I have started something called ' intentional slow reading ' this year, as I have been no exception to rising screen addiction, and was also consciously aware of my AI usage. Spending time with physical books, especially books that have been written in the pre-ChatGPT age felt like a natural detox and raised my respect for those authors drastically. They take me to a different space and time, and even if it is not fiction, each thought-provoking line I go through makes me reflect on the originality of the author to have been able to come up with it. And I wonder if we will be left with the capacity for original thought at all anymore with the AI tools. That rant is reserved for another post. So, to sum up, I ended up reading a variety of books, picking one or two or even three at a time, but without any pressure to 'complete', consciously avoiding dopamine or adrenaline triggers. Pace does not matter. The idea is to read slowly, soaking in the words, trying to grasp the...
I'm done. So done. With the endless barrage of 'wellness' bullshit, the unsolicited gym advice, the organic eye rolls, and the constant, suffocating judgment about my body and my life. With the 'priorities' lecture, the 'just eat clean' mantra, the 'chakra alignment' bullshit, and the goddamn Insta-perfect lifestyles and bodies shoved down my throat every goddamn second. Look, I get it! You found the gym. You discovered kale. You've reached your 'North Star' of fitness or 'enlightened' living. Great for you! Seriously, I'm happy you found something that works!! But here's the thing: Your journey is not my journey. Your body is not my body. Your life is not my life. Your journey is not my journey. Your body is not my body. Your life is not my life. Well you think it's 'just a matter of priorities'? Frankly, I don't give a flying f*** about your 'priorities.' I'm busy. We're all busy. We...