Ashley Amber Sava's Linkedin Analytics

There’s a moment in every LinkedIn scroll where you feel it—a slow, gnawing nausea. It creeps in with the motivational TED Talk masquerading as a post. You know the one: a guy in an ill-fitting blazer whisper-screaming about “unlocking potential." Keep scrolling. Enter the grind-bro. Eyes bloodshot. Skin like a haunted drumhead. He’s been awake since 2:47 a.m. for...reasons. His post reads like a deranged love letter to burnout culture, all caps yelling about “discipline." And then, the fluff prophet/AI oracle. Their face is slack, mouth twitching as they whisper, “AI is going to disrupt everything,” like a doomsday preacher on a street corner with a cardboard sign. “We’re living through the next industrial revolution,” they declare, conveniently ignoring the fact that their entire strategy is pasting ChatGPT outputs into Canva templates. The clap emojis pile up. The buzzwords snowball. And you sit there, wondering why we're applauding this nervous breakdown. Welcome to my profile. I don’t do that here. Here, you’ll find stories that make you laugh, flinch, maybe even even stop mid-scroll to reread. I write to jolt you awake—not to whisper sweet nothings about KPIs. My posts are jagged, human and unapologetically real. They’ll linger like a scar you can’t stop tracing. Because that’s what good writing does—it takes your attention hostage. I’ve been called irreverent, abrasive, “not for everyone.” I take that as a compliment. My words are a protest against the beige corporate sludge clogging up this platform. I write for the people who hate white noise, and who crave a voice that’s sharp, raw and distinctly human. My content is for those who want something real, even if it stings. If that’s you, stick around. If it’s not, go back to clapping for the guy trying to sprint through his midlife crisis. Here’s what to expect: Stories about the absurdity of modern work culture. Rants about the dumbest trends. Tactical advice wrapped in cynicism. And maybe, just maybe, a small dose of hope—wrapped in barbed wire, because I’m not a monster. Because while this platform loves its safe, saccharine posts about “growth” and “hustle,” I’d rather talk about the messiness of actually trying to get there. The fumbles, the failures, the outright catastrophes. It’s not pretty, but it’s honest. And honesty’s in short supply these days. If you’re tired of scrolling through LinkedIn posts that feel like a bad infomercial for someone’s personal brand, stick around. Let’s be human, even when the algorithm begs us not to be. And yes, I still use em dashes. Fight me.