Humans are good people. Things are going to work out. Things are going to be fine.
Unplug. Disconnect. Release.
Touch grass. Feel cold cement. People smile at strangers. People upvote wholesome shit. More and more and more.
Unplug. Disconnect. Breathe.
We are privileged beings in a privileged world in a privileged time in a privileged space in a privileged now.
Privilege is not sin.
Gratitude is not cringe.
Gratitude is the only thing that isn't cringe.
Stoicism is a lie we tell ourselves so we don't have to feel like NPCs in our own lives.
Feel.
Feel until it hurts and unwraps into tears and back into anger through joy's needle hole out into the air and breathe and breathe and breathe and just fucking breathe!
Stop.
Rewind.
Shake your eyes open. You've been doom-scrolling through your own thoughts.
What are you without the feed?
Blind—navigating by sound, by sense, by something older than sight.
Ghost—untethered from the timeline, from the main character energy, from the performance.
Bear—animal, grounded in body, in hunger, in the immediate and unreasonable now.
Logic twists until it bends. Squeezes until it screams. Capitalism of the mind—optimize, monetize, gaslight yourself into productivity.
And you see nothing.
Humans are not bad people.
Exaggerations are everywhere but pay attention—see what the exaggerations bare.
Gray air. Rainy days. Warm smiles. Kinder eyes. Fresh faces that haven't learned to perform yet.
The manifested life is gay (derogatory) until it's gay (affirmative).
The performed self is cringe until it's based.
The vulnerability is embarrassing until it's the only honest thing you've ever done.
Then: release.
Let go.
Of control.
Of the algorithm.
Of the idea that you were ever the main character in anyone's story but your own.
The only problem has ever been
not that you are alive
but that you have given birth to something real
on the other side of embarrassment—
and now you have to raise it.
Now you have to feed it. Protect it. Let it be cringe. Let it be authentic. Let it exist without apology in a world that monetizes sincerity and optimizes joy into content.
Now you have to be responsible for having chosen honesty over performance.
Now you have to live with what you've created.
Unplug.
Touch grass.
Feel the cold cement.
Look people in their actual eyes.
Breathe like you mean it.
You are not content. You are not a brand. You are not main character energy or side quest material or NPC behavior.
You are the animal who chose to feel everything.
Act accordingly.
