Writer · Filmmaker · Improv Performer

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About

Chris Conidis is a writer, filmmaker, and improv performer with over two decades of experience in satire, social commentary, and dark humor based in Saint Cloud, Florida. Beginning his career creating media and show scripts for Universal Studios and Walt Disney World, he honed his talent for immersive storytelling and guest experiences.

Chris Conidis is the founder of Elios Entertainment, where he’s produced short films, animations, and creative work across sci-fi, horror, and dark comedy. He’s trained in improv with UCB and Second City alumni, and his short stories and videos— Toolmaker, Return to Adam’s Earth, and The Magician’s Code — explore storytelling through satire and speculative fiction. He coaches improv and writing workshops, mentors emerging performers, and continues to explore visual storytelling through projects in film, magic, and evolutionary themes — always with a sharp sense of humor and a deep love for story.

Chris Conidis Not That. Not This. Just Noise.

chrisconidis5
Mar 8
2 min read

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..