It doesn’t need you smiling. It needs you scrolling. It doesn’t want peace. It wants predictability. Happiness doesn’t make you stay. Confusion does. Doubt does. Comparison does. The soft ache of never enough that’s the drug. The system studied you. Then it cloned your cravings. Fed you mirrors laced with poison. Gave you dopamine in a cage. Turned your attention into a farmable resource and your sadness into a subscription model.
I made a conscious decision to unplug from social media this past weekend - checking in only briefly late Saturday evening to discover that there had been yet another assassination attempt on the president at the White House Correspondents’ Dinner.
My decision was fuelled primarily by the pattern recognition that followed the coverage of David Wilcock’s suicide on April 20th.
Essentially, that news immediately bifurcated everyone’s reactions into two main camps.
1. Those who took the news at face value and were shocked and deeply saddened.
. . . and . . .
2. Those who went full conspiracy theory on the news to speculate some of the most bizarro-world scenarios - with precisely zero evidence - that I’ve ever read.
Let the games begin !
Or, in this case, it would be more apt to say, “Let the mud-slinging begin !”
The sheer volume of verbal “heavy artillery” that was lobbed back and forth between those two camps was absolutely astonishing . . . and ultimately predictable.
I observed EXACTLY the same playbook at work in the aftermath of the most recent assassination attempt - only this time WRIT LARGE.
My first thought was, “Oh, good GRIEF. This again ?”
Sunday morning’s X feed was nothing BUT either mud-slinging or sycophantic sloganeering with AI memes.
It’s just all so tiresome.
So I bailed . . . and breathed.
And much to my surprise, I was actually able to disappear into the pages of a really good book !
Well put. I concur.
I made a conscious decision to unplug from social media this past weekend - checking in only briefly late Saturday evening to discover that there had been yet another assassination attempt on the president at the White House Correspondents’ Dinner.
My decision was fuelled primarily by the pattern recognition that followed the coverage of David Wilcock’s suicide on April 20th.
Essentially, that news immediately bifurcated everyone’s reactions into two main camps.
1. Those who took the news at face value and were shocked and deeply saddened.
. . . and . . .
2. Those who went full conspiracy theory on the news to speculate some of the most bizarro-world scenarios - with precisely zero evidence - that I’ve ever read.
Let the games begin !
Or, in this case, it would be more apt to say, “Let the mud-slinging begin !”
The sheer volume of verbal “heavy artillery” that was lobbed back and forth between those two camps was absolutely astonishing . . . and ultimately predictable.
I observed EXACTLY the same playbook at work in the aftermath of the most recent assassination attempt - only this time WRIT LARGE.
My first thought was, “Oh, good GRIEF. This again ?”
Sunday morning’s X feed was nothing BUT either mud-slinging or sycophantic sloganeering with AI memes.
It’s just all so tiresome.
So I bailed . . . and breathed.
And much to my surprise, I was actually able to disappear into the pages of a really good book !
We know by what it produces in us.
If it makes you smaller, frantic, dependent, afraid, or desperate for the next hit, it is probably feeding on you.
If it brings clarity, stillness, agency, and remembrance, it is probably returning you to yourself.
That’s the difference.