…TO WORK AND DIE

We are slowly losing the ability to simply live…

Everything has to be paid for. The house, the water, the electricity, the transport, the land beneath our feet. Even our time has become a commodity.

We traded the simple things too. Memory cards. CDs. Buying something once and knowing it was yours. Watching a video without being funnelled into the next product, the next subscription, the next loan, the next thing designed to keep you spending.

Even music feels different. Less room to breathe. More noise, more competition, more people trying to sell you something before you’ve even finished listening.

And now even access to information and tools can come with a timer.

"“Files, images, and data analysis are unavailable until usage resets at 4:39pm. Continue chatting with text only, or upgrade for more access.”"

ChatGPT

There it is. The entire philosophy in one notification.

The thing exists. I can see it. I can use it. But not right now. Pay more, or wait.

And honestly, I don’t even want much.

I want a good house somewhere at the corner of the world. Maybe somewhere east. A farm behind it. A wife. Two or three children running around. If it has to be a community compound, even better.

That shouldn’t sound like an impossible dream.

Yet somehow, in this subscription life, even that feels far fetched.

We are offered convenience, stability and comfort in exchange for ownership, autonomy and time.

Work. Money. Rent. Bills. Work again.

The question is no longer simply whether we are free.

It is whether we can afford to experience that freedom.

I hate it here.