And if you love summer as much as I do for that restless, electric energy it has, and you’re also not quite ready to let it go yet, these are some of my favorite very summer-coded things without which my summer feels slightly incomplete. Nothing groundbreaking, just some of the things that make me feel like I’m actually living through summer, enjoying it, being in it instead of suddenly looking up and realizing it’s over. And exactly what I’m planning to keep doing for the next few warm days, until the weather actually turns and I can finally accept it, let summer go, and move on to the next season. But while it’s still sunny and hot outside, summer continues.

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1. Go for an early morning walk or run. There’s just something different about an early summer morning walk or run. Especially on a day when you know it’s going to be hot later, but you wake up when it’s already light outside and everything is already kind of awake, except the light is still softer, the heat isn’t so unbearable yet, and there’s none of that feeling of urgency like the day is already running away from you. Getting up early and starting the day with a walk or a run somewhere outside, with really good music in your headphones, is just a very specific kind of summer pleasure.

2. Host a dinner. Ideally outside, on a balcony or a patio. And it really doesn’t have to be a whole event. Two or three of your closest friends is enough. Just dinner, a bottle of cold wine, sitting there talking until late at night. The best version is when the conversation just keeps going, everyone is a little tipsy and relaxed, it’s still warm outside, and nobody really wants to go home yet. You talk about absolutely everything. Someone pulls out a deck of tarot cards. Someone starts telling their latest funny dating story. At some point you end up getting nostalgic and talking about old memories you all share. Just one of those really cozy, really good evenings where everyone is having such a nice time that no one wants to be the first person to leave.

3. Let an outdoor day turn into a late night. Just absolutely any activity that starts during the day or early evening and somehow keeps going until late at night. There’s something about summer that makes the days feel longer, like time stretches a little. You don’t want to rush anywhere, but at the same time you want to squeeze as much life out of the day as possible. It can be anything. A picnic in the park. Dinner somewhere with a nice view. An outdoor movie. A beach day that stretches into the evening because no one feels like going home yet. You stay until it starts getting dark, then maybe go for dinner or a glass of wine somewhere, and suddenly it’s late and you’ve been out all day.

Basically just do anything that gives you that feeling of spending the entire day with people you like and then just letting the good part keep going into the evening and eventually late into the night, feeling a bit careless, like you have nowhere to be and nothing waiting for you tomorrow morning. Like nobody has to get up early, nobody has responsibilities, and there’s absolutely no reason to end the night yet. Just letting yourself enjoy the day without rushing it and allowing a good time to last for as long as it wants to.

4. Spend an entire day wandering around. By wandering around I literally mean getting dressed up, going into the city, and having absolutely no plan. Grab a friend. Get coffee, maybe breakfast or just a pastry. Walk around. Pop into random little shops. Look at stationery you absolutely don’t need. Go into a bookstore. Browse clothes. Sit in a park with your coffee. Walk some more. Find another café. Go into another shop. Basically just keep going wherever you feel like going.

In the ideal scenario, somewhere in the middle of all this you make evening plans with someone. You fix your makeup, and by then you’re already a little tired but still excited, and you meet your friends for dinner and drinks. Then you finally get home late at night completely exhausted, but with that very specific feeling that you spent the entire day enjoying yourself, had nowhere in particular to be, did nothing particularly important, and somehow actually lived a whole day.

5. Have a proper beach day. A beach day is mandatory in summer. I don’t make the rules. It doesn’t matter if you go alone with a book and some peaches that you eat messily on the beach, juice running down your hands, everything getting sticky, the pages of your book slightly wet from your fingers. You’re lying in the sun until you feel like you’re about to melt, then you get into the water to cool down, get out, lie back down and go back to your book. The sun is almost unbearable and somehow it also feels so, so good. You just spend the whole day by the water.

Or, if that’s more your thing, go with a big group of friends. Grab some cold drinks, play music, talk, laugh, and just have fun. Whatever version of a beach day you like more. Ideally, do both. But summer just doesn’t feel properly lived without at least a few beach days. And I don’t care if it’s an ocean, a lake, whatever. Even if you live nowhere near the water, I think you just have to find a way to get there at least once during the summer. Make a weekend out of it if you have to. Or just go for one day. One perfect beach day is still better than none.

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Today is just another ordinary day. You’re living your life at an easy pace. No friction. Effortlessly. Smoothly. Everything feels settled. Familiar. Calm. Everything works. At least most of the time.

Then winter ends. Spring arrives. You can feel that stagnant winter energy finally dissolving, and suddenly all you want is to be more in tune with spring. Fresh. Blooming. Alive.

Like that first warm breeze that’s still a little crisp but no longer cold. You feel like waking up again. Like trying new things. Like shedding another layer.

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One warm spring morning, I step out onto my balcony and realize that this is finally it. It’s still cool outside, but it’s one of those mornings when I can actually feel spring in the air. I sit there with my coffee and think “God, I’ve missed this so much”.

So it becomes a little ritual again. The next morning I make my coffee and go out onto the balcony again just to breathe that warm air. Then again.

A few days later I’m looking for tea in my kitchen cabinet when I notice my triphala. I think, damn why haven’t I taken triphala in so long? So I leave it out on the counter. The next morning, while pouring myself my usual cup of warm water, something I’ve started every single morning for years now, I take a spoonful of that bitter powder and wash it down. The next day I do it again. And then again. A few days later I notice that my digestion has improved so much.

Seriously. Why did I stop taking it? How did I forget about it?

So triphala quietly finds its way back into my routine. And along with it come all the other morning supplements I kept forgetting throughout the winter. While I’m making breakfast, there’s already a little bowl waiting for me with my vitamin D, vitamin B12, liver support capsules, and omega 3. A couple of weeks later, that tiny habit has become automatic again. I don’t forget my vitamins anymore.

And honestly, I already feel better.

At the very least because I know I’m taking this one small step to take care of my body. To nurture it. To support it.

The weather gets warmer and I can finally wear little dresses and shorts again. After my shower, instead of quickly throwing on my usual body lotion, I take my time. First I exfoliate. Then I put on lotion. Then a thin layer of body oil.

And oh my God.

My skin feels alive again after winter. Softer. Healthier. Those extra ten minutes of care, instead of just putting on one product and rushing out the door, together with the first sunlight hitting my skin give it this glow that almost looks like it’s coming from somewhere inside.

I love it.

God, I love spring.

I really do. It feels like I suddenly have more energy. More life. Everything that felt so heavy during winter, everything that relied purely on discipline and willpower, suddenly feels easy again. Doing another face mask. A massage. A lymphatic drainage routine. Why not?

Over the past couple of months, ever since I started paying more attention to my workout routine, I’ve been feeling so much better. My resting heart rate has gone down. And for the past couple of weeks I’ve actually been hitting my step goal almost every day. I even lost a few pounds. A nice little bonus. Honestly... it would be nice to lose another one or two. Now it’s already eight in the evening. And I still haven’t hit my step goal today. So I really have to get on the treadmill now.

I’m actually so tired. I’d rather curl up with a book. But maybe I’ll just read while walking... Well. I’ll rest later. I just need to hit my 10000 steps. I was actually planning to do my relaxing evening yoga, too. I’ve been sleeping so well lately after doing it. I feel amazing. But it’s already ten. By the time I finish yoga and take a shower, I won’t make it to bed at my designated bedtime. Which means I won’t get enough hours of sleep. So what should I do? I could just do a shorter yoga session. Take a quick shower. Maybe I’ll still fall asleep on time. Just in case, maybe I should take magnesium. Or maybe melatonin would be better, so I don’t spend too long lying awake. That way I’ll have a better chance of getting enough sleep and feeling good tomorrow.

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A couple of weeks ago I decided to read The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron again. I started doing Morning Pages.The last time I did them was ten years ago.

Jesus.

Like... am I that old?

And honestly, it brings me so much joy now. The first few days were awful. I was so annoyed that I had to sit there for fifteen or twenty minutes writing down all this pointless nonsense that happened to be in my head. But then I actually started enjoying it. I get it now. I genuinely start my day with a much clearer head after I just dump everything onto paper. So now every morning I make sure to set aside those fifteen or twenty minutes because I can actually feel the difference.

Although...

It does make me a little anxious because now I have to find another twenty minutes somewhere. Which means I might not have time for something else. So I try waking up a little earlier. Speeding up the rest of my morning routine. Because I have to write my Morning Pages. I mean... they genuinely help! My ADHD brain gets to dump everything onto paper and suddenly my head feels so much clearer. Well... Unless I start stressing about the fact that I still need to squeeze twenty minutes for Morning Pages into my morning. But I love them. And I have to keep up with all the exercises because I started the book. I committed to the full twelve weeks. If I want to become more creative, I probably just need more discipline.

I need to wake up earlier.

I need to write my Morning Pages.

Today my new book arrived. The second book in a fantasy series that I absolutely loved. I read the first one over a year ago, and I recently found out the second book had finally come out. I was so excited. It was such a comforting book. I’d actually love to reread the first one because I barely remember what happened before starting the second.

But...

I planned to read Steinbeck this month. I read East of Eden in university, and honestly, I don’t even think I finished it. I’m pretty sure I ended up reading a shortened version just to pass the exam. I just can’t read fantasy right now. That’s not serious enough. Fantasy belongs in winter. When the days are short. When you’re tired. When you just want something comforting. But now? It’s almost summer. I feel full of energy! I don’t need a distraction from reality anymore. I can’t justify reading something unserious. Obviously I should be reading something from my intellectually curated TBR. And there’s so little time!

So many books I want to read.

I really can’t waste time reading something meaningless right now. Because I have so much to do!

I need to wake up.

Sit on the balcony.

Get my morning sunlight.

Write my Morning Pages.

Make myself a healthy breakfast.

Take all my supplements because I genuinely feel so much better when my mornings look like this.

Then I need to work out.

Make sure I hit ten thousand steps.

…..

.

Today I’m working from my computer anyway, so I should probably move my laptop next to the treadmill and walk while I work because I most likely won’t have time to go outside. I should also make a protein mousse so I have a healthy snack ready in case I want something sweet later. Then tonight I need to relax with a book. But I also can’t forget evening yoga. And then my shower. And my skincare. And I have to get to bed on time because I’ve been sleeping so well lately and my recovery has been amazing! But the evening is so nice and warm and I would love to go out with my friends and have a glass of cold Pinot Grigio.

And OMFG...

How am I supposed to find time for all of this??

.

And then one morning I don’t have enough time to do my nice, grounding morning routine. The one that makes me feel amazing. The one that sets the tone for my whole day. And I’m freaking out because now I have to choose. Do I do Pilates? Do I do my hair? Or do I just sit down, drink my coffee, smoke my morning cigarette in peace, and let nobody bother me? And that’s when it hits me.

What the fuck.

How did I end up agreeing to become a project??

.

I’ve been here before. How did I end up here again? Again.

And again.

And again.

How did I, as a certified yoga teacher, an Ayurvedic wellness coach, and still someone who genuinely believes she deserves a medal for not giving a fuck

end up falling into the exact same self-improvement trap?

after so much effort to find that ephemeral balance

How did I not notice that all these tiny habits, these little things that genuinely brought me joy and felt so effortless in the beginning, slowly piled up until they became another list of obligations? When did they stop being little additions to my life and become the main event? When did they become exhausting?

How did I cross that line without even noticing? Because it really is such a thin line.

I honestly thought I was past this. I thought I wasn’t the kind of person who sees someone’s perfectly curated life online and immediately starts trying to recreate it. I thought I was no longer that easy to influence. But somehow I influenced myself.

Because every single thing was true. I did feel better. The supplements helped. Morning Pages helped. Walking helped. Yoga helped. Getting more sleep helped.

Everything worked.

And because it worked, I kept adding more. And more. And more. Until one day my life was full of habits.

Routines.

Self care.

Practices.

Protocols.

….

When exactly was that turning point? Where was that last drop between “oh, this would actually be a lovely thing to add to my day.” and every free minute of my life being occupied by some form of self improvement? How did writing little essays about random ideas just because I enjoyed thinking become “I should probably write at least three essays this week.” When did my slow, peaceful mornings, filled with things that genuinely made me happy, turn into this military operation where I have to fit in Pilates, breakfast, supplements, Morning Pages, checking my planner, reviewing my schedule, standing on my vibration plate, taking a shower, doing skincare, styling my hair

all before my day even starts?

And somehow the most ironic part is I genuinely thought I’d never fall into this trap again. I thought I had become incredibly selective about what I allowed into my life. But somewhere inside all that excitement, all that spring energy, all those visible results I fell right back into self optimization. Again.

so thank God I stopped long enough to ask myself one question.

How the fuck did I become a project?

Thanks for reading. Now go enjoy your life.

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It’s 2022, and after the war started in my country, I moved to Austria. A small village next to Innsbruck where my aunt had already been living for around ten years. I arrive there and rent the first floor of a beautiful house belonging to my aunt’s friend. The house is empty. It has a huge backyard, a rose garden, and a cozy swing, and I immediately decide it would be perfect for meditating, reading, and doing yoga.

I’m still trying to process all the shit that happened and how I even ended up here, so I’m fully in nervous-system-regulation mode. So now I’m living in the mountains, with a view of the Alps, a huge beautiful yard, a garden, a patio. And very quickly, I start realizing that this place is unbelievably beautiful. You’re twenty minutes away from Innsbruck and still have all the advantages of city life. It’s a gorgeous city surrounded by mountains, with incredible views and beautiful architecture. But the village where I live is literally on a mountain. A tiny, perfect Alpine dream.

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Within two weeks, I already know a bunch of locals. The adaptation and the shock of such a sudden unplanned move are rough, but not unbearable, because everyone around me is so nice, welcoming, and genuinely trying to make me feel at home. And it doesn’t take long before I notice that people there actually know how to enjoy life.

It’s ten in the morning. I’m sitting outside on the patio near the local supermarket, drinking a ridiculously good coffee that costs two euros, working on my iPad. At the table next to me are these women somewhere in their seventies. And then one of them walks up to me (the same woman I saw two hours earlier carrying a yoga mat home from her morning class while I was taking my son to kindergarten) and asks me for a lighter. I give it to her, and for the next thirty minutes I’m trying to focus on work while secretly watching her and her friend drink espresso after espresso and smoke cigarette after cigarette in the middle of a random Tuesday morning. Later that same day, all those women in their sneakers will hike all the way up the mountain. Footnote: I only ever made it halfway on foot. After that, I took the cable car.

Living there, I realized that people genuinely knew how to enjoy their lives. One random Wednesday, my aunt calls me to tell she and her friends are going to a bar. “A bar?” I ask. “Yes,” she says. “A bar.” Everyone wakes up insanely early there. Some people commute to Innsbruck, some even farther. Waking up at four or five in the morning for work is completely normal. And somehow, that still doesn’t stop the local bar from being packed until three in the morning. Meanwhile, I’m already home by ten p.m., my son asleep, smoking my last evening cigarette outside before going to do my skincare routine. And somewhere across the village, music is blasting, people are singing, laughing, yelling.

That’s when I realize that somewhere between all these wellness trends/healthy lifestyles/slow living/self-care/staying home to “protect your peace,” we lost the art of having fun on a random Wednesday or Thursday night.

I started thinking about my own life or at least what it looked like before the war. Even if we went out for dinner with friends during the week, it was always super serious and curated. One drink max. Everyone home by eleven because people had responsibilities in the morning. Friday and Saturday were maybe acceptable for fun. But Sunday? Sunday was already reserved for mentally preparing for Monday. And I can’t even say I was obsessed with productivity. I didn’t work a strict nine-to-five. I didn’t have some insanely packed schedule. But for years, I’d slowly started putting my sleep, my routines, my “well-being” above spontaneity. Above randomly going out. Above just having fun.

And what surprised me most was that it happened here in this quiet little Alpine village, during some random April, on some random Wednesday night. That’s where I started learning how to live in the moment again. And then I started thinking about how deeply wellness culture actually changed us. When did I become the kind of person who thinks about recovery windows, sleep hygiene, cortisol management, and checks sleep efficiency first thing in the morning? When did I stop being the girl whose first sentence in the morning, when she called a friend, was not “God, I am already tired,” or “I slept amazing,” but “You won’t believe what happened last night”?

Because somewhere inside all this life optimization, we started losing spontaneity, missing moments, opportunities. When was the last time we said yes to a random invitation without a reservation, without plans, without discussing what time everyone’s leaving or who has to wake up early the next morning? Just a simple: “wanna go?” “sure.” And I honestly think the best conversations, the best stories, the deepest talks, the best memories happen exactly when we’re not overprepared. When we spontaneously say yes to some random adventure. When dinner doesn’t end with everyone immediately going home. When the evening accidentally continues somewhere else.

And yes, obviously, I’m not eighteen anymore. There are responsibilities now. My health and my body require more attention. Nights that accidentally turn into mornings don’t pass as painlessly as they used to. But still. After that period of my life, four years ago, I consciously brought spontaneity back into my life. And every single time I want to say: “Ugh, no. It’s already late. I have to wake up early tomorrow.” I stop myself and think: Fuck it. We’re alive once anyway. Let’s make memories. And then I say yes.

Most of my texts are written under the influence of caffeine.
If you’d like to support the next one — you can do it here.

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This spring my mood was as chaotic and unpredictable as the weather in Illinois - one day it’s warm, sunny, perfect, the next - rain, wind, a storm, and suddenly you’re like, wait, do I need my winter coat again? Where did I even put it? So, trying to stay productive and in a good mood through all of that (weather, mood swings, work), I found myself focusing more on small things that actually brought me some kind of joy. Here are some random things I genuinely enjoyed this spring.

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Books. The first book I was completely obsessed with was Drive Your Plow Over the Bones of the Dead by Olga Tokarczuk. The story follows Janina, who lives in a small, remote mountain village. She’s into astrology, deeply connected to nature, reads Blake. And when people in her village start dying in these strange, almost mysterious ways, she’s convinced she knows why - but no one takes her seriously. It was such a beautiful book. Very cozy, a little strange, a little melancholic, sometimes unexpectedly funny. I just enjoyed it so much while reading. And I especially loved that the main character is an older woman. Usually older women in books are either side characters or some kind of cliché. But here she is complex, intelligent, a bit odd, a bit mysterious, very authentic, with strong, with very clear views. Just an incredible book. I loved it so so much.

Also recently I was craving something with more structure - high fantasy, politics, some intrigue, maybe a bit of dystopia. So I picked up The Will of the Many and The Strength of the Few by James Islington. I already wrote a separate post about these and will publish soon because this was a 10/10 for me. Exactly what I wanted, and more.

Then I started Red Rising. And wow, that was intense. I went in without expectations, didn’t read reviews, just the description. Also, I found a really beautiful deluxe edition, so I couldn’t not buy it. Another 10/10. I don’t give that rating often, but this spring was just a lot of them. Also, did you know that Pierce Brown is extremely hot? Like… he looks like that and writes like that? Be serious.

What I loved here was similar to what I loved in The Will of the Many - complex political systems, hierarchy, morally grey characters, difficult choices. But Red Rising felt even more brutal, intense and more packed with events. You can tell it’s just the beginning of a much bigger story, but it already delivers so much! The character development alone in the first book is enough to get you hooked. I’m very excited to continue the series.

Another thing I kept coming back to was Useless Magic by Florence Welch. It’s more of a meditative book for me. A mix of her poetry and lyrics, with beautiful photos, illustrations, handwriting. I kept opening it, reading a few pages at a time, enjoying.

And finally, I finally made myself acquainted with Clarice Lispector and yeah, I get it now. I understand why everyone is obsessed. I read Agua Viva and loved it! Such a strange, beautiful, almost meditative stream of consciousness! You just get pulled into it. It just flows, and you follow. It’s just such a beautiful chaos and there are so many layers in it. I was reading and just thinking what a beautiful things were going on in her head when she was writing, such a poetic thoughts! It’s a very short book, you can read it in one evening, but it’s pure pleasure. Highly recommend

Music. The highlight of this spring was definitely seeing Bad Omens live in Chicago this March. I bought the tickets the second they announced the tour and I genuinely couldn’t wait for it. And it was everything I expected and more. The vocals live are insane! Like goosebumps level incredible. The whole show felt like a completely different level — the energy, the production, the lighting, the sound, everything was just so well done. You could feel how much work went into it.

And Noah’s stage presence… I don’t even know how to describe it. He’s like some fucking god on stage. I still can’t get over it. I’ve been in a full post-concert hangover ever since and I’m already waiting for the next chance to see them live

The past couple of weeks I’ve had The Neighbourhood tour setlist on repeat. I already got tickets for their show next autumn, so I’m kind of tuning into the vibe. I’m not a huge fan, I probably have like ten songs I really love. But I’ve always wanted to hear Sweater Weather and Softcore live, so now I’m going through the newer stuff and the setlist.

Also, in March I discovered a band called LEAP. Their song Exit Signs was on repeat for weeks! There was this perfect moment - warm night, driving home after a really nice date, windows down, music loud, I had two espresso martinis, perfect mood, and I’m sitting in the passenger seat of my own car, which I weirdly loved. (I usually never let anyone drive my car.) I could just relax, just be there, feel the warm air, listen to the music, and enjoy the night and now this song just instantly takes me back to that exact feeling!

Clothes / Beauty. My unexpected favorite this spring was Skims t-shirts. I really love Skims - their bodysuits and long sleeves are basically most of my wardrobe. I have them in every color, different fits, sometimes duplicates (you know how it goes).But for some reason I never tried their t-shirts. And they’re so good! Perfect fit, nice fabric, really comfy, basic item. Now I need more brands that do basics like this with a perfect fit and good quality.

Fragrance. This spring I kept going back to one of my forever favorites - Narcotic Delight by Initio. But I also added two new perfumes to my collection. The first one is Pardon by Nasomatto. I wore it on slightly colder days. It has something in common with Black Afgano, which I love, but it’s more wearable. They share that same deep DNA - almost oily, slightly forbidden edge, a bit dark. While Black Afgano is intense, intoxicating, powerful and very seductive, Pardon is still deep, still complex, but not as overwhelming.

The second one surprised me, because it’s not my usual type - Iris Malikhan by Maison Crivelli. Maison Crivelli is one of my favorites, and Oud Maracuja and Saffron Secret have very quickly taken a permanent spot in my collection. But Iris Malikhan is much different from what I would usually pick, though surprisingly good and interesting. It opens very dry, almost dusty, slightly bitter iris. And then it dries down into this soft, expensive, powdery vanilla with a hint of white chocolate. I didn’t expect to love it this much, but it quickly became my daily spring scent.

Beauty favorites. Lip balm from Nécessaire - saved my lips this spring. Clear, no scent, nice applicator, very hydrating.

Junoco nail oil - nothing special about the formula, but the applicator is amazing! Soft, fluffy and just very satisfying to use

Patrick Ta blush in She’s Seductive - perfect shade for spring and summer. Warm, peachy nude with a bit of pink. Looks very natural but still gives a nice pop of color.

YSL lip blusher in mauve haze - really nice muted mauvy-pink. Very comfortable formula, very subtle (but layers nicely if needed), hydrating, feels amazing - your lips but better.

Movies / Series. This spring I’ve been rewatching Guy Ritchie - The Gentlemen, both the movie and the series. I just love his style. Fast, chaotic, with sharp British humor and great soundtracks. I feel like I needed more dynamic energy in my life, and in terms of cinema Ritchie is just a perfect choice.

YouTube. I discovered Malissa’s YouTube channel few months ago. She talks about books, perfumes, daily life - reading, cooking, walking her dog, going to bookstores and it just gives this calm, cozy, relaxing vibe. I usually watch her videos when I need a break or in the evening with a warm cup of tea. Also - great book recommendations! She has immaculate taste.

Lifestyle. One of my favorite things this spring was finally being able to sit on my balcony with my laptop and enjoy some sun and fresh air while working. Coffee, music in headphones - I missed that so much. Now that it’s getting warmer, I’m finally moving back to favorite cafés, but those first balcony days felt like a small luxury. (Still not the same as espresso and panna cotta in my favorite Italian spot, but I’ll take it.) I also bought a new plant for the balcony. Fingers crossed it survives. Chances are low, but I’ll do my best.

Stationery. Another favorite - my new Hobonichi cover (black, Spy x Family) with an A6 Stalogy notebook. Also Midori A6 notebooks. I love everything about them - the paper, the grid, how flat they lay, very satisfying to write in. And pens - I’ve always been a Muji 0.38 person, but recently I tried Pilot WAAI (friction series), and they’re actually really good - smooth writing, comfortable to hold, and they look cute.

Overall, I’m just happy it’s May and spring finally feels real. The weather is still doing whatever it wants, but it’s warmer now, and life starts to feel a bit sharper again.

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One thing I keep noticing online is how quickly people turn a small difference into a full identity. A taste, a preference, an opinion — and suddenly it becomes proof that they are fundamentally different from everyone else.

Lately it feels like pick-me culture has evolved into a new form. An intellectual one. Or more accurately, pseudo-intellectualism.

People constantly signal what they read, what music they listen to, what movies they watch or refuse to watch, how they dress or don’t dress — not because it’s a natural part of who they are, but because it helps construct a certain image. Especially the image of having better taste.

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So someone says: I don’t read fantasy, I read Nietzsche.
Or: I listen to underground music.
Or: I don’t like movies everyone else likes.

A small difference from mainstream culture suddenly becomes their entire identity.

You can see this especially clearly in what people now call the performative male era. It almost feels like it replacing the whole “toxic aggressive male” archetype.

Now the performative male is different from other men. He carries a tote bag. He sits in a café reading feminist literature. (Actually reading? Or just holding the book? We all know the answer.) He drinks matcha. He wears wired headphones. He performs intellectualism. It’s just another way of saying: I’m not like other men. I’m more refined. More thoughtful. More intellectual. Even if he’s been staring at the same page for twenty minutes without turning it.

People are turning opinions into entire personalities. One single opinion becomes their whole identity.

You open the internet and see posts like this: a girl with beautiful hair writes, “I never blow-dry my hair, I never style it, it’s just naturally this healthy and beautiful.” The subtext is obvious: unlike all of you with your expensive Dyson stylers, I’m different. I’m natural. I don’t need an expensive tool for my hair to look amazing.

Or someone stops doing gel nails and suddenly that becomes a whole announcement. A story. A post. A comment under someone else’s post. Is quitting gel polish really such a life-changing event that the entire internet needs to hear about it?

Or take Taylor Swift. Everyone listens to Taylor Swift. I personally can’t stand her. Yes, I know, how original of me. But I’ve never thought of that as some defining trait of my personality. Why would I walk around telling people I dislike Taylor Swift?

Who the fuck cares?

But online every tiny preference turns into an identity statement. And the question is: why?

Is your identity really so empty that every minor difference has to be broadcast just so people notice that you’re not like everyone else? That you’re somehow smarter, deeper, more unique?

A perfect example of this happened with the release of the new Wuthering Heights adaptation. The film basically split the internet in half. One group loved it and called it another Emerald Fennell masterpiece. The other group immediately started attacking it.

And what exactly were they criticizing?

Suddenly everyone became a literary scholar.Apparently overnight. People started explaining how the film isn’t book-accurate — why Heathcliff should be a person of color, why generational trauma wasn’t portrayed enough.

Others turned into relationship psychologists, explaining that if you liked the movie you clearly need therapy, because the story portrays toxic relationships and obsession.

Then people started critiquing the costumes for not being historically accurate.

But fucking hell — if we’re going to criticize a film, then let’s at least treat it like what it actually is: a piece of art.
And if we’re discussing art, maybe we should start thinking critically first. Maybe watch or read an interview with the director. Maybe understand what the intention actually was.

Because the director and producers explicitly said this isn’t meant to be a literal adaptation. It’s an interpretation. They never intended to make historically accurate costumes. It was a stylistic choice.

So people are criticizing things the creators never even tried to do. Why? Because they have a different opinion and they just have to express it to everyone — even when it clearly lacks any real research.

And somewhere along the way people decided that art can’t just be art anymore. Apparently every film now has to teach us something, educate us, guide our moral behavior.

God forbid a film simply exists to create emotion, atmosphere, beauty.

Art doesn’t exist to teach you how to behave in relationships. It doesn’t exist to explain which men are red flags.

Sometimes we watch something simply for the experience. For the aesthetic. For the emotional depth.

I personally never watched that film thinking, “Oh my god, what a beautiful toxic relationship, I want that.” I saw it as a tragic story that was visually powerful and emotionally intense.

Sometimes art is just art. Not another opportunity to write a think piece about red flags.

So when did everyone suddenly become a psychologist? And when did it become normal to criticize things the creator never even attempted to portray?

Disagreement itself has become a kind of currency online. The fastest way to signal intelligence isn’t to understand something — it’s to reject it. To be the person who didn’t fall for the hype. The one who “saw through it.”

What’s actually happening here isn’t critical thinking. It’s the desire to stand out.

Everyone else loved the film. So now I have to hate it. And I have to say it loudly. Everywhere.

Because that proves I’m different.

Psychology actually explains this pretty well.

One mechanism is social identity theory — the idea that people construct their identity by distinguishing themselves from other groups. It creates a feeling of intellectual superiority.

There’s also the need for uniqueness, which is one of our basic psychological needs. People don’t want to dissolve into the mass. They want to feel different. So they start emphasizing those differences — sometimes artificially.

Another mechanism is identity signaling. People constantly signal to others who they are, what group they belong to, what status they have. And here taste becomes a social marker. Cultural capital. The books you read, the music you listen to, the films you watch.

But when people start carefully curating their tastes and opinions just to appear part of a “higher cultural class,” it becomes ridiculous.

Ironically, this whole attempt to stand out creates a new mass — a mass of pseudo-intellectual pick-mes. Performative intellectuals. Not just men, by the way. Women too, let’s just face it.

Everyone wants to be different, but everyone ends up performing the same curated uniqueness.

And the funniest part is how obvious it becomes. Suddenly everyone is talking about their whimsical lifestyle, their whimsical books, their whimsical outfits. Did everyone just learn the same new word?

So how do you tell the difference between real authenticity and pure performance?

It’s actually pretty simple. People who are genuinely authentic don’t constantly announce their tastes and differences. They read books because they enjoy them. They listen to music because they like it.

They don’t scream to the internet that they’re not like everyone else just because they stopped doing gel polish. They don’t tell others they’re not real fans because they discovered a band later. They don’t mock someone for reading Emily Henry instead of philosophy. They’re not trying to prove they’re different.

And the real question becomes: how do you keep your own authenticity in a world full of carefully curated identities?

Because when something that used to feel natural to you suddenly becomes a trend, it’s easy to lose confidence in your own taste. Easy to feel like you’re drowning in a sea of fake identities.

But we can’t control any of this. We can’t change the trend. We can only decide whether we participate in it or not. The only thing worth remembering is this: the moment difference becomes a performance, it stops being real.

When someone has to shout about how unique they are, that’s usually the first sign that the uniqueness was forced in the first place.

Curious what you think about all of this.
Feel free to share your thoughts in the comments.

Most of my texts are written under the influence of caffeine.
If you’d like to support the next one — you can do it here.

Caffeine contribution

I know you’ve experienced this. You read a book, watch lectures, listen to podcasts, and it feels like you really understand the topic. Everything sounds familiar. You recognize the terms. It feels like you know it. And then, when you try to explain it to someone, you suddenly can’t put two coherent sentences together.

We often end up highly informed but unable to interpret individual facts within any broader context. In the best case, we’re aware that we’re just collecting scattered facts and don’t actually have real understanding behind them — no comprehensive or integrated knowledge of the topic. In the worst case, which is more common, we forget that knowing a fact is not the same as having knowledge.

This is amplified by the fact that we’re exposed to information from everywhere — the internet, YouTube, courses, podcasts, books, social media. Information everywhere. News everywhere. Educational content everywhere. Trends everywhere. Never in history have humans been exposed to this volume of information. And very often, we’re exposed to it even when we don’t choose to be.

Take a recent example: a TV series called Love Story comes out, and suddenly even people who had never heard of Carolyn Bessette-Kennedy recognize her as a style icon. Her look resurfaces, goes viral, and becomes part of the cultural conversation. Even those who don’t care about fashion encounter her images in their feeds. We are constantly, and often involuntarily, exposed to information.

Information itself — and simply consuming it — does not lead to awareness or deep understanding of the world or the subject we’re studying. Instead, it feeds a mass Dunning–Kruger effect. We’ve heard something. We know something. But we don’t know enough to recognize that we don’t truly understand the topic. We pick up separate facts, and it creates the illusion that we know more than we do.

To understand the problem better, it helps to distinguish between two types of knowledge:

Performative knowledge is when we learn something and can repeat it. It’s essentially memory. We might even know professional terminology in a given field, but that doesn’t mean we understand it deeply. We know the facts and can reproduce them. This type of knowledge isn’t bad — it’s often necessary.

But there is also reconstructive knowledge, which is deeper and reflects genuine understanding.

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Reconstructive knowledge means being able to mentally and intellectually reconstruct the path to a conclusion. It’s when you can break a topic down yourself, build arguments, and respond to objections — not just repeat what you memorized. The problem arises when we confuse the first with the second. Because learning is not only about memory — it requires deep processing.

The problem is made worse by the way most information is presented today. What we consume is rarely layered or complex. It’s packaged as bullet points, summaries, structured takeaways, neatly outlined facts. Efficient, clear, easy to digest.

But that format doesn’t create depth. It doesn’t leave space for ambiguity, for tension, for open questions.

And let’s be honest — we often don’t have the time, the patience, or the attention span to read fifty pages of sustained argument or reflection. We prefer concise facts, short summaries, clean structure. And in that process, the topic often loses its depth. It loses its nuance. It loses competing perspectives and uncomfortable arguments.

And this is where it becomes personal for me. I often think about how much information I consume. I’ll decide I want to study one topic more deeply, then another topic catches my attention and the first one fades away. Instead of stopping and going deeper into something that genuinely interests me, my attention shifts again. Even when I consciously dedicate time to learning, I still end up skimming multiple topics, collecting fragments, and moving on.

I hope this text makes you reflect on how you consume information and how you process it. I’m definitely reflecting on it myself right now.

And in the end, I want to offer a simple recommendation that helps me test my own level of understanding. Try writing 5–10 clear, structured sentences on a topic you want to evaluate yourself in — a short mini-essay where you formulate your thoughts in full sentences. The gaps tend to reveal themselves when you try to put ideas into words. You may realize you know less — or more — than you assumed.

Most of these texts are written under the influence of caffeine.
If you’d like to support the next one — you can do it here.

☕ Caffeine contribution