There’s a preciousness to what I like to remember as the chat era, the time after the internet came out but before phones, around high school. It was pretty innocent. I have much fonder memories of the internet then; I actually enjoyed going online, unlike now, when I feel immense, deepening repulsion and disgust.
Most of my experiences lately have been read-only, so to speak. Watching movies, reading stuff, even traveling, it’s all scenes flashing by my face. Nothing written, executed. It might be that I just need to have better experiences. More impact, where I change something. I could volunteer. I’ve had it on my list for a long time. It seems like it’s the ultimate thing to do. Then this past weekend, I was walking around Lands End and saw a bunch of people in reflective vests pulling weeds and carrying potted plants around. There was a sign and a clipboard. I watched them a bit, and thought, I don’t want to do any of this.