I don’t know what started my dissent down this rabbit hole. I was just scrolling. Then I was skimming. Then I was spiraling. Societal collapse, the quiet, creeping kind, not cinematic. The kind that feels less like a theory and more like a weather forecast.
It’s not Mad Max I’m worried about. It’s something slower and meaner. Layoffs that keep rolling in from Big Tech and beyond. Algorithms replacing us while executives throw up their hands and say, “This is just the future.” The middle class thinning into a whisper. Billionaires ballooning their fortunes while entire cities suffocate in heat. Governments that seem more concerned with theater than with governance. Democracy eroding, not in some dramatic coup, but through procedural rot, bad faith, and people giving up because the game looks rigged.
There’s no one moment where it all breaks. Just a long slide.
I don’t have a plan. I’m writing because I don’t know what else to do. The only thing I feel like I can do is type into the void and press publish.
Other than be a witness to the downfall of the internet, and the world at large, I can only take it one day at a time, breathe a little more deeply, and watch as the world rearranges itself. I have no hope in me at this moment. But I can’t fully give up. If I open my eyes and fate has decided that I’m supposed to be conscious and have agency, then I will sigh and keep this little blog online for as long as it can. Maybe just for me, maybe for a future no one wants to inherit. Maybe only the bots will read it.