L O A D I N G. . .
🔄 Economies wobble, democracies teeter, and the planet cries—yet we remain stuck in a collective 'loading' screen. We’re aware. We’re waiting. But who’s clicking 'start'?
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🍎 ADAM (FROM EDEN) 🍎
I kept walking out of that round, iridescent portal and straight into the rain.
I kept walking and walking until there was not one light left on the main road. 𓄿
There was one bloke who passed by, but he did not look up or look me in the eyes.
It was as if time was standing still as the rain poured, and I felt I had believed a lie.
They told me if I remained wholly invested in my success, I could become the best.
But, the best does not exist, particularly when we insist on it and forget to rest.
Yes, sacred rest – It has escaped us as we move deeper and deeper into the matrix. 𓋹
Laissez-faire economy – It has consumed us and put wealth as the plaintiff against it.
The rain never stopped, but the sun began to come up this long empty road.
My boots were covered in mud, but I needed to make sense of what I had been told.
I kept walking out of that round, iridescent portal and straight into the rain.
I kept walking and walking until there was no doubt about the meaning of my name. 𓂀
I hopped on a direct flight to New York City (already a contributor to the climate crisis, but I digress), and prepared myself for the American-way, the way that is most familiar to me even after all these years building my life away.
I cannot escape where I am from and I cannot ignore the people I love.
Surrounded by familiar faces, and reminded of a comfortable and prestigious way of living, I relaxed in Southampton. It was the unplug I needed, seated on a pool chair next to dear friends on sacred Native American soil.
Poetry came flowing out of me and my inner peace dropped down like an anchor, but I could not help to think of the children in P4l3stin3 or my friend visiting her mother in Ukr4!n3.
I tried to broach the topic with a friend who feels like family.
“Well, we’ve always been the winner,” she said.
I took in the comment for a moment.
“Well, that sounds like American narcissism,” I replied, gently and evenly.
Noticing a shift in her demeanor, I continued.
“I’m not calling you a narcissist. But yes, I am referencing the term coined by Christopher Lasch in 1979. He claims it is a distinct form of personality prevalent in the United States since the end of WWII.”
She seemed to relax, more open now, and able to hear what I was saying.
I felt calmer too, though still confused about whether there really is such a thing as winning when it comes to killing, pillaging, and war.
I felt joy to be around people who know and understand me, year after year, but felt curious and even suddenly apprehensive about the ‘alternative’ life I’ve built abroad.
I mean, I am a traditional woman with traditional values, but to choose a town (much less a country) away from the hometown and rhythm everyone grew up in is as alternative as it gets.
We continued onward to late nights on familiar porches, and next-level gossip about the people closest to them.
In my everyday life, I try to live by, “Never explain. Never complain.” So, I was a silent observer, taking in the sweet smell of fresh cut lawns and the seductive sea breeze on my skin. I felt peaceful because my joy comes from within.
Amongst endless space, wealth, familiarity, and bliss, something’s amiss.
Economies wobble, democracies teeter, and the planet cries yet we remain stuck in a collective loading screen.
We’re aware. We’re waiting. But who’s clicking start?
In July 2025 alone, we’ve witnessed staggering signals of breakdown.
Wildfires in Canada and the Mediterranean have displaced tens of thousands, pushing already-burdened infrastructures past their limits.
Tsunami warnings across global coastal areas, as Northern Russia is devastated first.
The heat dome sweeping across southern Asia has killed hundreds in Pakistan and India, while U.S. farm states battle both drought and floods, sometimes within the same week.
Climate scientists no longer speak in warnings, but in obituaries.
Global markets jitter under the weight of persistent inflation, AI disruption / race, and looming trade rifts between China, the EU, and the U.S.
In the U.S., a presidential race that was once unimaginable is now reality, and the stakes feel even less symbolic and more existential.
The recent U.S. Supreme Court ruling weakening federal oversight of elections has triggered alarm among legal scholars, but barely moved public consciousness beyond a few viral clips.
A recent UN report reveals that over 1 billion Africans (around two‑thirds of the population) cannot afford a healthy diet. Conflict zones (like Sudan), climate shocks, economic instability, and poor agricultural development are exacerbating the crisis.
In the UK, youth turnout has surged, but mostly in protest, not participation.
And more. . .
And yet the world scrolls. We scroll. A post, a protest, a push notification, then back to business as usual. Loading. . .
The democratic process isn’t broken overnight. It erodes, quietly, procedurally. Loading. . .
Meanwhile, economic anxiety has become the background noise to every conversation, every decision, for some. . .while a wealthy few carry on, booking weekend trips to far off islands. Loading. . .
We applaud identity fusion and the ability to take revenge. Our identity is so blurred, but it is easier to walk through a mist of delirium, instead of facing the shame and moving past it with dignity. Loading. . .
We subscribe to “norms” without thinking “is this what I want?” “what do I believe in” “how does this affect others?” Loading. . .
According to Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs, a psychological theory developed by Abraham Maslow in 1943, people are motivated to fulfill their most basic needs first before moving up to more complex ones.
It’s often shown as a pyramid with five levels, each representing different human needs.
I assume as more and more people have less needs met, the global crisis will begin to feel more and more like an existential threat.
But are we waiting for that sad tipping point? What are we waiting for? Resolution? Leadership? A break in the tension before we act?
In an age where we are more informed than ever—about climate, corruption, inequality, gen0c!d3, extinction—we are somehow less mobilized. Not apathetic, but overwhelmed. Over-informed. Numb. Tired.
"Loading. . ." used to mean something was coming. That the screen would shift, that the story would continue. But now, it feels like a stall. A loop.
The danger isn’t just what's coming. It’s that we’ve normalized this state of suspension.
And no one seems ready—or willing—to click the moral, radical, and egalitarian start button.
The thing is, in a democracy, our power lies in our vote. We choose who makes the decisions, and at this point, we have a long road ahead with little chance for turning back.
I know there’s no point in focusing on what we cannot change, and Epictetus would agree.
“The chief task in life is simply this: to identify and separate matters so that I can say clearly to myself which are externals not under my control, and which have to do with the choices I actually control. Where then do I look for good and evil? Not to uncontrollable externals, but within myself to the choices that are my own . . .”
—Epictetus, Discourses, 2.5.4–5
But, I would be wrong to not acknowledge it and ask you, what do you think we can do? What lies ahead? Leave your thoughts in the comments.