Born in Tirana, raised in the shadow of Dajti mountain and the ghosts of concrete bunkers. Albania shapes you different — it teaches you that comfort is a lie and that the world doesn't owe you anything.
At 18, crossed the Atlantic. Not running from something — running toward something. Eastern Michigan University. Physics. Masters. The kind of education that teaches you the universe is indifferent, and that's beautiful.
Building the machine that rewrites logistics. The Tesla Semi isn't a truck — it's a statement that the internal combustion engine's reign is over dead.
Manufacturing engineering is where physics meets reality. Where equations become metal. Where tolerances are measured in microns and mistakes are measured in millions. Every day is a problem that hasn't been solved before because no one has built this before.
Active equity trader. Markets are physics — momentum, entropy, mean reversion. The math translates.
Reading charts like reading the Schrödinger equation — probability distributions, not certainties.
"The body tried to quit.
I fired it and got a replacement."
Living donor kidney transplant. Someone gave a piece of themselves so that the work could continue. There is no deeper debt. There is no greater fuel. Every morning since is borrowed time weaponized into purpose.
Textbook. Not pop science, not "Quantum Physics for Dummies." The real thing. Hilbert spaces. Operators. The formalism that makes reality computable. Because a masters in physics was just the beginning.
The man who understood suffering as technology. Who mapped the human psyche before Freud. Who knew that the darkest corridors of the mind contain the most light. From physics of the universe to the physics of the soul.
"A backpack full of books, a coffee shop, and silence. That's the whole religion."
Carries a backpack loaded with books everywhere. Not a Kindle — physical books. The weight is the point. Sits in coffee shops in deliberate solitude. Hyperion in Ann Arbor is the temple. Visits often, though home is now 2,500 miles west in Fremont.
Nyx Assassin main. The hero that sees what others can't. Carapace — take the hit, return it doubled. Vendetta — invisible until the kill. There are no coincidences in hero selection.
The art of eight limbs. Haven't trained recently — the body has been through enough. But the mind never left the ring. Planning a pilgrimage to Thailand. Train at the source. Sweat in the humidity. Bleed on the pads. Come back sharper.
Thailand training camp — imminent
Muay Thai pilgrimage. Train where the art was born. Bangkok, Chiang Mai — doesn't matter. What matters is the ring, the pads, and the 40°C heat that purifies.
Summer return. Not nostalgia — recalibration. The Adriatic coast, the mountains, the family, the language that shaped the first 18 years. You can't understand the vector without revisiting the origin.
The city that formed the American chapter. Still drawn back. Hyperion coffee. The diag in autumn. Some places get encoded into your operating system. Ann Arbor is ROM.