19 novembre 2025
The desire to be seen and the shame felt off that feeling. To post or not to post. In a weird parallel thanks to Bataille’s work , I yearn to be Adam in Eden, being one with nature or, in my case, fuse with the crowd while yapping about my very « unique » perception at the top of my lungs. In the wake of a long period of intense thinking, I found that staying clean of social media did not free me of social expectations nor did it lead me to find true peace within. Surprise surprise, distancing myself from society only alienated me more, and not knowing shit about nothing is only fun for a while. I don’t mean it in a way that I miss being a TikTok fiend, but I cannot take another second of feeling like an annoying pick-me because all I am physically capable of talking about is politics and philosophy. My attention span might be more than 5 seconds and I might have read way more books than the screen gooner I used to be, I just found more shit to be absolutely pissed off about. But instead of torturing myself and debating the egotistical nature of publishing my thoughts about stuff, I’ll just write and yap. Because what the hell, I would’ve never been an insufferable pretentious woman on a terrace with a glass of wine on my right and a cigarette on my left drunkenly ranting about the state of the world if Marx didn’t wake up one day and decide he was going to yap. I don’t mean in any way to compare myself to the greats, but we have the need to leave a trace, and that’s exactly what we should do. I’m currently deep into a Lacan rabbit hole and talking to an invisible crowd through the internet is my attempt at fusion with the great other. However, my issue is the medium, the canvas, the structure of the platform itself, and our relationship to documenting life.
What led me in part to scurry away from social media is the same thing that makes me question whether or not I should come back. As I said, I feel the need for expression, but do I really want to share my opinions on the brewing worldwide surveillance system? Should we go back to paper, or should we learn ways to be anonymous online?
What deeply fascinates me is the fact that almost nobody gives the slightest fuck. Tbh, I get it, we’ve all been raised in the age of the digital footprint, but dang, don’t y’all think this is a little bit alarming? Like, I might be paranoid, but I started sending physical letters for a reason, shit is getting out of hand. I don’t even say crazy stuff, but I just started thinking that the fascist technocrats wannabe-medieval lords will publicly stone any big-mouthed peasant that had the audacity to say anything they don’t approve of from 2020 to next year. I have reasons to think that this type of event will be normalised by circa 2030, and lord, I don’t look forward to doing my naked walk of shame like Cersei Lannister and getting randomly flashed by the angry crowd.
So… I was thinking: what should we do, what should we say, when should we shut tf up? And in a weird twisted way, I paused, got up, and sat right back down, grabbed my chin and thought: well damn, we’re in a cul-de-sac. Globalisation of media, whether it’s important news or cat videos, requires capitalism, unless someone has an idea for un harmful internet.
The internet is most likely how we all knew of the horror of the ongoing massacres and injustices (besides our own lived experiences), and it swayed our whole outlook on life. But Instagram, YouTube, Google, and all those wonderful bundles of code that I’m so thankful for, for the information and resources I found on subjects that keep me up at night, need immense amounts of time, money, energy that only an ultra-rich group of people can make work. And in a twisted way, I feel like the worldwide proletarian revolution I’m on my knees praying for every night is not happening unless the servers are on. Or some of y’all crazy people push the off button in every facility and all hell breaks loose, watching the world turn into flames the day the internet dies. Maybe that’ll be the start of it, the destruction of the big eye watching us. That’s why my Roman Empire is the French revolution.
What will I do in my the meantime no idea but I doubt that any FBI CIA agent is watching me right now. They got bigger fish to fry, or cats to flagellate (idk I speak French ) and I’m but a girl, with a complex regret over buying an iPhone and a high risk of being a paranoid psychotic schizophrenic. For that one I can only blame I for pushing myself into a corner where I crave being seen, but terrified of being watched but atp I’m just rambling.
Lord Scarlett