13 May 2025

Today I read that a focus on consciousness leads to schizophrenia—or at least an over-focus. Turns out my interest in the unconscious might actually be keeping me from going insane. Quite ironically, it would seem—since my unconscious seems to contain so many irrational and insane ‘things’.

This is a top-secret meeting in a secret lair, somewhere in a canyon in the desert, hidden behind a waterfall. There’s a table, a fridge, and some shelves stacked above the fridge. Three people sit at the table, drinking cans of Coca-Cola.

I wonder how ChatGPT will render this?

This is a grainy, snowy spy photo. The digital snow contains the tensions beneath the surface—abstract forms that manifest as emotion. This is where all the rules are made—the ones we obey without question.

These are the people who make us afraid. Afraid of being called racist, sexist, Islamophobic, fundamentalist. These are the puppet-masters.

The digital snow contains anthropomorphic shapes—spirits frolicking in the room. This is where they make us afraid to ask a woman if she’s pregnant. To call her a witch. To talk about Jesus. Or sex.

This is where they decide that the colour of the year is Mocha Mousse.