I’m not that. I’m not the guy with the thousand-yard stare scrolling TikTok like he’s searching for the meaning of life in 15-second clips. I’m not the one with a ring light and a curated backdrop, selling you authenticity one sponsored post at a time. I’m not the mindfulness guru who burns incense made from capitalism and calls it enlightenment. I’m not the crypto bro in a Patagonia vest, preaching the gospel of blockchain while dodging taxes. I’m not the fitness influencer counting macros, selling powders, and forgetting that joy doesn’t come in a shaker bottle. I’m not that. I’m not that. I’m not this, either: the hollowed-out husk of ambition, slaving over a laptop under fluorescent lights, pretending productivity is a personality trait. I’m not your app, your algorithm, your walking push notification. And yet, here I am, standing in the windstorm of modernity, every buzzword slapping me across the face. Disruption. Hustle culture. Soft launch. Quiet quitting. Digital detox. It’s like living in a self-help seminar hosted by a malfunctioning AI. They tell me I need to ‘find my brand.’ As if I’m a commodity waiting to be unboxed, tagged, and sold on some invisible shelf. Everything’s a market now—our thoughts, our time, our dreams. ‘Monetize it,’ they say, as if the simple act of being alive isn’t exhausting enough. I’m not that, I scream. But the wind doesn’t care. It’s carrying the voices of podcasters selling productivity hacks, tech bros evangelizing the metaverse, and motivational speakers yelling GRIND NOW, SHINE LATER into a void that doesn’t echo back. And as the storm rages on, I realize—Progress City doesn’t want me to be anything other than that. Just another cog in its sleek, efficient, soul-sucking machine. A data point, a demographic, a user. And the worst part? It smiles while it swallows me whole. But no, I’m not that. I’ll stand here in the ruins of authenticity, clutching my sarcasm like a tattered flag, letting the wind howl. Let them call it a rant, a resistance, or just noise. At least it’s mine..
Chris Conidis Not That. Not This. Just Noise.
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