How is it possible that, even in 2025, I still get caught up in the culture of production, where time only feels pleasurable when it results in a product?
It’s easy to understand the whole structure when you look at the capitalist process that makes everyone a part of the machine — but it’s hard to swallow when your mind is conditioned enough not to be fully alienated by social media, yet still too naive to see rest as something genuinely pleasurable.
It feels like a movie scene: the arrival of vacation brings back a feeling similar to what we experienced during the pandemic — a total halt in the process, a deep unease. And yes, it’s new to me that time off has become something so harmful to my own mind. I feel a suffocating silence that comes from facing myself; a brief glance in the mirror is enough to trigger countless questions about what we’re really doing with our time...
I wish I had the freedom to lose myself in the pleasure of simply living, to seek new experiences, not to be trapped in a sense of satisfaction that only comes from work.