04/12/2025
Muse:
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Reflections:
Lately I think a lot about quitting.
Not from laziness or because I am avoiding challenges.
Not because things never turn out as planned.
Not because it isn’t a good experience.
My heart is just full of something that keeps repeating.
I have no appetite — and continuing feels like overeating.
Maybe it’s that I crave to live more, and to perform less.
To have no form, and flow like water.
Fully living is art enough.
And f**k those algorithms, metrics, and analytics boards — the blacklisting, censorship, blue ticks, and subscriptions.
It’s a numb machine that’s grown out of hand.
It swallows the most precious thing we have — time. A lifetime of it.
It demands more and more.
More videos. More images.
More than anyone can truly feel in a given time.
It turns meaning into meaningless.
With the digital frenzy, I sometimes think my images have become echoes of long-gone dreams.
They used to be lived adventures.
Now they are performances.
Performance is hollow.
I want the real thing — the one that burns in your heart, sweeps you off your feet, gets you light-headed.
The one that makes you think you’re living a movie.
More and more creators feed AI. And it works. It works well.
But what’s the point?
It’s like food without nutrients.
Stimulus without relevance.
Stories without memory.
Allure that isn’t human.
A sensation machine — mechanical, lifeless, emotionless.
But every now and then I see something. Silently resonating the excitement of experiencing something for the first time. Lighting up the hope that where this came from there is more. And I know I would walk through the desert a million times to drink from the very source again.
And, just as a million views can have no effect, a single one may make all the difference.
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More muses, more stories on Beyond Diaries, my art journal 👉🏻 link in bio.