MEHLANCHOLIA

My psychiatrist told me something so enlightening that I have to write about it before I forget it. As usual, I was blathering about my mood swings, for which I have been known since my earliest childhood. I have a deep-engrained tendency to go from one extreme to another without any visible transition (most of the time, I sleep between my mood changes). For instance, in my last blog entry, I wrote about the mental breakdown I was having at the moment, and I described how it felt as if the only existing thing was the present time, so much so that relativizing felt impossible. I can predict that my outbursts will be temporary and last no more than a few hours, but I cannot feel it. And to my big surprise, the next day I seemed completely healed from what occurred before. When I tried to recall the event, it felt like a distant and blurry memory. And then something triggered me again, and so on and so forth.

How can I explain this? The most obvious – and probably false – explanation is that I might have some kind of mood disorder. But my psychiatrist, who knows me pretty well, gave me a better one. She told me there is no contradiction between my positive and negative moods, the opposition is only superficial. My negative moods are understandable, as they always have a cause, something that triggers me. What we need to understand then is how and why I “forget” my mental breakdowns and replace them with a cheerful and bright attitude. According to my psychiatrist, it is just a coping mechanism. And it makes so much sense.

That very same day, I saw myself coping. I was very moody (always happens after therapy because it makes me think about shitty stuff). When I came home, I started working on a history assignment. As I read through some articles, I felt happy: my curiosity was being satisfied and I was learning interesting facts. And at that very moment, I could feel myself holding on to that positive feeling and turning it into a sign from the Universe, an indicator of my destiny: I, mehlancholia, was feeling happy because I am meant to study history and become a researcher and have an important place in academia and I was never really depressed and I can see the light at the end of the tunnel and the meaning of my life and I will succeed in my studies and my career and it was never that serious and I will write a thesis as soon as possible and become the excellent student that I always knew I was and AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAÀ̴͉̪̻̦̠̜̩̱̩̺̄̐̆̏̅͝A̶͚̒̈̈́̈́̀AA AAAĄ̷̘̬͓̰̘͚̿̉͆̓̓͘͠͠͝͝Ǎ̸̡̪̳̳͎͖͂̇̽̋͛̄̀̀͠A̴̢̙̳̫̪͈̭̔̌̎̈́̄͛̕͠AȂ̷͕̪̣̫̟̜͇͕̇̋̒͋͜AAAẢ̵̩̯̹Ả̷̧̡̟̙̺̭̣̲̟͎͋́AA̷̛̳̹̳̞̭̠̩̥̪̅̑̀͛̉̋͜AAA̵̰̾͝͝AA̷̺̮͈̹͓̮̥̋͑̌̀̓͘A̵͇̱̿̽̑͑͒͋̓͘͘͝AAĄ̷̡̼͇̙̂̆͋͂̚AA̵͎̬̝͕͕͖̮̓́̒͆̿̕Á̵̡̧̙̟̣̹̱̲̹̔̃̌̿À̶̢͉͉̣̂̀̀͒̐̍̚͜͝Ą̵̧̲̜͙̞̹̗͖̾̅̒̈͋̓̓̉A̶̪͝A̵̡̭͎̳̗͊Ḁ̵̧̨͉̠̝͒̊͐̾A̶̝̪̋͌̑̍̾͊̋̃̚͠A̶̩̙͆̓̓̇Ä̷̢̧͇͔̙͖̔̋̊͛͘͘A̶͍̣͙̳̩̰̮͓͛͐̀̓̔͛̎̇̚̚͜͜Å̵̦̘͐À̴͉̪̻̦̠̜̩̱̩̺̄̐̆̏̅͝A̶͚̒̈̈́̈́̀Ą̷̘̬͓̰̘͚̿̉͆̓̓͘͠͠͝͝Ǎ̸̡̪̳̳͎͖͂̇̽̋͛̄̀̀͠A̴̢̙̳̫̪͈̭̔̌̎̈́̄͛̕͠Ȃ̷͕̪̣̫̟̜͇͕̇̋̒͋͜ Ả̵̩̯̹Ả̷̧̡̟̙̺̭̣̲̟͎͋́A̷̛̳̹̳̞̭̠̩̥̪̅̑̀͛̉̋͜A̵̰̾͝͝A̷̺̮͈̹͓̮̥̋͑̌̀̓͘A̵͇̱̿̽̑͑͒͋̓͘͘͝Ą̷̡̼͇̙̂̆͋͂̚A̵͎̬̝͕͕͖̮̓́̒͆̿̕Á̵̡̧̙̟̣̹̱̲̹̔̃̌̿À̶̢͉͉̣̂̀̀͒̐̍̚͜͝Ą̵̧̲̜͙̞̹̗͖̾̅̒̈͋̓̓̉A̶̪͝A̵̡̭͎̳̗͊Ḁ̵̧̨͉̠̝͒̊͐̾A̶̝̪̋͌̑̍̾͊̋̃̚͠A̶̩̙͆̓̓̇Ä̷̢̧͇͔̙͖̔̋̊͛͘͘A̶͍̣͙̳̩̰̮͓͛͐̀̓̔͛̎̇̚̚͜͜Å̵̦̘͐

I
Être patiente et accepter l’état des choses. La lutte ne passe pas toujours par l’action. Parfois, il suffit d’observer avec attention, c’est-à-dire avec amour.

Je me sens mal. Je me sens triste. Je me sens nulle. Je me sens inutile. Je ne sais rien faire. Je suis conne. Je suis inutile. Je ne mérite rien de bon ni de beau. Je suis vouée à la souffrance. Je suis dégueulasse, je suis sale, je ne veux pas qu’on me touche, qu’on me parle. Tu es moche. Tu es conne. Tu es une pleurnicheuse. Oui, oui, oui. A vos ordres. Je suis si pathétique. Moquez-vous de moi. Je ne mérite pas d’avoir des amis. Je mérite d’être seule, de pourrir dans ma chambre crade à petit feu. Je vais m’isoler. Je vais couper tous les ponts. Je vais cesser de me nourrir. Je vais me priver de lumière et de douceur. Je vais laisser la tristesse me bercer jusqu’à ce que mon cœur en soit consommé. Je n’ai plus de force. Je suis faible. Je suis faible.

Il ne faut pas entendre : je crois que ce que je pense est vrai. Il faut entendre : aïe.

Ce ne sont pas des descriptions de la réalité. Ce sont des cris de douleur. J’ai mal.


II
C’est un accès de tristesse, et ils sont devenus temporaires. Lorsque j’en ai, je perds la notion du temps. Ce qui existe, c’est le présent. Le passé et le futur n’existent pas, n’existent plus. Il n’est plus possible de relativiser. Je suis plongée dans un désespoir sans nom, et personne, je pèse mes mots, personne ne peut imaginer à quel point c’est douloureux. A chaque fois, je me demande si je vais en mourir. Ma douleur est si grande, qu’elle n’est plus seulement psychique. C’est tout mon corps qui crie. Je veux m’ôter la douleur, je veux m’ôter la vie. Je ne peux même plus me lever. Et si je pouvais me lever, je brûlerais le monde entier avec la rage qui m’anime. Je veux casser le monde casser mon corps. Je suis épuisée.


III
Plus tard : on revient à la cause. La cause est : une mauvaise note, une remarque désobligeante de la part d’une inconnue, une blague ambigüe. La cause est : un énième rappel de ma valeur. Toutes ces choses portent l’écho des coups que j’ai reçus dans mon enfance. Et pourquoi passer par des détours ? Que l’on me frappe directement. Je vais le faire moi-même.


IV
Maintenant j’ai la nausée. Je sais que ça va se finir, je sais que mes émotions vont s’estomper, je sais que ces pensées ne sont pas les miennes, je le sais et je ne le sais pas. Je vais m’endormir.

A few days ago, I started reading Tolstoy’s Teaching of Christ Narrated for Children and despite my profound love for anything involving ethics, I couldn’t get past the fiftieth page (even though the book has only 80 pages). Of course, it isn’t a book about ethics per se, but a huge part of religion is about how we should live our lives (the question of ethics). The obstacle to my understanding of the book is quite evident: Christianity. And as I reflected on what I read, I felt the urge to write clearly what makes me so utterly frustrated when I debate with Christians (but also Muslims).

The principles, values, virtues and commandments preached by Christians are so difficult to grasp because they are based on a whole theological apparatus that is beyond my reach. For instance, every three lines of Tolstoy’s book, obscure notions – God, the soul and its immortality – are evoked and form the basis of all the ideas put forward. This is not a problem in itself, but it becomes one from the moment when the initial dogmas are too metaphysically heavy – for they imply postulating the existence of quite a few entities. That God exists, it is fine. But that God is good, that is too much. That there exists in us something immaterial, it is fine. But that it is immortal, that is too much. The problem is these two things are central, because ethical commandments are always linked to a certain conception of happiness, and in the case of Christianity (but not only), this happiness corresponds to the salvation of the soul. It is too hard to understand – and as much for non-believers as for believers.

I always end up disappointed by my debates with believers regarding their dogmas because they do one of the two following things. 1) Either they do not understand anything about their religion and are satisfied with the sentence "it is God who knows everything, there are things that will always be beyond us" – and I would like to know how the hell they adhere to their own religion when they themselves admit that they do not understand it. 2) Or they understand its internal logic, but it is based on dogmas that they have only acquired through "faith". And do not misunderstand me: faith is not something as obscure as people claim. I myself have faith when I say that I want to do good and avoid evil. But it leads us again to the question of the ontological cost of our presuppositions: on the one hand, we postulate the existence of good and evil; on the other hand, we also postulate the existence of a benevolent powerful God that can be concerned about us (instead of being indifferent to us), of a prophet who spoke the truth against all others, of an immortal entity in us who will be judged at the death of our body, etc. Anyhow, it's too complicated, and it always blocks me when I talk to believers. I admire their concern for good (although it is often tinged with enormous selfishness, aka saving one's soul), but I have not had a single debate where my arguments have been taken seriously, instead of being swept away by dogmas. Perhaps I am too demanding…

(Fun fact: while searching for the English title of the book I read, I stumbled across Tolstoy’s Wikipedia and discovered he was vegan... Surely a heart as big as his had some space for animals.)

Wanting to write but having to laboriously wrest the words from my pen! How annoying.

"On dit qu'on a tort de penser exclusivement les relations personnelles à partir des rapports de pouvoir. Il y aurait aussi l'amour, la solidarité, la charité. Mais justement, ce qui est essentiel et si difficile dans l'amour, c'est qu'il consiste à suspendre le rapport de pouvoir."

“The past is never dead. It’s not even past.”

The tranquility I managed to reach, build and secure after so many struggles is being shaken precisely when I thought it was getting robust. Although I was expecting my usual intruder, a pathetic, lamentable, snotty-nosed child knocked at my door.

Her irruptions can be counted on the fingers of one hand. Two in late August, three in September. She is quietly settling in. She tells me about our life. She talks to me about our family. And the more I know, the more I am terrified. But it is not the realization of people’s cruelty, passivity or blindness that horrifies me. The hardest thing isn't knowing what was done to me. It is feeling what I felt.

I’m running out of inspiration and there’s nothing more tedious than to read a text that’s been impassively written. Hence, I am once again tempted to share my thoughts through a bullet list rather than artificially fill in the gaps of my imagination. These two sentences took me ten minutes to figure out. Bullet list of life updates:

• I finally went hiking (for 5 days!) and I absolutely immediately totally undoubtedly loved it. New hobby just dropped.
• I bought a monthly membership for August at my local climbing gym and ended up falling in love with bouldering. Next week I’ll get a yearly membership. This wasn’t supposed to happen.
• As a consequence of the above, I am now able to do push-ups - which is crazy considering how weak and lifeless my body used to be.
• I had several social interactions with different people. I thought that instead of hating myself for my shyness and my unfortunate disposition to go nonverbal, I could occasionally use the anxiolytics my psychiatrist specifically prescribed for this kind of situation. Turns out they work really well.
• I baked my first cake (vegan 🗣🗣🗣🗣🗣) ever and it was delicious.
• I decided to take a Portuguese course at my university.
• I realized how lucky I am to have crossed paths with someone as pure, sincere and delicate as my boyfriend.

I am exhausted. I don’t want to argue anymore. Arguments don’t matter. They seldom work when it comes to moral questions. People already think they know what’s good or bad – even if it’s only at an unconscious level: “I try to eat less meat and buy free-range eggs…” When they do something that they know deep down is wrong, they will try anything to stay on the surface of themselves: “… but it is too hard, and I love bacon, and and and”.

Being accountable to oneself is difficult. I sincerely believe that it is extremely painful. As painful as it is necessary. I don’t need to convince anyone that eating animal corpses is wrong. Anyone can know it, but few dare to really recognize it. Socrates: “No one does wrong willingly”. It is commonly thought that the meaning of this quote is that if you know deep down that something is wrong, then you will become incapable of doing it. After becoming vegan, I would add that if you do something objectively wrong, you will always find excuses to salve your conscience. You either make yourself believe you are forced to do it (I have no choice, it is too difficult, too expensive, etc.), or you try to convince yourself that it isn’t wrong (it’s natural to eat meat, we’re omnivores not herbivores, animals eat animals, cows don’t suffer from being milked, same goes for chickens who lay eggs, etc.).

We love to cultivate our own ignorance at all costs. We don’t know what’s wrong because we don’t want to know what’s wrong. Please, don’t make me change my comfortable life. Please, please, please, don’t make me sacrifice my own pleasure. I don’t want to think. I don’t want to see what I do. I don’t want to know who I am.

Eating and moving are the two things I struggle to do the most when I'm alone. My body feels like a burden. I wait until my needs become so urgent that I have no choice but to get out of bed, eat the few foods in my fridge, open the window to get some air, take a few steps outside my room. When I get out of bed, my blood rushes to my head very quickly, and suddenly, I can't see anything. I'm anaemic, I'm tired, I have so little strength, my body is weak. I am weak.

I spend a lot of time on Instagram watching reels. The other day, I came across a video that I was able to focus on for more than 15 seconds (huge). The video simply pointed out, without any real pretension, that a bird that doesn't fly, a horse that doesn't run, and a monkey that doesn't climb are sick animals.

Had it slipped my mind that I'm sick too? I already knew it. But this time, it was different. Because it's never been so obvious to me that I am in a morbid state. So, I said to myself: "I'm going to move my body". And since it is very common for me to plan things that I never do, I asked my wonderful lover for help. I told him: "I want to move my body".

We plan to go hiking very soon (as soon as the weather becomes a little gentler) to realize one of my dearest dreams (or rather, a fantasy): yes, I'm finally going to live my cottagecore/earthcore/goblincore/forestcore/fairycore life. More seriously, I really liked walking in nature as a kid until the very beginning of my adolescence, right when I fell into internet addiction (and depression too). I often dreamed of getting lost in the forest, so much that I sometimes deliberately took hazardous paths in the hope of not finding my way back. I haven't tried to understand this strange desire yet, but I would like to reawaken my love for large organic labyrinths.

I don't blame myself for being so static and passive. I think it's a natural consequence of my mental state, obviously, but also of my painful memories of PE classes in high school. I ended up considering that sport wasn't for me and either way, it attracted me very little. I don’t like sports for sports’ sake, ball games, running, etc. I want to hike mountains, explore forests, overcome obstacles and control my body instead of being controlled by it. That’s what I loved when I was younger, and that’s what I’ve forgotten over time. Anyway, I can’t wait to go hiking (and find out if this drivel was pure romanticization or if I really like this shit…).

In the meantime, my boyfriend encourages me to slowly get back in shape, especially by dragging me to his bouldering sessions. Turns out I love it. Its only flaw is its price. It is incredibly expensive, and the only available discounts are quite ridiculous. Thank goodness I found a way to pay them (my man). We also plan to go walking for a few hours in the forests on the outskirts of Paris, but again, we're waiting for the weather to be good! One (or more) blog posts will be dedicated to my hike. I can’t wait to write about it!

Notre voiture a été incendiée. La veille, des voitures avaient déjà été brûlées à quelques centaines de mètres de chez moi. On s'attendait à ce qu'ils renouvellent leurs conneries le lendemain, mais on n'imaginait pas qu'on en serait les victimes. Je suis tellement désespérée de voir comment les cités s'autodétruisent. Je ne partage aucune forme de sympathie envers ceux qui osent s'en prendre à des personnes qui sont déjà fragilisées, y compris lorsqu'elles font partie de ma communauté. Mais le fait est que, justement, on appartient à la même communauté. Ce n'est pas seulement une question de race (au sens de classe), mais aussi d'une condition socio-économique partagée. Et donc, autant je condamne ces imbéciles, autant je sais que la faute reviendra toujours ultimement à un Etat qui rend possible ce genre d'aberrations. L'insécurité, c'est un fait, et je ne laisserai jamais ceux qui n'habitent pas les cités en diminuer l'ampleur. Le problème c'est que certains (la droite et l'extrême droite) croient que c'est par la répression qu'elle se résoudra (et accessoirement, ils instrumentalisent ce sentiment pour diffuser leur idéologie raciste en essentialisant ces comportements). Mais la réalité nous montre que c'est absolument inefficace. Des opérations policières de grande envergure ont déjà été menées pour soi-disant "sécuriser" (mais nous savons tous que l'objectif est purement punitif) les quartiers difficiles de ma ville. Bilan : les points de deal ont été légèrement déplacés, les conflits armés ont repris progressivement, et les victimes continuent de se multiplier. Ce qu'il faut, c'est donner aux générations futures les moyens d'éviter d'être aussi pathétiques que leurs aînés. Cela passe bien évidemment par l'éducation, avec des interventions très tôt à l'école pour sensibiliser les enfants, mais ce qu'il nous faut avant tout ce sont des conditions de vie dignes pour toutes et tous. Parce que quand on n'a déjà rien à perdre, on n'éprouve pas de regret à détruire le peu qu'on a.

C'est bien modeste comme demande. Et pourtant.

Why can’t you give me a clear answer to my question? Please, think. Please, look at me, listen, think, then answer. Think while you answer. Think with me. I want to think with you, but you don’t want to. Stop using your storage. I don’t care about your storage. Please, answer me. Why do you believe what you believe? Why do you do what you do? Be honest. Be honest, please. No no no I don’t understand your answer. I can’t accept your answer. I don’t know how to do this; I am so sorry. I can’t do it anymore. I don’t want to talk to you, I won’t be able to. I feel lonely. I am crying. I might be insane.

I finally switched to Ubuntu after hesitating for six months and I am… disappointed. I deeply resonate with the open-source movement, and I love being more conscious and in control of my electronic devices – which Unix-like operating systems encourage (at least more than Windows or macOS lol). When I first installed Ubuntu I absolutely loved it: the interface is aesthetically pleasing, my laptop doesn’t lag at all (which it did with Windows 10) and it is very beginner-friendly. However, it drains my battery so fucking fast that I can’t even watch a 2-hour movie without having to charge it. I read from several forums that it is most likely because laptops are tuned for Windows and I can’t do much more than some tweaks that will give me a slightly better battery life (this also applies to other distros). I cannot imagine how tedious it will be to charge my computer every two hours as a college student whose main working tool is her laptop. I’m afraid I will return to Windows – which I’m definitely not keen on.

I swear I’m looking for the slightest bit of inspiration to write because I love having a personal website and it would absolutely break my heart if I abandoned this project. But I sincerely do not have anything important to say. So I thought of simply sharing what a typical day in my life looks like at the moment. (This is for all my depressed homies, dwelling in the summer boredom or anything of resemblance).

• Get up at 10 am.
• Breakfast.
• Learn modern standard Arabic (productive activity count: 1).
• Brainrot to compensate for brain effort.
• Eat.
• Complain to someone about how much I hate the current state of politics.
• Complain to someone about the shitty weather (la pluie en big juillet) and using it as an excuse for not leaving my house (I would have stayed at home anyway).
• Nap for 1 or 2hrs.
• Eat.
• Eventually watch a movie after browsing my watchlist for 30 minutes.
• Listen to music. Optional: think about the problems I’m distancing myself from and cry.
• Brainrot until brain battery is drained.
• Sleep.

Jokes aside, I genuinely wonder what the fuck people do with their time, especially in summer. It can get so boring, so empty, so, so lonely. Maybe it is because people have friends they see regularly and I... don’t.

Are you lying? The words you use are not the right size for your thought. The words you use are too big for the things you’d like to express. Why do you use big words if your thoughts aren’t as big? Why do you use those words? Is it the truth you want to tell? I think you just want to tell something beautiful. But truth and beauty are not the same thing. It doesn’t imply they are incompatible, for they can meet (see mathematics). But they also are often mistaken with each other (see philosophy). Truth and beauty, they are not the same. I know a lot of words that sound beautiful: eternity, absolute, God. But they are almost always used to tell lies. Choosing to use big words is no innocent decision. Because truth requires clarity, while playing with ambiguity is the perfect way to lie.

Nine months have passed. But they don’t count. I don’t want them to count. My life completely fell apart nine months ago. Yet I remain under the rubble of the brittle structure which held my life together. I swear that I tried to get out. But perhaps I was too naïve to rely on the good old methods of dealing with my problems. “You have to start all over.” Change everything around you. Hope that it will change you, too.

  But it never did.

     But that’s all I know.

I usually avoid talking about my position on animal rights if nobody asks, but whenever someone brings the topic to the table, whether by joking about eating "meat", i.e. corpses of sentient beings, or by simply asking me why I refuse to eat a certain dish, I can't help but talk about my veganism. Today was one of those days where the topic was brought up in a very displeasing manner.

I was half-listening to my epistemology lecture when my professor said something that caught my attention: "the fact that plants and animals have certain abilities doesn't imply a moral duty towards them". To him there was a risk of making a naturalistic fallacy: inferring a moral duty from a natural fact ("animals and plants have x ability"). The ability discussed was the one to communicate, but he then said that even if we discovered that they were able to suffer (and animals do suffer, although we don't know much about plants), the conclusion would be the same. And, not very surprisingly may I say, he proceeded to mock those foolish vegans who, God forbid, say that we shouldn't eat (I correct him: exploit) animals because they suffer. According to him, when trying to justify the choice to not eat animals, we end up lacking rational reasons to support it. If you're even slightly familiar with moral philosophy, you already know that the same problem arises when you try to justify any moral decision.

During the pause between the two hours of his lecture, I presented my objection to him. He said that he agreed, but then added that veganism is a matter of the privileged and that by affirming what he probably saw as an identity (it isn't, it is an ethical and philosophical position), we would be claiming our moral superiority to those who eat animals. I will show what's wrong in his answer (a longer article about veganism is already planned for my thoughts page) and move on to rant about the type of person he represents: deeply politicized and involved in the mainstream social justice causes (feminism, antiracism, blah blah) while also completely ignorant or disregardful of the controversial ones (even when they are theoretically coherent and accepted by the intellectuals that bother thinking about it).

1) There is no naturalistic fallacy in saying that if animals suffer, we have a duty towards them. Firstly, because the naturalistic fallacy takes the next form: "x is natural, thus x is good". The argument discussed can't be reduced to this form. Secondly, because in this case, the moral duty comes from the negative value we give to suffering, whereas the naturalistic fallacy gives moral value to whatever is natural. Not only his argument was wrong, but also, I have yet to encounter a single moral theory that doesn't give suffering, in and for itself, a negative value.
2) Veganism isn't for the privileged, it is for anybody that cares about suffering. Firstly, if you really, really didn't have the choice (which is seldom the case), then you should already know that ethics presuppose freedom of choice. No freedom, no moral judgment. Next question. Secondly, plants are cheaper than corpses. You don't have to eat avocado toast to be vegan. Eat salad. Eat vegetable couscous. Eat fucking pasta and rice. Thirdly, if you care that much about the unprivileged, why don't you fight for vegan products to be cheaper? The problem isn't: "oh, it takes privilege to be moral so I'll stop being moral so that I can role-play as an unprivileged person", but "how can we make ethical options more accessible to everyone?".
3) Claiming you're vegan doesn't make you seem more morally superior than claiming you're an antiracist, a feminist, an anticapitalist, etc. I think my professor brought this up because, perhaps for once, he was in the supposedly morally inferior club. It is a common reaction from carnists to feel immediately attacked when I say that I am vegan or that I support veganism. It is quite clear to me that if people get this uncomfortable discussing this question it is because they somehow already know that there is something wrong with eating animals. They feel as if I'm accusing them of being immoral because I was probably shedding light on a painful truth - a moral truth about themselves. But in fact, I am not here to judge you. I don't know who you are. But I can know what you do. So if you eat animals when you could avoid it, you are doing something wrong. That's it.

Although I already had plenty of debates with stubborn, often arrogant carnists, this one was particularly annoying. My professor loves giving a political twist to his lectures, and I appreciate it. He frequently shows how seemingly harmless ideas might be oppressive. But what about the idea that veganism is foolish? The irony in this is that he talked about how animals could be subjected to epistemic injustice when we refuse to recognize them as individuals who possess knowledge, consciousness, or a form of rationality. But my brother in Christ, you eat a fucking tortured chicken every two days and that's the best example of injustice towards animals you could find?

There is a huge moral "blind spot" in our societies. But I refuse to look away from reality. Animals deserve respect.

I dreamed that I was late for an important class. I missed half of it. Yet I forced myself to go to the 30 useless, mind-numbing remaining minutes.

While walking to university, I noticed red droplets falling on my shirt. My nose was bleeding. Suddenly, my face, hands, and clothes were completely covered in blood. I had two options. 1) Call for help and return home. 2) Don't miss my holy, sacrosanct class. I chose the latter. "At least my professor would know that my lateness was genuinely justified."

Imagine how miserable I looked. A young woman covered in blood, barely managing to stand up, desperately trying to walk while her body screamed for even the slightest attention. If a passerby tried to help me, I might have answered that I just needed to be taken to university as soon as possible.

I woke up feeling pitiful. Replace nose bleeding with severe depression: it's no longer a dream I'm describing.

We always end up alone. Seldom before death, but always afterwards. I am 20 years old and my flesh is already rotting.

It's a Sunday afternoon, 2:43 p.m. I'm quietly lying in my bed. The curtains are closed.
One minute passed.
One more now.
Three. When time passes it means that we can distinguish a before and an after. There is movement. There is change.

Time doesn't exist for me.

I always dreamt about having my own personal space on the internet where I could share whatever I wanted without any format restraints. I am mainly using my website as an alternative to social media. However, both function in very different ways. Almost nobody is going to read what I post here, whereas I always had an audience in my socials that I knew would interact with me at some point. I don't know if I will be able to keep my website going if nobody visits it. And at the same time, it is necessary to put aside my expectations and purely post without having constantly in mind who will see it, what they'll think about it, etc. Social media pushes these thoughts to their very extreme: we all know how people can end up staging their lives online. They are permanently aware of the Other's gaze, and they want to appear as appealing as possible to them. Perhaps, in a very narcissistic fashion, they only post so that they can see themselves being watched.

This is less likely to happen in the indie web, since the moment you post you already know that only a tiny bunch of people will give a fuck about you. You have to post for the sake of it. Merely curating a superficial digital identity is not sufficient to make you stay here.