I just got offline, I kept on watching videos about the news, trying to understand what I should be feeling; frustration, irritation, sadness and anger, not a hint of love left in this world. I turn on the radio, listen to people talking about the economy and work. I started reading Clarice Lispector again, I don't feel as moved as I used to in my twenties. Perhaps I evolved, or got duller? Whichever it is, I need to know, so I keep on turning the pages. 

 I turn on Qobuz, a music streaming service that Chatgpt recommended me when I asked for a music streaming service with the best sound quality. I turn the plug into my all-in-one record/cd/cassette player, it sounded dull. "It's the filter." I think. "What filter?" I don't know, the soul is lost in translation. It happens all the time. Perhaps the people who are streaming the music do not know the true value of the songs. 

 Just like the newer versions of translation of Clarice Lispector, however refined they claim to be, feel muddled. It's not the words that are hard to translate, you've got the dictionary, AI, millions of tools to translate it ; you need to have the sensibilities to smell the words, the breath, and the soul. Once it’s put on to a platform that treats anything like everything else, the soul slips away, and never captures what is essential. The moment is lost. It's like hearing Elliott Smith in a chain store that sells mass-produced cheap white wine and pasta that never rots. 

 Don't get me wrong, I am OK with it; with the cheap white wine and pasta that never rots. I am not looking for finer little things that give me pleasure. I just need to have a grasp on reality, and dislike the feeling of it evading me. Soulless music disorients me, and the mistranslation of literature nullifies my sensibilities.  YouTube is better because it doesn't pretend to be what it is not. It’s like buying a bag of chips, knowing it’s not good for you; that's what I asked for and that's what I get. The clarity of consumerism. 

Instagram used to sicken me, so did twitter, (or X )  I just felt like paying attention to it was intoxicating because they were filled with the smell of ego. Wherever I went, I had to feed myself with egocentric information that sought attention. 

"Who the. fuck cares?" 

And that was it, we don't really care about anything these days. Not caring is the only strategy to survive.  Look at the president of the United States (or is it about time we call it the Divided States?)  Does he seem to care? That his incompetency is killing innocent people? And some people (still) treat it as if it were strength. His dullness. He blasts a huge fart, fails to smell it, and tells the people to stop complaining, and the bootlickers applaud it, calling it "An award winning odor of the century." What madness.

 I am rereading Clarice to retain my sanity. Not everything is egocentric, and there are people who sought the truth. That alone is worth paying attention to.