1. Loud chewing
Nothing triggers my inner survival instincts faster. I can be perfectly calm, sipping coffee, and the moment someone starts chewing like they’re trying to speedrun a meal, my brain immediately considers evacuation, hibernation, or self-exile to the woods.

2. People who block doorways
It’s like a real-world pathfinding bug. You’re trying to move from Point A to Point B, and suddenly someone decides the doorway is the perfect spot to stop, ponder life, and become a human traffic cone. Please step aside before I have to jump sideways like I’m dodging a Timberwolf.

3. Being interrupted mid-thought
My thoughts are fragile. If they get interrupted, they’re gone — not respawning, not fast-travelling back, just gone forever. Let me finish the sentence before the brain tab closes itself with an error message.

Food in my home works a lot like food in a survival game: it doesn’t need to be fancy, it just needs to keep everyone alive long enough to face whatever chaos tomorrow brings.

• The Hearty One – the kind of meal that hits like a max-calorie stew in The Long Dark. Warm, filling, and ideal for days when the weather—or life—gets dramatic.
• The Quick One – real-world equivalent of realising you forgot to bring food in Subnautica and you’re too far from the lifepod to care. Fast, simple, reliable.
• The “How Did This Turn Out So Good?” One – the wildcard. No expectations, no guarantees, but somehow it ends up being the favourite thing of the week.

Nothing Michelin-starred. Nothing that reveals anything personal. Just the everyday fuel that keeps the Survivor Incognito camp going—one plate at a time.

If I could meet any historical figure, I’d choose someone whose work still shapes the world long after they’re gone—one of those thinkers or explorers who pushed boundaries before anyone realised the map even had edges.

Not to ask big philosophical questions or rewrite history. Just to see what made them keep going when the world around them wasn’t built to support what they were trying to do. That mindset fascinates me—the people who kept pushing forward because stopping wasn’t an option.

It wouldn’t matter which era they came from. I’d just want to hear how they handled uncertainty, how they navigated limits, and how they kept their sense of direction when everything was stacked against them.

That kind of perspective is worth more than any autograph.

Most of the time, yes. Instinct usually shows up before the overthinking does, and it tends to be the part of me that actually knows what it’s talking about. Whether it’s a real-life decision or a split-second call in a survival game, that first gut feeling is usually the one that keeps things steady.

I’m not perfect at listening to it. Sometimes I second-guess myself or try to logic my way around something that already felt wrong. Every time I do that, it turns into a reminder that my instincts were trying to save me a trip down the more painful route.

So I try to follow that internal alarm more often than not. It doesn’t make life easier, but it makes things clearer—and clarity is something you don’t waste when you’re trying to survive anything, digital or otherwise.