Im reflecting on Thursday’s share - complaining about people who complain about the internet… on the internet ;)
not in sincerity - but just acknowledging if you are a critical thinker, an observer, someone who obtains the rare gift of an individuated, nuanced perspective and takes the time to write - but all you do with your brilliance is COMPLAIN about what exists whilst NOT creating anything new…
that im bored of you!
but writing about internet garbage did get me thinking about the toxicity of digital pollution - piling and compounding, distorting truths and making us dumber, weaker every single day.
Im thinking about my participation in that “information” ecosystem
I share on IG almost daily
lately i share my AI assisted & generated performance art (which is a topic to explore another day… but the AI introduces another layer of accountability & responsibility here).
I share on substack haphazardly - I write badly because im lazy, impulsive, and care more to be vulnerable and satisfy my whims than to make perfect sense
In the past ive used AI to help me write, which I’m not doing anymore aside from synonym-searching. gotta pick and choose how & where to use it.
Plus I dont want to write to explain anymore or to teach - which is why I had used AI in the past. it helped reflect and contain my shapeless abstractions in a supportive way
but right now im happy to be shapeless in my writing
I just want to write because for some reason it helps me everywhere in life
I do have a fascination for the nonlinear
the wildly abstract and interpretive
and words are explicit
words are banal
language is art
vocal articulation is art
but words are restrictive, limiting, hyper-focused on definitions
but back to the point - digital sludge
I share writing that sometimes makes no sense and has no point. im aware of this
some of what I share is “good”. some of what I share is “bad”
nonetheless, I contribute to the digital landfill regularly.
how do I justify adding more?
I dont have 10+ years of experience in “my field” - (actually my field is just life, so yes I do)
Im kind of insane
Im self indulgent
Im not incredibly “informed” or the smartest or the best at anything
I feel that my experience and perspective is important but I cannot know for certain
and yet
I just do it anyway
and maybe one day i’ll regret it.
or maybe one day ill be celebrating my vulnerability further with my titties out =)
right now im still in it, so im just in it
but heres where ive landed so far:
for every negative potential, there exists a positive
yes it is true that social media is hazardous and that the speed and clutter of it all rewards cheap behaviors and anti-intellectualism
and yes it is also true that these platforms connect real humans on a global scale.
it is true that these metal mirrors to our souls can show us parts of ourselves we may not have otherwise seen
it is true that we are able to experience and share ourselves in ways that heighten our collective consciousness, our compassion, our ability to connect and build a better world together
THAT is the reality I declare myself apart of and feel I that I contribute to.
I choose to share works that are birthed from my connection to God, my connection to love, and my connection to truth- which are all the same- in hopes to strengthen human connection and spread loving awareness
whether my work is “good” or “bad” I find that intention to be good enough
anddddd
It gives me great pleasure to share myself
It gives me great pleasure to create and be seen not just in my body but in my mind
It gives me great pleasure to do it every day. or not on the days I dont want to
and it gives me great pleasure to try
to build something of my own
to surrender to the forces that be
and to trust my desires
trust the process and the natural order of it all
sometimes I share garbage
sometimes I share gold
and I am always me
that is the reason
and the truth
and maybe you should too. if you want too
Vanity considers the paradox of self-regard: the desire to witness ourselves can both affirm and destabilize the self. The work questions whether the image is a means of knowing ourselves, or a way of escaping what cannot be made permanent.

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