Oct 5, 2025
My notifications haunt me like friendly ghosts. They cheer, they whisper, they guilt-trip.
And yet… I ignore them majestically.
seen from United States
seen from China
seen from South Korea
seen from United States
seen from T1
seen from Singapore
seen from Italy
seen from China
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from China
seen from China
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Australia
seen from United States
seen from China
seen from China
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
My notifications haunt me like friendly ghosts. They cheer, they whisper, they guilt-trip.
And yet… I ignore them majestically.
the typa vibe i bring to the function (＃＞＜)
⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙ ˙ॱ⋅.˳˳.⋅ॱ˙ ˙ॱᐧ.˳˳.⋅
🕯️ Obituary: Rebecca (1981–2025)
Formerly of Clapham. Passed away quietly, with her inbox at zero.
Rebecca was… efficient. She was on time. She colour-coded her calendar.
She spent 11 years in digital marketing and PR, mostly scheduling content for brands she didn’t believe in, attending meetings about tone of voice, and writing emails that said things like “just circling back.”
She lived alone in a rented one-bedroom flat above a nail salon. Her cat, Jasper, died during lockdown. She kept the little collar.
Rebecca commuted an hour each way to an office where she once got an award for "Best Team Energy."
She sometimes dreamed of forests, but never went.
She drank oat flat whites. She believed in hydration.
She was going to start painting again. She never did.
There will be no service. Rebecca’s inbox has been deleted. Her LinkedIn is archived. She is survived by no one.
And that’s fine.
If social media is a costume party, can we wear our real faces?
It’s strange—even on this blog, where I can be a n o n y m o u s, I still find myself thinking about how I come across. I want to be honest, but there’s this subtle pull to craft a version of myself that feels more polished. I catch myself editing my words, curating the vibe of my blog, and choosing the aesthetic that feels just right. It’s not about how I look—more about how I m o v e through the world, the parts of me I show, and the parts I keep to myself.
In a world that’s increasingly filtered through screens, I sometimes wonder how much of myself is actually me. Digital spaces offer this strange power: I can choose how I present myself, how I engage, and what pieces of me I want to share. F r e e d o m comes with it, but so does a quiet uncertainty. Even with all this control, I’m still navigating the same internal landscape. The only difference is that now, it’s through a screen.
These s p a c e s draw me in because they let me express things I might not say out loud—thoughts that feel too complicated or vulnerable in the real world. It’s comforting to know that if someone resonates with me, it’s not because I’ve bared every detail of myself, but because I’ve been honest in the way I’ve chosen to show up.
But even with that, I still hold back. I don’t take photos or videos at concerts or music festivals, even though those are some of my favorite places. To me, those experiences are too pure to be filtered through the lens of social media, turned into something for clout. So, while I show up in digital spaces, there’s still a piece of me that stays off-screen—not because I’m hiding it, but because I want to keep some things just for me.
Maybe that’s the real tension I’m trying to navigate: in a world that asks for curated selves, how do we balance showing up authentically while keeping what’s ours—what’s p r i v a t e—and what’s worth keeping to ourselves?
In the end, it’s about connection, right? I crave that moment when someone truly resonates with me. Maybe that’s what it means to be real: showing up with your imperfections and contradictions, even if they’re left unspoken. It’s not about having everything figured out, but about being willing to explore who you are—digitally or not.
As Kafka once said, “I was ashamed of myself when I realized life was a costume party and I attended with my real face.” Maybe that’s the hardest part—finding the courage to show up as you are, even when everyone else is hiding behind their own masks. In this digital space, maybe showing up with your real face is the truest act of rebellion.
🔒 Telegram Stealth Mode: Come sparire dai radar
Ti senti mai come se internet sapesse un po' troppo di te? Io sì. Specialmente su app come Telegram, dove basta un clic sbagliato per mostrare il proprio numero a migliaia di estranei in un gruppo pubblico.
Non si tratta di avere segreti, si tratta di avere il controllo della propria identità digitale.
Ho scritto una guida pratica per chi vuole essere un fantasma digitale:
Come oscurare numero di telefono Telegram a chiunque (tranne ai tuoi veri amici).
Come creare un Username per chattare senza mai dare il tuo numero.
Il trucco per nascondere ID chiamante e contatti anche durante le chiamate.
Riprenditi il tuo spazio. La tua privacy è un tuo diritto, non un privilegio.
📖 Leggi la guida completa qui.
How to Become a Digital Ghost
What have you been working on? You begin by deleting nothing.You only decide to be gone.That decision, made quietly at three in the morning, is step one.The moment you whisper I no longer wish to be known, the algorithms shiver.1. Withdraw without warningStop feeding the machine your pulse.Let your last post hang there, unfinished, beautiful, a door left ajar.Don’t announce departure. Disappear…
so my job is def getting its money worth out of me lol
"Left on read… forever 👻📱 Seen. Ignored. Eternal. When ghosting becomes a lifestyle 💬✨"
Funny and emotional ghost cartoon illustration featuring a sad ghost holding a smartphone with unread chat bubbles floating around. Below, b
Funny and emotional ghost cartoon illustration featuring a sad ghost holding a smartphone with unread chat bubbles floating around. Below, b