In an ever-increasingly connected world, it often feels like we’re becoming more fragmented or disconnected—from others and from ourselves. The digitalization of our experience is both a marvel and a trap. We can accomplish so much more, yet sometimes it feels like we’re losing our sense of self in the process. As I’m writing this, I know that this has already been written and also in this exact manner, and then being reproduced in a type of echo chamber.
I think about this a lot when I catch myself doomscrolling for hours. Three hours can slip by in a haze of Instagram reels, TikToks, and toxic memes, and when I snap out of it, I feel a deep guilt. What did I just do? Where did my time go? In those moments, I don’t even feel like a person—I feel like a zombie consuming content in a state of paralysis.
That realization frightens me. And maybe that’s why I swing to the other extreme: hyper-productivity. I try to pack every moment with purpose, leaning into self-improvement, goal-setting, and creative output. Yet, even here, I find myself burning out. My feeds are full of productivity hacks and motivational reels, but instead of inspiring me, they’ve become overwhelming. I’m sick of them.
The Tension Between Productivity and Presence
This constant tension—between being “productive” and being “present”—is a defining feature of living in the age of AI and social media. On one hand, AI offers tools that amplify our capabilities, like helping us brainstorm ideas, edit writing, or manage time more effectively. On the other hand, it’s also part of the digital ecosystem that makes it easy to lose ourselves.
Take writing, for example. Using AI to write blog posts feels almost like having a creative partner. It’s a strange loop: the writing process teaches me something, even as I’m teaching myself. The act becomes reflective and iterative. It’s exciting, yes, but also humbling. With AI, I can experiment in ways I never imagined—like having it summarize my notes or structure my ideas in ways I can’t quite articulate on my own.
But there’s also a danger. The more I lean on AI or digital tools, the more I risk losing my own voice or sense of purpose. Am I creating because I want to, or because I feel pressured to stay relevant in a world that demands constant output?
This is where the digitalization of our lives hits hardest. The constant exposure to curated content—perfectly edited reels, aesthetically pleasing productivity spreads, influencers who seem to have it all together—can make us feel inadequate. When I spend too much time online, I sometimes feel like I’m not even living my own life. Instead, I’m performing a version of myself that aligns with what I think others want to see.
And isn’t that what frightens us most about AI? Not just that it can imitate us, but that we are, in some ways, starting to imitate it. Our mannerisms, our thinking, and even our interactions are becoming more automated, more transactional. The deeper I dive into this thought, the more philosophical it becomes: Why are we even here? What is the purpose of living in the age of AI?
I ask myself this a lot. If AI and automation can handle so much of what we do, why do we still feel compelled to do anything at all? Why not just sit back, enjoy food, memes, and reels, and exist? Why not reject the pressure to create, to market, to achieve?
Being a Sudden Human Again
The answer, for me, lies somewhere in the joy of being human. Productivity and creativity, when done for the right reasons, can be fulfilling. But so can the simple, spontaneous moments of life—the ones that don’t need to be optimized or shared online.
Not every blog post needs to serve a market. Not every idea needs to be targeted toward a specific audience. Sometimes, I just want to write for the sake of writing, to let my thoughts flow in an unfiltered stream of consciousness. This kind of writing feels freeing because it doesn’t have to carry the weight of expectations.
It’s the same with life. A good user experience, whether in a product or in our own existence, isn’t about constantly optimizing everything. It’s about creating enough space to live freely, without discontent. It’s about anticipating needs and emotions before they arise, like a product that feels psychic in its ability to understand me.
Reclaiming Space for Creativity
That’s what excites me about living in this moment: the intersection of creativity, technology, and being human. Yes, doomscrolling can leave me feeling empty, and hyper-productivity can leave me drained. But somewhere between the two is a balance—a space where I can create, explore, and just be.
This is why I think AI has potential beyond productivity. It can help us reclaim that space. When I use AI to write, I’m not just offloading the work—I’m collaborating. I’m experimenting. And maybe that’s the kind of relationship we need to have with technology: one where it complements us, rather than consumes us.
But here’s the catch: I don’t think most people care about how things are made. They just want to experience them and move on. It’s not about the process; it’s about the outcome. And that’s okay. For me, creating is as much about the journey as the destination.
Finding Freedom in Small Steps
One thing I’ve learned is that creativity doesn’t have to be a monumental task. It can be something you chip away at, little by little. The same applies to self-improvement. Watching endless reels about productivity won’t make you more productive—but taking one small step toward your goals will.
Maybe that’s the key to living in the age of AI: embracing the small, meaningful moments. Allowing ourselves to be human, to be imperfect, to find joy in the process rather than the product.
Because at the end of the day, the purpose of life isn’t to optimize it. It’s to live it.
This is where I’ll leave my thoughts for now. Who knows—maybe someday in the future, I’ll revisit this post, armed with new insights, and see it in a completely different light. And maybe I’ll ask AI to summarize it, refine it, or even challenge me on the things I thought I knew.
For now, though, I’ll leave this as it is: a snapshot of my stream of consciousness, a reflection on creativity and connection, and a reminder to live freely in a world that often feels anything but.
To be clear, I would never publish my real stream of consciousness. This indeed was edited by AI LOL.