every time i see a login screen, i feel like absolute shit.

not because i forgot my password, though let’s be real, i probably did but because in 2025, i’m still being asked to prove i exist to a website i’ve visited 94 times. like a dog begging to be let back into its own house.

Identity is contextual and, if we are to live, breathe, and grow, it has to remain contextual. The Internet of the “authentic self” — a loathsome, aberrant idea if there ever was one — is an exercise in slowly getting strangled by your past selves.