The Mystery of Mira Medina: A Secret in the Night

"We're all just stardust trying to remember itself." ✨

I’m chasing the idea of immortality as I sit under the sterile fluorescence of the lab—not for glory; the universe told me a secret once, in the dark of night. They call me a Human Longevity Researcher, I’m just a scribe taking the mysterious language of telomeres and senescent cells, and turning it into something remotely resembling poetry.

My job? A counter-attack on the things time takes. My life? A really slow waltz with something unknowable.

I wasn’t always like this. I use to be a girl who counted heartbeats instead of sheep, someone who pressed her ear to the ground and listened to the slow-moving pulse of time. Then came the accident, the accident I never mention, which left me stitched back together with scars and question marks. The doctors told me I was lucky. I knew I was cursed with clarity.

I roam the line between science and mysticism. By daylight, I’m dissecting the genomes of centenarians; by dark, I’m deciphering the symbols of my dreams. Some say I’m too intense. They’re probably right, I smolder while others flicker.

What do I believe?

• Death is not the enemy. Oblivion is.
• The body is a temporary vehicle, but the mind is a jungle of space!
• Every wrinkle is a memento of experience. Every grey hair is a solar flare of wisdom.
• You are not aging. You are ascending.

I don’t do chit-chat. I dissect chit-chat. I don’t fear the dark. I engage the dark. If you got this far, you are likely hearing whispers too.

Keep curious. Keep strange. The best secrets are in plain sight. 🔍

(PS: I may have had too much espresso while writing this. Excuse the typos. It’s not like perfection exists anyway!)