Date: 2025-05-27

Because you demand garbage

Let's not pretend I am writing this because I want it. I'm not here
to educate, to sell, or to go viral. I am writing this because you
exist. You, the respectable, predictable, polished, ad-swallowing
citizen. The one who smiles at the screen while being devoured by it.
If there is not you, there will be no need for a single damn word of
this.

You, reader, yes you, the good consumer, the upstanding digital
citizen you made this necessary. You clicked. You scrolled. You shared
empty motivational quotes that mean nothing, without a second thought.
As if a few words plastered on a sunset photo could fix the hollow
inside. You turned the internet into a performance stage and called it
life.

You talk. God, you talk. Blog posts, IRC, forum threads, endless
streams of gibberish about minimalism, simplicity, purity, open-source
ideals, humanity. You preach like monk, type like prophet.

But you unplug the keyboard and what's left?

An iPhone glued to your hand. A console booted up with the latest
dopamine fix. A job in some corporate slaughterhouse you swear you are
escaping soon. You write manifestos from your childhood bedroom, fed
by your mom's hand. All saved in the cloud. Fat, ugly, sick, addicted,
and dumb but fluent in the language of pretending to give a shit.

So don't mistake this writing for a manifesto. It's not an invitation.
It's a response. There is no anger here, I am cold, cold toward
everything you represent. The heat you feel belongs to someone else.
You demand noise. You demand distraction. You demand convenience
wrapped in pretty packages with zero depth. And I write because you
won't stop consuming.

If you see clarity in it, take it while you can. I don't write this
because I want to. I write this because, unfortunately, you are still
reading.

Truth doesn't beg or whisper. Truth isn't polite or patient. It
smashes your illusions, burns your lies. It's a savage drags your
hidden fears into the light.