"Then, their 2025 thus sliced and sectioned and braided into posts, they drew out a fresh length of soul and began to do the same thing to 2026" sent me (this whole piece sent me, but woof)
This essay is comforting to read, even though it's also deeply unsettling to read at points. You describe a sensation I've been feeling for a while, for at least a couple years. It feels like I have an inner principle calling out, one that I've been unwittingly violating, on a daily basis. Just by participating in most things people participate in--social media, absolutely, but also possibly the internet in its entire current form. The culture that exists online is viscerally offensive to something inside me. It feels like everything, even the good things, contain a dose of poison in them. And I resent the feeling that I have to ignore that inner sense of rightness in order to carry on normally in this world... Which is not true, of course. I can make other choices, and not all of them involve living on a farm. And the internet brings me many good things too--this essay, for one. But I keep saying, "soon, soon..." to that inner voice, or else making incremental gestures toward it (not posting anything personal on social media, for one.) All I know is that I am happier when my physical body lives in the physical world, and less happy when it doesn't... Anyway, thank you. I felt this piece deeply and I appreciate it.
"I am happier when my physical body lives in the physical world..." -- that's it. And I say that as a covid cautious person who is always wearing a mask (but still living my life). It makes in-person things more challenging when you're an outlier like that but I force myself because I know I need it.
To watch someone pause and think and then opt to say the truth feels rare. The surprise of a slow and singular answer is one of my favorite things about real life conversation.
Powerful piece. As clinicians, we see the downstream physiology of exactly what you’re describing: when people are rendered into symbols, it becomes easier for the nervous system (and for institutions) to tolerate cruelty at scale, and harder for individuals to metabolize what they’re witnessing. That “can’t make it feel real” sensation reads like a protective dissociation response: the brain dampens salience when the stimulus is too vast, too frequent, or too morally incompatible to integrate. Over time, that mismatch can show up as moral injury, sleep fragmentation, irritability, hypertension, and a kind of empathy fatigue that isn’t apathy so much as overload. I also appreciated the critique of “biography poisoning”. There’s a subtle clinical parallel: when we compress lived experience into narratives optimized for consumption, we lose resolution and then we start treating both others and ourselves as abstractions. Thank you for insisting on the human scale of things!
What a stunning, haunting essay. I’ll be sitting with your words for a long time. Thank you for sharing this with us. I came here from Caro Claire Burke sharing a quote from the piece. I’m so glad to have been introduced to your work.
It feels ridiculous to point out just one thing but here I go: I love that I'm old enough now to watch clichés sound rigorous to young ears. "This task is as hard as the day is long" sends people in their 20's and seeing it happen is marvelous. Anyway, this essay made me feel seen and ambushed and then seen again. lol
Protect yourself and your heart. When I got off the majority of social media, it was because it did not feel right anymore. I did not like the uncanny me. Because it is ways that, isn’t it? A curated life is not a life.
Your point about the abstraction of human life and the virality of death reminded me of the Facebook era when people would share videos of people's death quite consistently. I had gotten into an arguement with a friend about why I didn't want to watch those videos (so y'know stop sending them to me, stop sharing them, or if you must at least put a warning at the top so I could skip it) because I did not feel comfortable with watching people die. My friend's whole stance was that becasue we did not know these people that there was nothing wrong with witnessing their deaths via online. And it feels like that statement is a justification so many people use to consume other people's lives. I'm complicit too as I do enjoy watching YoutTube vlogs though I had the realization that I was not living for the sake of watching someone else live. Anyways, it feels like we create justifications to insulate us from these very real people who exist within the videos and images for sake of consumption; and then we turn them into the abstractions we need them to be to make sense of a life without actually living it. Death happens and everyone jumps on Twitter or Facebook or TikTok or where ever to make up narratives about the deceased and the reason of their death as if they were some omnioptent narrator watching it all unfold; when in reality they have absolutely no idea what happened, what lead up to it, why the person did what they did. They project their ideas onto people because their hair is black or because their skin is earthly brown or because their toroso isn't shaped in a way that is aestheically pleasing to them. I'm not saying this to judge anyone because I too am guilty of doing these things, and then using my ego to justify those projections. It's just sometimes I wonder how we get back to acknowledging that all humans are human? Or sometimes wondering if humans were always like this? Feeding differences into our ego to create narratives about others and why they deserve dehumanization in the first place.
Sorry for the long rant. But I just thought that this piece you wrote was very thought-provoking and then I decided to vomit all those thoughts here.
I really enjoyed the moment with your French coach.
I've been thinking lately (there goes that problem again!) the way out of these issues like depersonalization is more love. I suppose in the Christian sense. Love for your neighbor, love for your enemy, etc. It's a tough feeling to foster.
"Then, their 2025 thus sliced and sectioned and braided into posts, they drew out a fresh length of soul and began to do the same thing to 2026" sent me (this whole piece sent me, but woof)
Woke up, read this first thing, and my day cracked open. I'm such a fan of your brilliant mind.
This essay is comforting to read, even though it's also deeply unsettling to read at points. You describe a sensation I've been feeling for a while, for at least a couple years. It feels like I have an inner principle calling out, one that I've been unwittingly violating, on a daily basis. Just by participating in most things people participate in--social media, absolutely, but also possibly the internet in its entire current form. The culture that exists online is viscerally offensive to something inside me. It feels like everything, even the good things, contain a dose of poison in them. And I resent the feeling that I have to ignore that inner sense of rightness in order to carry on normally in this world... Which is not true, of course. I can make other choices, and not all of them involve living on a farm. And the internet brings me many good things too--this essay, for one. But I keep saying, "soon, soon..." to that inner voice, or else making incremental gestures toward it (not posting anything personal on social media, for one.) All I know is that I am happier when my physical body lives in the physical world, and less happy when it doesn't... Anyway, thank you. I felt this piece deeply and I appreciate it.
"I am happier when my physical body lives in the physical world..." -- that's it. And I say that as a covid cautious person who is always wearing a mask (but still living my life). It makes in-person things more challenging when you're an outlier like that but I force myself because I know I need it.
To watch someone pause and think and then opt to say the truth feels rare. The surprise of a slow and singular answer is one of my favorite things about real life conversation.
Powerful piece. As clinicians, we see the downstream physiology of exactly what you’re describing: when people are rendered into symbols, it becomes easier for the nervous system (and for institutions) to tolerate cruelty at scale, and harder for individuals to metabolize what they’re witnessing. That “can’t make it feel real” sensation reads like a protective dissociation response: the brain dampens salience when the stimulus is too vast, too frequent, or too morally incompatible to integrate. Over time, that mismatch can show up as moral injury, sleep fragmentation, irritability, hypertension, and a kind of empathy fatigue that isn’t apathy so much as overload. I also appreciated the critique of “biography poisoning”. There’s a subtle clinical parallel: when we compress lived experience into narratives optimized for consumption, we lose resolution and then we start treating both others and ourselves as abstractions. Thank you for insisting on the human scale of things!
What a stunning, haunting essay. I’ll be sitting with your words for a long time. Thank you for sharing this with us. I came here from Caro Claire Burke sharing a quote from the piece. I’m so glad to have been introduced to your work.
Excellent read! So much to unpack. Your stream of consciousness is fascinating. Thank you!
lol what a complicated and often symptomatic range of reactions on display
Lol
Everything I can think to say is a cliche. I’ll say, I love this essay.
Carlito's Way is my favourite film, also.
Reading this was not unlike taking a walk in that winter air you recommend. Thank you.
It feels ridiculous to point out just one thing but here I go: I love that I'm old enough now to watch clichés sound rigorous to young ears. "This task is as hard as the day is long" sends people in their 20's and seeing it happen is marvelous. Anyway, this essay made me feel seen and ambushed and then seen again. lol
Protect yourself and your heart. When I got off the majority of social media, it was because it did not feel right anymore. I did not like the uncanny me. Because it is ways that, isn’t it? A curated life is not a life.
But it can feel lonely after a while. Separating yourself from the digital world — even if it is not the real world.
I feel all of this.
Your point about the abstraction of human life and the virality of death reminded me of the Facebook era when people would share videos of people's death quite consistently. I had gotten into an arguement with a friend about why I didn't want to watch those videos (so y'know stop sending them to me, stop sharing them, or if you must at least put a warning at the top so I could skip it) because I did not feel comfortable with watching people die. My friend's whole stance was that becasue we did not know these people that there was nothing wrong with witnessing their deaths via online. And it feels like that statement is a justification so many people use to consume other people's lives. I'm complicit too as I do enjoy watching YoutTube vlogs though I had the realization that I was not living for the sake of watching someone else live. Anyways, it feels like we create justifications to insulate us from these very real people who exist within the videos and images for sake of consumption; and then we turn them into the abstractions we need them to be to make sense of a life without actually living it. Death happens and everyone jumps on Twitter or Facebook or TikTok or where ever to make up narratives about the deceased and the reason of their death as if they were some omnioptent narrator watching it all unfold; when in reality they have absolutely no idea what happened, what lead up to it, why the person did what they did. They project their ideas onto people because their hair is black or because their skin is earthly brown or because their toroso isn't shaped in a way that is aestheically pleasing to them. I'm not saying this to judge anyone because I too am guilty of doing these things, and then using my ego to justify those projections. It's just sometimes I wonder how we get back to acknowledging that all humans are human? Or sometimes wondering if humans were always like this? Feeding differences into our ego to create narratives about others and why they deserve dehumanization in the first place.
Sorry for the long rant. But I just thought that this piece you wrote was very thought-provoking and then I decided to vomit all those thoughts here.
I really enjoyed the moment with your French coach.
I've been thinking lately (there goes that problem again!) the way out of these issues like depersonalization is more love. I suppose in the Christian sense. Love for your neighbor, love for your enemy, etc. It's a tough feeling to foster.