Self-initiated critical project.
You scroll an infinite feed. Remember when the feed had an end? You’d reach it, feel empty, and move on. Now it scrolls forever. Doom after doom, meme after meme, war after outfit check, a drone strike between two influencer updates. You double tap.
What even is real? Can you tell anymore? What does “real” even mean, when real people are quoting fake accounts run by real governments for fake causes with real consequences?
Are your beliefs yours? Or were they served to you, warmed up by the algorithm, glazed in relatability, and presented as “just common sense”? You don’t notice the shift — you just “agree”.
Your feed is curated by a machine trained on millions of versions of you. It knows your fear better than your mother. It knows when to show you horror. When to distract you with nostalgia. When to remind you of your body, your failure, your cravings.
You live inside a content loop, produced by corporations, managed by platforms, manipulated by governments, and shared by your friends. You’re the product, the audience, the amplifier.
Barbara Kruger once said “Your body is a battleground.”
Today, your feed is too.
While you doomscroll, populist clowns win elections. While you send brainrot reels to your friends, wars happen in the background. Somewhere, a teenager posts a meme. Somewhere else, a parliament falls.
The algorithm thinks you’ll like both.