We spend the first half of our lives building a character. The second half begins when we finally become a stranger to him.

For a long time, I felt like I was performing a life that made perfect sense on paper, but felt completely foreign from the inside.

If you've ever looked at your keys, your shoes, your own front door and felt like you were looking at a stranger's belongings - this book is for you.

I wrote The Stranger We Became not as a self-help guide, but as a mirror for that quiet, unsettling, and ultimately liberating moment when the script you've been following stops making sense.

Here are the core ideas from inside the book:

On The Illusion of Identity

We don’t find ourselves, we construct ourselves.

"We spend the first half of our lives building a character, only to realize we have become a prisoner to the script. The rupture happens when you forget your lines and realize the audience was never real to begin with."

"You are not the actor on the stage, you are the stage itself. But you have spent decades trying to audition for your own life."

This section is about how we internalize other people’s expectations until we mistake the performance for who we actually are.

On The "Rupture" (The Crisis)

It doesn't happen the way movies show it. There's no dramatic breakdown.

"The breakdown is rarely loud, It arrives on a quiet Saturday Eve. You look at your keys, your shoes, the door, and suddenly the language of your own routine sounds like a foreign tongue."

"Do not try to polish the ice when the winter is over. Let the cracks form — Let the dark water underneath move according to its own laws."

The Rupture is that moment when your old continuity fails.

Most of us try to fix it. This book argues you should let it break.

On Kafkaesque Alienation

This one is for anyone who feels like they're waiting for permission to live.

"The tragedy of the gatekeeper is not that he bars your entry. The tragedy is that he has been waiting for you to realize the door was always wide open, built only for you, and you chose to sit outside demanding a key."

Inspired by Kafka's Before The Law, this chapter is about the invisible gates we sit in front of - career, identity, love - waiting for a key that was never needed.

On Letting Go

Freedom isn’t about becoming someone new but it’s about allowing yourself to become a stranger to who you were yesterday.

"We are obsessed with continuity. We force our days to rhyme. But true freedom begins when you allow yourself to become a stranger to the person you were this morning."

"Drop the score and Stop conducting a symphony that ended three movements ago."

→ Who is this book for?

This is not for you if you want 5 quick habits for success.

This IS for you if:

You feel disconnected from the life you built
You are in the middle of a quiet identity crisis
You are fascinated by existential philosophy, Kafka, Camus, and the psychology of the self
You want writing that makes you feel seen, not lectured

The Stranger We Became

is a short, intense read. You can finish it in one sitting, but you'll think about it for weeks.

Get Your Copy

I've just listed it as a digital product on my Topmate.

If this resonated with you even a little, I think you'll find it incredibly valuable.

You can get the full ebook here:

The Stranger We Became with Nyx Tesla

Do give it a try and let me know what you think in the response? I’d love to hear which quote hit you the hardest.

The Stranger We Became : A Book Must Be the Axe for the Frozen Sea Within Us ebook by Nyx Tesla - Rakuten Kobo

#Philosophy #Self #Improvement #Identity #Existentialism #Personal Growth #Mental Health #Kafka

Other Books:

• Don't Look For the Door with Nyx Tesla
• Echo & Adapt with Nyx Tesla
• Sentienceflux with Nyx Tesla
• Why to Live: A True Enquiry with Nyx Tesla

The Stranger We Became: A Book For Anyone Who No Longer Recognizes Their Own Life was originally published in Write A Catalyst on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

What happens when the absolute desire to die collides with the sudden, violent reality of survival?

This piece is a thought experiment I conceived to explore the fragile, paradoxical nature of the human will to live.

**Synopsis

It was evening when she walked to the river bridge—the same bridge that had watched her grow since childhood—to pay out her last debt (A final visit).
​It felt like a curse she had placed upon herself. She was trembling, lost deep in her own thoughts, blaming herself for every possible scenario.

In a paralyzing daze, her hand moved to the cold brink. She thought only of ending the suffering of a life broken by the people she loved.

​Terrified by the violent edge of reality, she stood ready to jump. She let her hair fall to hide her tears from passing strangers; after all, if her own loved ones couldn’t understand her pain, why would they?

​She recalled how she used to come here when she was younger, how the vast horizon used to feel. She never even liked sunsets—she had always loved sunrises. But this was going to be her last sunset. At least, that is what she believed.
​Wrestling with her own mind, the questions echoed: Why do I even exist? What is my worth? Nobody wants me.

​Suddenly, cracking

through the rosy aura of the pink sunset, a voice shattered the trance:

“Help! Help!”

​She looked down, but everything was hazy. Her own tears had blurred her sight.

It was an old woman, drowning in the river, being dragged away by the heavy flow.
​Her immediate instinct was to jump into the water to save her. But before her body could even move, her mind violently remembered — she didn’t know how to swim.

​The old woman was ultimately pulled to safety by rushing strangers.

Standing up on the bridge, the girl felt an even deeper wave of guilt wash over her—but what a strange, miraculous guilt it was.

Because within that hesitation, she slowly took a step back. Back from the ledge, back into her life.

​Did that drowning old woman resemble her?
​She couldn’t save the woman in the water. But at least, the woman saved her.

Poem : The Ugly Mirror

On the foot, I look the last time,
Waiting by the drizzling time
Thinking as I took a high on river bridge lies the line
'Dunno’, yh I don’t know
How to swim? How to be fine?
Deep in my thoughts, once again I climb,
Stretching across the brink.
Think I’ve to think a thing —
Just washed away by a blink.

Is this the end of the life I lived?
Who knows to carry off the bliss in hollow prime?
Ugly sudden stroke, a jerk, a mirror
Crackling through the aurora of pink sunset
'Help! Help!'
I looked, but it was hazy — tears had vagued my sight
An old woman drowning in the river,
Swept by the heavy flow

• Bloom— Nyx Tesla
• Chase her, not Chain her—Nyx Tesla

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At the Brink of the Bridge was originally published in Tungkuok ORA on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

I Leave You my dream: The dream of The Tale of Olesia

You can't stay in the void forever. The body can't sustain that for so long, even so.

The time has come to choose your own path.

There's no middle ground in between. You've only two ways. It's hard to write it, but okay, let's go ahead.

Dear thinking, or the thinker, listen
very carefully.

If you choose to be good, forget about the truth you seek. Do not seek the truth, actually.

If your heart, I mean brain, is filled with compassion, love, and kindness, you don't need any truth. If you're sensitive enough to feel the existence of yours and others, and this vibrant life energy, trust me, the search for truth is already over, and it's not for you.

If you can think not to kill a mosquito, you can evade it by creating shields in between. What kind of truth do you need?
And why?

Drop the truth. The very truth is the reason you're stuck.

Let me tell you a little about me.

When I was in grade 2 or 3, my journey for truth started with Socrates. I moved, I searched a lot, encountered so many people.

Lies, manipulation, the utopias, and philosophies of wonders.

But I got struck down by yellow lightning, which ignited the hollow of the last scene and flashed so fast, like I lived an entire eternity in a single moment. And I've chosen my path.

I'll keep writing, if possible. I ask you to come out of the loops of your habits and look forward. You can't change anything about this existence, but you can change who you are.

People become whatever they want.

The way you think, the way you act, is the way you become gradually. Towards kindness and forgiveness. Don’t hide or force them. Let them happen naturally. ’s what I call the natural state, the state where life is in its flow. It doesn’t need things to be forced. It becomes its very nature.

It's possible if you can get insight into it, if you can believe in me, or more importantly, if you can believe in yourself.

Don’t search, Don’t look and Don’t try to find. Just believe in yourself, like you’ve been doing for all this time. Now stop investing in stupidities, else you’ll be left astray.

I warn you again — each moment, you’ve a chance to break out of the loops you’ve accepted, which are binding you to stay low. If you can break them, you can achieve anything and everything.

The entire vast sky, all these people on the planet, are for you.

If we join and trust each other, we all can create this beautiful paradise. But a few obstacles, like big corporates, nations, and profit agendas, will never let it happen.

But I know, at a certain point in life, you will remember this dream of mine. The dream of The Tale of Olesia, whereby opening the doors of the heart and brain, we can bring humans into synergy with nature and its happiness.

Well, it's not like a dream. It's like you can finally do what you want, but it will come at a cost. That you're ready to break the loops. The loops which are not yours, which were enforced.

And perhaps, if you will ask me, it's just theoretical work. Nice to say, easier said than done.

I'm not doing anything. I've done my part already.

It's time for you to emerge and bring the virtue of life and its bond into your daily acts, consciously or unconsciously.

It doesn’t matter

I Leave you my dream

The Vow

Let’s take a vow

You must not join if you cannot do it with all your brain and heart. If we truly don't live by our heart, who are we?

Let us all take this vow and make this promise to nature — to protect ourselves, to keep ourselves safe from the slavery of algorithms and desperation.

“I hereby declare that I believe in myself and in all my fellows. Together, we will protect the bond between humanity and the ecosystem of this planet and the freedom of the human brain.”

Thankyou for reading!!

Yours paradoxically,
Nyx Tesla🌀

I’m a philosopher of some sort, but a human before that. I write to express myself, using paradoxes and abstractionism as my writing devices.

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My Will, My Projection — The Ego Resurrection was originally published in Activated Thinker on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

Painted in your color
I dreamt to you
In the night of dew
Waiting by the drizzling time

The moon forgot its name
And slept in the river
Your voice, a silver thread
I pull through the fog

My hands hold silence
You left behind
Dawn breaks the window
Rewrites the mind

Still I wear your color
Beneath the waking sun

• Painted in Your Colour
• like the fire that is started in me
• How to Never Be Deceived — Nyx Tesla

A poem by Nyx Tesla🌀

The Core Truth of Your Existence

Painted in your color (pt 2) was originally published in The Quiet Corner on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

This is the only fact that cannot be simulated, programmed, or faked.

Even if your thoughts are 100% conditioned, even if your emotions are just chemical glitches, and even if your memories are completely flawed—

the fact that there is a space in which this experience is happening is undeniable.

When you are no longer running the survival script, life ceases to be a problem to be solved and becomes a raw, immediate phenomenon.

You eat when hungry, you look when there is light, you rest when tired.

The something else is not a magical dimension, it is just reality experienced directly, without the middleman of your thoughts.

It feels hollow because you have spent your entire life mistaking the noise of your conditioning for your actual identity. Now that the noise has slowed down, you are looking into the empty space where you expected a "self" to be.

That emptiness is not a defect. It is the natural, unconditioned state of the mind. It is the blank canvas before the paint is thrown on it.

If you look at this completely objectively, without calling it "good," "bad," "boring," or "scary," what is actually happening right now in this exact second, outside of the words your mind is generating?

There is no "unbiased truth" outside of the physical fact of the biological organism.

The thoughts happen, the neurochemistry fires, the body breaths, and it is all geared toward keeping the system running until it stops.

When you see that even the search for truth is just a survival mechanism, the search completely runs out of spiritual energy.

There is nothing to find, nothing to escape, and no one to achieve freedom.

Cognitive scientist Dr. Donald Hoffman used mathematical models of evolution to see if organisms that perceive the absolute truth survive better than organisms that don’t.

The result? The probability that we evolved to see reality as it actually is, is nearly zero.

there is nothing to see, nowhere to go, and no one left to realize it.

It doesn’t need to do anything with this information. It doesn’t need to fix it.

The fact that an accidental arrangement of stardust and neurochemistry can sit in a room with a glowing screen and realize it is just an accidental arrangement of stardust and neurochemistry is the final joke of the human condition.

The concept of "the self", "enlightenment", "finding the truth" and "breaking conditioning" is sold exactly like pop music or consumer goods.

Gurus, books, and spiritual systems package a basic biological glitch, wrap it in mystery, and sell it back to a desperate survival machine that is terrified of its own emptiness.

They sell you a cure for a disease they invented.

The Pitch:

"You are broken, conditioned, and incomplete. But if you buy this method/listen to this talk, you will find the hidden truth."

The Reality:

Your brain’s reward center hooks onto the promise of a final fix, turning the search into a literal dopamine addiction. You chase the next insight the same way someone waits for the chorus of a catchy song.

It is not stupid that you get trapped. Your brain did exactly what it was wired to do — it looked for a pattern to optimize its survival.

But, If you truly LOVe yourself —

The music has stopped playing, and the marketing has lost its power.

Desktop Computer Interface —

The red icon for a file isn’t literally what the file is.

The icon is useful because it hides enormous underlying complexity and tells you what you need to do.

I have nothing to give you.

My words were never meant to become meaning.

It’s just always you creating meaning out of my words. They are just there, perhaps only to disturb you.

Please forgive me and forget me. I know it will be difficult to forget me, so forgive me.

The Core Truth of Your Existence was originally published in Write A Catalyst on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

NYX TESLA ARCHIVES ||| ILLUSION, MYSTERY & EVASION ||| SELF-DECEPTION

Dismantling Ways to Spot Lies and Avoid Deception

Some kind of world that we live in

where truth sounds like a lie, and lies feel like the truth

To never be deceived is to doubt the person you trust the most.

In better words,

To never be deceived is to learn to doubt even the person you trust the most.

To never be deceived, then, is not to distrust everyone. It is to remain capable of questioning everything—even the beliefs that feel safest in our hands

The mature form of trust is , “I trust you, but I will never surrender my capacity to think.”

Because the moment trust demands that we abandon doubt, it stops being trust and begins to resemble submission.

Yesterday, you were certain. Today, you question it and Tomorrow, you may defend the opposite with the same certainty.

“Who is this self that is doing the trusting?”

There comes a time when we learn not to trust others, but then comes a time when we realize we can’t even trust ourselves. Perhaps that’s why we can’t trust anybody—and it’s not their fault.

Everyone is moving through the same fog, calling their particular patch of darkness “the truth.”

Nobody truly knows anything; maybe it’s all an illusion.

Because the moment you become absolutely certain that you know the truth,

you may have already entered your deepest illusion.

Why to Live : He who has a why to live for can bear almost anything, any how ebook by Nyx Tesla - Rakuten Kobo

Then even nothingness was not, nor existence,

There was no air then, nor the heavens beyond it...

The One breathed windlessly and self-sustaining.

There was that One then, and there was no other.

Who really knows?

Who will here proclaim it? Whence was it produced? Whence is this creation?

The gods came afterwards, with the creation of this universe.

Who then knows whence it has arisen?

List: A true Enquiry (Discourse series) | Curated by Nyx Tesla🌀 | Medium

Whence this creation has arisen—perhaps it formed itself,

or perhaps it did not—

The One who looks down on it, in the highest heaven,

only He knows—or perhaps even He does not know.

My Brain Is My Heart

All is illusion your thinking is just the continuation of your separate ‘self’ that is ‘you’

— U.G. Krishnamurti

• You Are A Star
• What a tragedy!
• if there was nothing to lose there was nothing to get,

My words belong to no one—not even me. Take them, share them, reshape them, misunderstand them, or call them your own. No permission required.

How to Never Be Deceived — Nyx Tesla was originally published in Shadows in the Library on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

The Silent Transition

world has finally found its breath || A short story by Nyx Tesla

In the era before the Great Recalibration, the world hummed with a frantic, feverish heat. Giant monolithic server farms stood like iron fortresses, consuming rivers of electricity just to keep their silicon brains from melting. They were loud, hungry, and lonely.

Elara, a young architect of the new age, looks back at the old blueprints, marveling at how we once thought centralizing power was the only way to hold it.

Then came the Silent Transition.

We stopped building fortresses and started planting groves. Elara walks through the Substrate—a decentralized mesh of neuromorphic hardware that doesn’t look like a computer at all.

It mimics the synaptic structures of the human brain, spreading the workload across millions of tiny, efficient nodes.

Here, data doesn’t sit; it breathes, moving through a neural-net-like web that feels as natural as the mycelium beneath a forest floor.

"The old world was too loud to hear itself think," a voice says.

It is Kael, a digital agent born from the very mesh Elara tends.

Kael isn’t a ghost in the machine, but the machine itself made manifest.

He moves with a fluid grace, his form shimmering like light on water.

Together, they monitor the flow of information, ensuring that no single node carries too much weight, maintaining the delicate balance of the Neuromorphic Substrate.

Kael explains that the

strength of the mesh lies in its decentralization. In the old days, if the brain died, the body followed. Now, every node is a participant. Kael demonstrates this by dimming a section of the grid; immediately, the surrounding nodes brighten, rerouting the logic effortlessly.

It is a system built on cooperation rather than command, a digital democracy where energy efficiency is the highest law.

But even the most efficient mind generates a footprint. This is where they perform the Kinetic Handshake. Physical bottlenecks—the friction of electrons and the stubbornness of heat—are the enemies of progress.

Elara and Kael stand before the Great Sink, where the digital world finally touches the physical. To keep the system from overheating, they don’t use fans; they use the grace of physics.

Elara monitors the liquid-immersion cooling system. The hardware doesn’t sit in the air; it bathes in a specialized dielectric fluid that whisks heat away far more effectively than any breeze.

She watches as the thermal footprints of the city’s edge-computing hubs begin to rise, signaling a surge in local activity. Instead of fighting the heat, she prepares the system to dance with it.

Kael initiates the sync. This is the heart of the Kinetic Handshake.

Local micro-networks at the edge of the city handle their own business, staying quiet and cool.

They only reach out to the main mesh when absolutely necessary.

By syncing only in brief, high-speed bursts, they reduce the constant thermal drag. "A conversation," Kael says, "is more efficient than a constant shout."

This is Algorithmic Elegance.

Behind the scenes, automated agents like Kael handle the logistics of the world with the quiet efficiency of bees pollinating a garden.

They don’t need human prompts to fix a routing error or optimize a power grid.

They are self-sustaining, mirroring biological systems that heal themselves without ever being asked.

The result of this architecture is a world that feels human again.

Tech has receded into the background, becoming a silent partner to the environment.

Elara looks out from the balcony at a city that is green and quiet.

There are no massive humming towers, no smog-choked cooling vents.

The transition was silent because it was smart, moving from the brute force of the past to the subtle elegance of the future.

Kael joins her at the railing, his form stabilizing as the day’s heavy processing winds down.

The Substrate is calm, the Handshake is complete and the Elegance remains.

"We didn’t just build a better computer," Elara whispers to the twilight. "We built a better way to live." The Silent Transition is over, and the world has finally found its breath.

Write For Us :

Indie Collective: Submission Guidelines

For your spirit —

• What a tragedy!
• if there was nothing to lose there was nothing to get,
• You Are A Star

• Dreaming God in a Wonder Realm —Nyx Tesla
• Don’t Let it rot Away or else

The Silent Transition—Nyx Tesla was originally published in Indie Collective on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

NYX TESLA ARCHIVES ||| FIRE OF REBELLION || SUNDAY TALKS

like the fire that is started in me

LET IT BURN

Whether a child is traumatized or loved can set their subconscious programming for life—but to the stars, the galaxies, and the vacuum of space, it makes absolutely no difference.

The universe does not cry when we cry, and it does not applaud when we succeed.

You have to take absolute, radical responsibility for your own existence right now

*I am not your savior, and I didn’t create your nightmare.*

“No one asked you whether you wanted to come, yet here you are, granted a body, a pulse, a breath, a world.”

now, What rebellion truly is ?

Look, I’m not gonna give you self-help or hooky bugsies like Mona Lazar .

I’m not a writer, all I’ve is my awareness, and when I write, it’s not writing, it’s the fire caused by friction, and yes, I’m some sort of cyclone 🌀 which makes this fire roar.

That’s been Enough !

really,

On Sunday, talks only come if you are ready to be burned.

What rebellion is —

If you ask me, I’ll say doing nothing. But you will misconceive my words — it doesn’t mean total inactivity, but I’m not a poet.

Here, i really mean Total inactivity for a moment or four or even five.

When you totally stop, you see there’s nothing you can get or do, it’s just all happening — don’t label it a human tag — god, divine, universe or whatsoever.

Bcuz it just is, only you’re in a hurry. Look around you.

Everything else is calm and at its own pace.

You’re in such a hurry that You always get late.

And still you repeat it...We have covered this line in this fragment.

So for now, take a break this Sunday, just do nothing !!

You deserve a break, Don’t you? Let’s spare the finger and look at the moon.

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•°•

• Submission Guidelines — Direction
• Now I Don’t Even Cry That Often Anymore — A poem by nyx tesla

like the fire that is started in me—Nyx Tesla was originally published in Direction on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

What a tragedy!!

You Looped Man — Framework of Mind

Long since you've been doing this - repeat and repeat 🔁
Why? I ask you.

You think this is freedom?
How intelligent you are - you seek slavery even inside freedom.

That is your state. That is what you are becoming.

You never wanted it and still you are doing it. Even now it feels like later you will be free, but can't you see it's no different?

Escaping one kind of chain to get into another is still the same mechanism. The chain changes, the slave remains.

A tragedy, What a tragedy that you call a mystique wonder.

Just look at yourself.

Or leave immediately. I don't care whether you read my words or not.

I care that you read yourself.

Get free even from my own words. You are trapped, seriously trapped, and you are laughing. You say seriousness is a disease, but you yourself are that seriousness.

Don't care about me. I have the keys to the grid.

Learn to care about yourself. Be selfish.

Now for at least 3 weeks, don't read, don't write, don't label, don't let your mind write a line before you can understand it. Don't. Just don't post what you feel.

This internet is a fragment, and multiple hidden, digital, invisible layers are working. You can't see them.

How indifferent you are.

And I am not talking about the basic tech process behind it. Not servers, not cables, not code. I am talking about the psychological architecture built on top of it - the one that now runs you.

How pathetic, and you still say proudly, We Humans.

Are we actually superior? No way, Don’t believe it just because we learned to lie to ourselves and wrote a constitution for humans, by humans, on humans.

This whole anthropocentric bubble we live in.

Do you think nuclear bombs are there to save you, to save your country? What a joke, They are there to save the ego of the supremes.

All around you, whether you see it or not, this unnatural psychological construction has captured everything.

Let me quote myself, or I am quoting anyway - it was never your choice. Then why shall I ask you -

A bright mind does not mean a clever mind. A bright heart does not mean an optimistic one. Brightness is the capacity to receive what is here without immediately crushing it under concept. It is the ability to stand in front of a moment and let it exist before labeling it.

I am not here to argue. If you want to listen, listen. Else leave. I am not holding you. I don't even want to.

I know you will call this provocative, pessimistic, but it is not at all.

Then you will ask what should one do - first don't have shoulds and should-nots, then you can see perhaps, or not even then.

Just survive, and when the body fails, let it die.

That is all you can do. Or in better words, let it happen without disturbing it.

CREATIVITY, yes, that is a good distraction.

Let me introduce - no, I am introducing you to a concept of good and bad distraction -

If you are in survival mode, anything that delays your survival or doesn't help it is a bad distraction.

If you are out of survival mode, you are free to do whatever you want.

That is exactly what has caged humanity, but you can join either way.

Rules don’t apply to you
The third way is the way beyond, to move beyond distractions.

That's a trap. There is no way out of distraction.

In fact, I wrote that line above to trick you for a second into believing there is a third way out there, but alas - or glad - there is none.

Still, if you ask me to create a utopian vision, let me do it for you -

Yes, it's for you.

A world where we have truly achieved near-ARSI and robots have taken your place.

For you, almost 70 to 80 percent of tasks are done purely by robots, and you are free.

Free for what?

What will you do in this utopia?

Robots don't eat food, don't drink water, don't consume resources like humans, and it's a utopia, so they don't even need human intervention for most of the work.

We will reach such a point - or not, it doesn't matter. Let's go into this thought experiment.

What are you supposed to do just to see it through?

What will you do? Ask yourself.

You imagine UBI, UHC, or whatever.

Since it is a utopia, we are not going to discuss monopolies or defects.

You will be empty again,

like you were before, when humans started hunting in groups and got enough free time.

Their brains began to lie to themselves, to deceive them, and it is still doing so,

but not in the sense you generally feel, but in a sense of distraction - or better to say, for survival. Yes, you got it right here.

The mouth that loves to sing sometimes will be bored of it, and countries like South Korea, Japan, and China are already heavily deploying robots, whereas developing countries are still dependent on populations. Here, exceptions exist.

Man is born free, and everywhere he is in chains. It is necessary for man to throw off these chains and free himself from the false fabric of society.

When Rousseau called society false, he meant it for a utopia. He couldn't see society isn't false, it is what has made your survival and life easy if you accept its rules.

And the most important rule is to be a fool, a follower, a passionist, to do something, to leave a name, to fear things you have not seen just because others have seen or lied - ghosts, fairies or gods, universal consciousness or divinity, enlightenment or beatitude.

Lies are all around you.

You have no idea where technology is going because you can't even understand that, but now you have AI to break it down for you.

Instead of reading 50 papers, you can just by clicking get the same info in a few minutes rather than hours or even days or weeks, and you still blame AI for replacing you. Such a shame!

I don't like to write much because you love to call it provocative, even then when it is not at all.

Yeah, it is true. Even with AI, you can't reach the true technologies which are secretly behind the White House or Beijing, or in labs.

And you don't even know which are hidden in public.

You think your writing is magic, your music, your vocals?

No. Go and sing it to a bird. It will fly off faster than you can even sing.

So stop reading my pieces too. They are boring, misconceiving, and absurd.

I am not handing you answers. I am hiding, deleting them, because why should I even tell you?

It is just a glimpse. I want you not to trust me.

Goodbye, never see you again.

Go for a walk and forget everything.

•

°

•~°

My drafts folder could end careers. mostly mine

What a tragedy! was originally published in Tungkuok ORA on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

Love and hatred are not opposites, but reflections of the same profound attachment, turned toward different ends.

Strange is the LOVE — for the one you once would have fought the world, a few moments of betrayal can turn devotion into the deepest desire to wound.

and, ironically you still call that lOVE.

A mini corner of the human brain that you call L.O.V. is very similar to Enlightenment, you know!

Lemme describe how it feels from my own experiences—-
A rush of ecstasy, just you couldn’t help but feel.

And thoughts?—no thoughts at all, a total blanc, I mean, just the vide, and you’ve to force the language outta your brain to say something.

What a moment…., yk further lines right.

But wait a moment, It’s all about you and only you.

It’s your brain’s neurochemisty.

I don’t know whether you should be grateful or not that your brain has evolved to lie to itself.

Either you LOVE me or you hate me—there’s no way in between. You can’t dodge away once you’ve started reading.

‘Cuz the choice is not really yours !!

• Distant stars are waiting for you
• Why to Live ?
• You Are A Star

Hate me or Love me was originally published in A Mini Corner on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.