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There are two types of philosophers: those who incorporate faith and those who deny it.
Writing, at this point for me, is an act of rehabilitation, like lifting weights to strengthen a bad back; my capacity for attention is completely fucked. I feel it all the time; the increased time I’ve had to spend online since Covid has only made it worse. My mind is now totally accustomed to the Internet; it feels slightly uncomfortable whenever it is slightly untethered from the Eternal Stream of Information.
A moral quandary: how to forget that anyone is reading? how to write for the sake of exercising the self? I worry that the observing eye of the Internet now exists in my brain permanently. I want to write messages in a bottle; I don’t want to think about who’s actually opening the bottle. There is more honesty in one way communication.
