mind. The unpredictability of it all is what makes it so frightening. You canāt plan for these situations, and you canāt predict how someone will act when theyāre in a heightened state. Itās a reminder of how fragile our safety can be, especially when youāre in a crowded public space and thereās no real way to avoid potential danger. You canāt always know whoās dealing with something mentally, emotionally, or even physically. And because of that, every encounter becomes a risk.
What Iāve learned from these experiences is that you have to trust your instincts. In moments like these, youāre not always in control of what happens, but you can control your awareness and your reaction. Staying alert and being prepared to act if things go south has kept me safe in situations where things could have easily gone wrong. Iāve learned to keep my distance, to avoid certain spaces when I feel something isnāt right, and to always be ready to move quickly if necessary.
Itās crazy how one second, you can feel totally safe, and the next, youāre questioning your ability to get out of a situation without harm. The unpredictability of people, especially those who may be struggling with mental health or addiction, means that you have to always be ready for anything. It’s a lesson in being present, being aware, and not taking safety for granted. And while Iām thankful that Iāve always made it out of these situations unscathed, itās the kind of fear that sticks with youāthe kind of fear that reminds you how fragile life can be when you least expect it.
When it comes to public spaces, especially places like transit stations, thereās always a sense of vulnerability. But itās also a reminder of how important it is to trust yourself and your instincts. The world is unpredictable, and the best we can do is stay alert and aware of the potential dangers around us.
The College Stairs: A Close Call That Could’ve Been a Wrap
Sometimes, life delivers close calls that you donāt quite forget. This next one happened during my college years, and itās a perfect example of my complete lack of coordination. I don’t remember the exact year, but I do remember the day, and the moment it happened is still so vivid in my mind.
I was walking to class, like I did any other day, when I approached a set of concrete stairs on campus. They were the kind of stairs you see outside of most buildingsāsteep, with concrete edges that seemed to mock anyone who wasnāt paying close attention. As I made my way toward them, I remember feeling the usual rush of being late or trying to make it to class on time, not really paying attention to my footing as I descended the stairs. Itās funny how you can be so focused on other things, like your schedule, that you forget something as simple as walking safely.
And thatās when it happened. I misjudged my step, and suddenly, I felt myself losing balance. In that split second, my entire body went into panic mode, and I could feel my legs wobbling beneath me. Time seemed to slow down as I teetered on the edge of disaster. If I had fallen headfirst, thereās no questionāthings would have ended very badly. The stairs were concrete, hard and unforgiving, and if I had lost control just a bit more, it wouldāve been a wrap for me.
By some miracle, I managed to catch myself just in time. I reached out and grabbed onto the railing, yanking myself back to safety before my body could take that final, devastating plunge. My heart was racing in my chest as I stood there for a moment, trying to process what had just happened. It was one of those near-death experiences that feels more surreal than anything. I had been just moments away from disaster, but somehow, I dodged it by a hair.
Looking back, itās almost absurd how easily I could have lost my life or at least been seriously injured just by doing something as mundane as walking down the stairs. It wasnāt a dramatic incident, but the fact that it felt so close to being something much worse stuck with me. Itās a humbling reminder that, sometimes, the smallest missteps can lead to life-altering consequences. One wrong move, and the outcome could have been entirely different.
I canāt help but laugh now when I think about itāanother klutz moment in my lifeās storyābut Iāll never forget how close it came to being so much more than just an embarrassing near-miss. Itās one of those close calls that couldāve been a game changer. But in the end, I made it out of it, and thatās what matters.
The Walk Bridge Bike Ride: A High-Speed Close Call
This next story happened during my college days, but not on campus. It was during summer break, when I was home. Like most people do during their time off, I was looking for ways to kill time. One of my favorite things to do was hop on my bike and go for a ride. It was a simple way to clear my head and get some fresh air, but one particular ride ended up being a lot more intense than I expected.
There was this one walk bridge I would often pass when heading back home. Normally, Iād just walk my bike across it because the bridge had a narrow path, and it wasnāt the easiest to ride on. But this particular day, I felt like switching things up. Instead of walking my bike like I usually did, I decided to ride it across.
And that was my first mistake.
As I started riding down the bridge, I quickly realized just how fast I was going. The bike was picking up speed, and I couldnāt slow it down. The more I tried to control it, the faster it seemed to go. The narrow path was quickly becoming a problemāthere were railings and posts on either side, and I felt like I was about to crash into one at any moment. The feeling of being out of control was overwhelming.
I started to panic. I could see the obstacles ahead and knew that if I didnāt get the bike under control, I was going to crash. Even though I was wearing a helmet, I knew that wouldn’t be enough to protect me from the kind of impact I was headed toward. I kept thinking, If I hit anything, it could end badly. Really badly.
Somehow, by the grace of luck or pure instinct, I managed to navigate the bike around the obstacles just in time. I donāt know how I avoided disaster, but I somehow made it to the end of the bridge, heart racing and adrenaline coursing through me. I took a moment to catch my breath and process what had just happened. It was one of those ātoo close for comfortā moments that left me shaken.
It may sound like a small thing, just riding my bike across a bridge, but sometimes those little momentsāwhen you decide to take a chance or do something just a little outside the normācan lead to the biggest close calls. If I had crashed, even with the helmet, it couldāve been serious. The speed and the force wouldāve made the fall incredibly dangerous.
Looking back, itās a reminder of how quickly things can go wrong when youāre not paying attention. A single moment of overconfidence or a wrong decision can change everything. But luckily for me, that time wasnāt it. That ride was a wake-up call to stay cautious and respect the limits, no matter how simple something seems.
The Bike Lane Close Call: Riding in Fear
This next story also involves my bike, and while Iām not entirely sure when it happened in relation to the walk bridge incident, it was definitely during my college daysāeither the same year, the year before, or the year after. I was pushing myself further than I usually did, venturing out to explore new areas, when I ended up in a situation that really opened my eyes to how vulnerable you can be on a bike.
One day, I was riding down a stretch of bike path that eventually led to a sidewalk. Since there was no one around, I figured it was safer to ride on the sidewalk. It felt like the right choiceāless traffic, fewer risks. But as I was going along, a cop flagged me down and told me I needed to get off the sidewalk and use the bike lane on the street.
At that moment, I was hit with a wave of nerves. I wasnāt sure if I should argue or just comply, but I quickly realized I didnāt feel comfortable riding on the street. So, I did what I was told and hopped onto the bike lane, which felt like a whole different kind of danger.
The cars were passing so close, and the bike lane offered no protectionāno barriers, no space to breathe. It was just a thin line of paint separating me from speeding traffic. Every car that zoomed by felt like it was inches away from knocking me over. My heart was racing, and I couldnāt shake the thought that if one car swerved just a little, I would be done for.
At that moment, I knew exactly how fragile my safety was. A single lapse in attention from a driver, and the outcome couldāve been disastrous. There was nothing separating me from the roadāno guardrails, no space to maneuver, just that painted line on the ground. It felt like an accident waiting to happen, and the more I pedaled, the more I thought, I need to get out of here. The anxiety was so intense that after a few moments, I turned around and decided to head home. The sidewalk felt like the only safe place to be.
This experience is actually one of the main reasons why Iām such a big proponent of bikes being on sidewalks, not the street. Iāve seen firsthand just how terrifying it can be to ride on a bike lane with no protection from cars. The idea that weāre supposed to navigate busy streets with nothing between us and the cars is insane to me. People are unpredictable, cars are dangerous, and the last thing anyone on a bike needs is to feel like theyāre an afterthought on the road.
When Iām on a bike, Iād rather be on the sidewalk where I feel safer, where I donāt have to worry about getting side-swiped by a car going way too fast. I get that bike lanes are meant to give cyclists their own space, but in reality, the protection they offer is minimal. If thereās no barrier, youāre still at the mercy of every driver around you. For me, the risk isnāt worth it. That bike lane close call made me realize just how fragile biking on the street can be, and why we need to rethink where bikes belong. At least on the sidewalk, there’s some kind of buffer between you and the chaos of traffic.
The Laptop Charger Close Call: A Shocking Reminder of Lifeās Fragility
Itās crazy how sometimes the most unexpected moments can remind you just how close you are to something life-altering happening. This next story took place just a couple of days ago, in 2026, and while it may not seem like much on the surface, it was another one of those moments where I realized how easily things can go from ordinary to dangerous.
I had my laptop plugged in, and once I was done using it for the moment, I turned it off, thinking I was finished with it for the time being. But for some reason, as I went to unplug the charger from the outlet, I could feel something strange. As soon as I touched the plug, I felt vibrations, like there was still electricity running through it. I was caught off guard, and for a split second, my mind went into full panic mode. My first thought was, Well, looks like I might get shocked to death.
It may sound dramatic, but in that moment, I truly felt like I was about to meet my end in the most mundane way possibleāunplugging a charger. The thought of the electricity running through my body, the potential for a fatal shock, all of it hit me in an instant. I stood there for a moment, unsure if I was going to be electrocuted just by trying to unplug the damn thing. It was surreal.
Thankfully, nothing happened. I didnāt get shocked, and I was fine. But it was one of those moments where you realize how fragile life can be. Something so simple, like unplugging a laptop charger, could have ended in disaster. I got lucky this time, but it definitely left me with a sense of just how easily things could go wrong without warning.
Itās these little close calls, these unexpected encounters with danger, that remind me to never take anything for granted. One second, youāre going about your day, and the next, you could be facing something completely out of your control. And while Iām relieved that I made it out unscathed, itās a moment thatāll stick with me as another reminder that life is full of small, seemingly insignificant moments that hold so much more risk than we give them credit for.
Trapped in Elevators: The Dread of Being Stuck
This next series of close calls happened in the years after 2018, during my first job right after college. At first glance, being trapped in an elevator might not seem like a major life-or-death situation. After all, how dangerous can an elevator really be? But the more I think about it, the more I realize how easily something so mundane can become terrifying, and potentially deadly, if the circumstances align just right.
I had a few experiences at my job where I found myself trapped in elevators. Multiple elevators, in fact. The first few times, I thought it was just a glitchāan annoying inconvenience, but nothing to be too worried about. However, after a while, the dread of being stuck in that small, confined space for hours with no help started to set in. At times, I would press the emergency button, only to hear nothing but silence. I would shout for help, hoping someone would hear me, but the feeling of isolation and helplessness was overwhelming.
And that’s when it hit meāwhile I might not be in immediate danger in the traditional sense, the situation could easily turn bad if I wasnāt able to get out in time. Being trapped in an elevator with no idea when or if help would come could leave you in a life-threatening situation. The longer youāre stuck, the more you start to realize just how vulnerable you are. If no one knows where you are, no one can help you. And thatās when the real danger starts to set in.
You think about the potential for dehydration, panic, or even just the psychological toll of being confined to a tiny space for what could turn into hours or even days. It sounds extreme, but the thought of slowly deteriorating in that elevator, with no one knowing where you are, started to feel like a real possibility. The sense of dread that built up each time I got stuck was hard to shake. The thought that something could go horribly wrong in such a seemingly harmless moment was a chilling reminder of how life can change in the blink of an eye.
Luckily, I always made it out of the elevator in one piece. Help eventually arrived, and I was let out, shaken but unharmed. But those moments, those terrifying minutes or hours spent stuck in that tiny, confined space, were enough to remind me that things can go wrong when you least expect it. And while it might not have been an immediate death sentence, the sheer feeling of isolation and helplessness in those moments made me realize how close I came to a truly dangerous situation.
Itās easy to take things like elevators for grantedāsomething we rely on every day without a second thought. But after those experiences, I canāt help but see them as a reminder of how even the most mundane aspects of life can have an edge of danger, especially when you’re at the mercy of a mechanical failure and no one knows where you are. Itās a lesson in vulnerability and in the importance of never underestimating the risks that come with everyday life.
The Icy Driveway Close Call: A Slippery, Dangerous Moment
This next story is the one that inspired me to write this post today (this was written on 1/19/2026). It happened just hours ago, as Iām sitting here reflecting on it. It was a reminder that sometimes, lifeās most dangerous moments sneak up on you when you least expect them. This one took place on the elevated driveway outside, and the weather was icy as hellājust the kind of conditions that make every step feel like a gamble.
I was outside, getting ready to clean off the cars. The driveway was covered in a thick layer of ice, making it hard to get any grip at all. As I was cleaning the vehicles, I was stepping carefully, trying not to slip. But as I was moving toward the edge of the elevated driveway, my foot caught on something, and for a brief moment, I lost my balance. It felt like the world was tipping over, and I could feel myself going down, closer to the edge. I swear, for a split second, I thought I was going to fall off the ledge, and that would have been it. The distance from the ledge to the ground was enough to cause some serious damage, and in that moment, the reality of how easily things could go wrong hit me like a ton of bricks.
I caught myself just in time, barely avoiding disaster. But that wasnāt the only close call that day. Before I even started cleaning the cars, I had been shoveling the driveway, trying to clear a path. The ice was so slick that with each step I took, I almost slipped and fell flat on my back. One wrong move, and I couldāve been on the ground in a way that would have been painful, or worse. Thankfully, I didnāt fall either time, but the fear of what could have happened stuck with me.
Itās crazy how something as simple as cleaning your car or shoveling snow can turn into a life-or-death situation. The ice, the elevation, the lack of tractionāall of it combined to make every step feel like a gamble. One slip, one wrong move, and I could have been seriously injured or worse. Itās a stark reminder of just how easily things can go from ordinary to dangerous when the environment around you changes.
As I look back on it, I realize that, once again, I was reminded of how quickly life can shift from normal to precarious. These moments, the ones where you come close to danger but escape by a hair, are often the ones that make you appreciate every moment a little bit more. They show you how fragile life really is and how quickly everything can change. Itās these close calls that make me realize how lucky I am to keep dodging disaster.
The Plot Armor Paradox: Reflections on Luna (Austin) and My Own Close Calls
Thereās something incredibly powerful about hearing someone elseās storyāparticularly when you can find a sense of resonance, like theyāre describing your own experiences in ways you never quite realized before. Thatās exactly what happened when I came across a story from a YouTuber named Luna, also known as Austin. Heās a storytime YouTuber whoās made a name for himself by telling wild, often outrageous stories from his life while playing video games. But it wasnāt just the craziness of his stories that caught my attentionāit was the way he described his own life.
Austin often talks about his life in terms of “plot armor”āthe idea that heās somehow been shielded from disaster or death over the years. At first, I thought it was a funny metaphor. I mean, the idea of having plot armor like a character in a TV show or movie sounds a bit absurd. Who actually believes theyāre living a scripted life? But then, as I listened to his stories, I began to realize that maybe he was onto something.
Austin has faced an incredible number of situations where, if even the smallest detail had gone differently, things could have turned out very badly for him. And the more I thought about it, the more I realized that his life was a series of close calls and narrow escapes. In some of his stories, it seems like heās survived situations that couldāve easily ended in tragedy, or at the very least, some serious life-altering consequences. From dangerous encounters to absurd accidents, Austin’s life feels like a series of “what ifs” that just happened to go the right way. And hearing him talk about those moments made me reflect on my own lifeāand the many moments where Iāve had my own share of close calls.
Austinās stories about surviving crazy situations, whether itās narrowly avoiding physical harm or escaping dangerous circumstances, really struck a chord with me. They made me realize that weāre often walking a very fine line between life and death. Sometimes itās easy to take survival for granted, especially when youāve made it through a lot of chaotic events. But in truth, so many of us are here because of sheer luck. A momentary decision, a change in direction, or an unexpected intervention could have altered our fate forever. Austin has his fair share of āplot armorā moments, just as I do, just as we all do. His survival stories are a testament to how fragile life can be and how luck, fate, or whatever you want to call it, can play a huge role in whether we live to see another day.
When I started thinking about it, I realized that there have been so many moments in my own life where, if things had gone even slightly differently, I might not be here telling my story. And I donāt say that lightly. When you go through the kinds of experiences Iāve had, where things feel close to breaking, close to turning in the worst possible direction, you canāt help but feel like you’ve got a kind of invisible shield around youāa shield that somehow stops disaster from striking. And just like Austin describes with his āplot armor,ā I can look back on those times and realize that Iāve been incredibly lucky, even though at the time, I didnāt necessarily see it that way.
Iāve had my fair share of close callsāwhether it’s narrowly avoiding physical harm, surviving dangerous situations, or being in the right place at the right time to avoid catastrophe. Iāve been in situations where one small misstep could have changed everything. And thatās a scary thought. The scariest part is that we canāt predict when our luck will run out. It could be the next time we get in a car, or the next time we decide to go for a walk. Itās easy to forget how fragile everything is when youāve survived multiple close calls. But every time we dodge a bullet, weāre reminded that weāre still here because of sheer chance.
Austin’s approach to life, describing it in terms of plot armor, made me reflect on my own experiences in a way I hadnāt done before. It forced me to think about how many of these close calls could have gone the other way. For every time I narrowly avoided harm, for every situation I walked away from unscathed, I began to realize how lucky I am to still be here. And that realization hit me hardābecause, like Austin, I now understand that luck isnāt a permanent fixture. Eventually, all of us will face a moment where our āplot armorā can no longer protect us. The luck will run out, and the time will come when we face the consequences of living life on the edge.
Itās humbling, really. To think about the number of times Iāve been in situations where things could have easily gone south, but didnāt. Sometimes, itās a matter of timing, other times itās sheer randomness. But when you add it all up, it starts to feel like something much biggerāa cosmic alignment, or, as Austin puts it, plot armor.
Thereās something deeply reflective about looking at your life and realizing how many “what ifs” existāwhat if Iād slipped, what if I hadnāt made that decision, what if things had gone just a little bit differently? Itās easy to get complacent and forget that these moments donāt happen forever. Eventually, that streak of good luck will run out, and weāll all be left facing the inevitable. But the important thing is to appreciate the moments we have nowāthe moments weāve survived and the people who matter to us. Because no matter how much plot armor we think we have, we all have to face the fact that we canāt live in a bubble forever.
Reflecting on Austinās life and my own has taught me to stop taking life for granted. We often think weāre invincible, that nothing bad will happen to us because weāve made it this far. But the truth is, life is a string of near-misses and close calls. And those moments, when weāre reminded of how easily things can go wrong, should serve as a wake-up call. Appreciate life. Appreciate your loved ones. Appreciate every moment you have, because one day, your luck might just run out.
Conclusion: The Purpose of These Close Calls
As I sit back and reflect on all of these close callsāthe ones where I narrowly avoided death, the times I came so close to losing it allāI realize thereās a larger takeaway from it all. The point of this story, of recounting these moments, isnāt just to entertain or share my experiences. Itās to remind you, and myself, of something essential: life is fragile, unpredictable, and often taken for granted.
The lesson Iāve learned through all these close encounters is simple: appreciate life. Appreciate your life. Appreciate the lives of those you care about. Because, the harsh truth is, you never know when it could be your last day. You donāt know when it could all come to an end. Every time we survive another close call, itās a reminder that weāre incredibly lucky to still be here. But that luck, that “plot armor” we feel like we have, wonāt last forever. Eventually, your luck will run out. Your time will come. The moments we take for granted can be the ones that slip away without us even realizing it.
And itās not just our own lives. We canāt forget that we never know when the people we care about might be facing their last moments. It could happen at any time, under any circumstances. Weāre all just one moment away from losing someone we love. And in 2026, with the world feeling more volatile and uncertain than ever, that reality feels all the more pressing. The tensions, the chaos, the unpredictabilityāitās all a reminder that life isnāt something we can control, and that we need to hold on to the things and people that matter most.
In times like these, itās more important than ever to reflect on who is truly important in our lives, and to cherish them. To value every interaction, every second we get with the people who mean something to us. Appreciate them, because tomorrow isnāt guaranteed. Today might be the last day you get to say something to someone you care about, or be with them. So donāt let those moments slip away. Donāt wait until itās too late to express your love, to show your gratitude, or to make things right.
Thatās the real takeaway here. Life is fragile, unpredictable, and incredibly precious. The closer we come to losing it, the more we understand that itās the people we love, the moments we share, and the connections we make that truly matter. So let this be a reminder to cherish what you have while you have it, because you just never know when it could all be gone.
