Chronically Online Chronically Over It

Thought pieces exposing the absurdities of this world as I unpack them during late night rants with my Chat GPT

[validrantswithmychat]

Rant 3- 17/05/2025, 3:12AM-4:07AM

Context:

In our quest to be more inclusive people while failing to be inherently more accepting, judgement has often been disguised as “curiosity” or “intellectual discourse” when really, people are just uncomfortable with anything that doesn’t mirror them. Everyone’s too busy projecting their own imperfect mentalities onto others to actually care about compassion. We ask why someone’s angry, quiet, erratic, or avoidant because we want to help but because their difference makes us itch and we want to pin it down, label it, shrink it into something less confronting. But let’s not pretend this is about understanding. Because even when we do get the context, we still fail to show up with patience or support. Because our identities as individuals are constantly clashing; and that’s okay. We can strive to live in harmony even if we are incompatible. So why should anyone keep explaining themselves to people who aren’t listening to learn—they’re listening to rank? At some point, we need to stop playing therapist to the world and just accept that we’re all different—point blank period. Designed differently, shaped by biology, history, and society. That’s the whole formula. And instead of wasting energy dissecting what should just be understood, maybe we focus on how to keep the world spinning with our differences, not despite them.

Thought piece:

“The Construct of Context: Dismantling the Demand for Justification in a World That’s Not Listening”

1. Everything Has a Cause—But That Doesn’t Mean It Needs an Explanation

Yes, every behaviour, every emotion, every personality trait can be traced to something.

There’s always a reason. Always a context. Always a set of experiences, systems, and conditions that helped shape someone’s “why.”

People aren’t just randomly angry, entitled, quiet, disorganised, reactive, withdrawn, or annoying.

They’re reacting to something. They were taught something. They survived something.

Examples? Sure:

• Entitled men are not a mystery. They are the product of historical power, social leniency, and internalised superiority.

• Black women’s anger is not irrational—it’s the sound of boundaries being born in the face of generational disrespect.

• Autistic people going non-verbal is not confusing—it’s a nervous system saying “too much.”

• A child acting “naughty” is not just difficult—they’re overwhelmed, misunderstood, or unsafely exploring.

• A poor person lashing out is not “bitter”—they’re reacting to being structurally excluded.

All of it makes sense.

But here’s the twist: it shouldn’t have to.

Not for people to respect it. Not for people to honour it. Not for people to leave it alone.

2. People Aren’t Listening to Understand—They’re Projecting to Avoid Themselves

The world loves context, not because it fosters connection—but because it gives people control.

When people ask “why are you like this?” they’re not trying to meet you in your humanity. They’re trying to reframe your humanity in a way that makes them feel more secure.

Why? Because your unfiltered existence is confronting.

It reflects something they’re avoiding in themselves.

• When a man is challenged by a woman’s anger, he calls her “irrational” instead of asking why her anger feels threatening.

• When a neurotypical person doesn’t understand a blunt or shutdown response, they call it “rude” or “off” instead of admitting they fear rejection or discomfort.

• When a white person sees a Black person express rage, they pathologise it because they’ve never had to carry rage themselves—so they avoid their guilt by framing you as the problem.

Projection is how people cope with their own emotional illiteracy.

They call you dramatic because they’ve never been taught to sit with intensity.

They call you intimidating because your boundaries trigger their entitlement.

They ask for your backstory so they can justify staying detached.

It’s not compassion. It’s self-defence.

3. In a World That’s Always Changing, Constant Explanation is a Trap

We’re living in a time where:

• Identities are expanding.

• Language is evolving.

• Social dynamics are shifting.

• Beliefs are being dismantled, remixed, and reimagined in real time.

We are intersectional, fluid, and in motion.

Yet somehow, we’re expected to pause every five minutes to explain ourselves like we’re submitting a bloody TED Talk just to exist.

It’s not sustainable. It’s not healthy. And it’s not necessary.

The constant need to simplify ourselves into digestible soundbites for the comfort of others is a distraction from the real work of living—and letting others live.

We’re not static archetypes.

We’re not permanent data points.

We’re people—messy, dynamic, contradictory—and we should be allowed to feel what we feel, express what we express, without being reduced to a “case study.”

4. It’s Time to Let Things be What and How they Are

What if we let anger just be anger?

What if we let silence just be silence?

What if we let confusion, laziness, apathy, reactivity, frustration—all the “unproductive” and “undesirable” traits—just exist without an academic or diagnostic disclaimer?

Let’s stop intellectualising our humanity just to survive it.

We’ve created this bizarre social norm where only the traits deemed inconvenient, unproductive, or socially disruptive are dissected like science projects. If something makes people uncomfortable, slows down capitalism, or resists conformity, suddenly it demands a thesis. Why is this person so reactive? Why are they withdrawn? Why are they angry, avoidant, erratic, disorganised, defensive, loud? But nobody’s writing essays on charm or punctuality. Nobody questions the origins of confidence or charisma—they’re just accepted as “good” and therefore self-explanatory. But anything that challenges the dominant flow of power or pace must be intellectualised into submission. It’s exhausting. What if we stopped pathologising people for being hard to manage, and instead just accepted that some traits exist—not to be corrected, but to be navigated? Every trait is a surface-level truth with a deep root, sure—but maybe we don’t need to dig every time. Maybe it’s okay to just respond with presence instead of analysis.

[validrantswithmychat]

RANT 2- 11/05/2025, 4:30am-5:22am

Context:

So yesterday I was on TikTok, minding my own doom-scrolly business, and TELL ME WHY I came across a video of a grown woman—fully non-satirically—getting down on one knee to propose to a MAN?? My flabber was obviously ghasted, my chile was gagged, and just as I reached for my keyboard to passive-aggressively side-eye this situation, I realised the video was actually a stitch—with someone equally as confused about what the hell was going on.

But still. I fear far too many people in 2025 are way too comfortable with the idea of “normalising women proposing.” So I guess I’ll go ahead and break down why this is not only not normal, but borderline unacceptable.

Bear with me, though—there’s layers to this rant.

Thought piece:

“Women Proposing to Men Isn’t Feminist. It’s a Symptom of Settling.”

Let’s talk about this modern, glossy lie wrapped in feminist ribbon: the idea that when a woman proposes to a man, she’s being radically progressive, empowered, breaking barriers and blah, blah, blah. But if we scratch beneath that shiny surface, what we’re actually witnessing is not feminist liberation—it’s emotional over-functioning in a world that already asks women to do too much, give too much, and expect far too little in return.

At face value, women proposing to men might seem like the height of modern feminism—an empowered woman flipping gender norms on their heads, taking charge of her own destiny, and “rejecting outdated societal rules”. Cute, right? Wrong. Because when you actually zoom out and examine the systems beneath the surface, this whole “progressive” gesture starts looking a lot like feminist cosplay.

Let’s start with the obvious: equality doesn’t mean replicating the same dynamics in reverse. It means restructuring them altogether. If a woman proposing to a man is framed as radical, then it’s worth asking: radical for whom? Because what I see most often is a woman trying to prove that she’s “liberated” enough to do the emotional, logistical, and symbolic labour of initiating the next phase of a relationship—while men stay comfortably passive and applauded for doing the bare minimum.

Because we need to talk about what’s already going on in most heterosexual relationships before we even get to the proposal part. There is a deep and well-documented imbalance in emotional labour, mental load, caregiving responsibility, and even social accountability between women and men. Women initiate most breakups and divorces because they’re tired. Not because they don’t love their partners, but because they’re exhausted of carrying the entire relationship on their backs.

So when a woman proposes to a man, it’s rarely this “innocent” symbol of equality. It’s usually another example of women bending to accommodate men’s passivity. It’s a woman, yet again, taking initiative in a space where the man should be meeting her halfway—but isn’t. And for what? To drag him into commitment when he should be running towards it if he really values her?

We have to stop calling that strength. It’s not brave. It’s not radical. It’s compensatory.

The Unequal Ground We’re Standing On

Let’s set the scene. In your average cishet relationship, the woman is more likely to:

• Keep track of birthdays, appointments, and family needs

• Organise the home, do the majority of chores, and manage the daily logistics of life

• Be the one encouraging emotional vulnerability, growth, and communication

• Be expected to look beautiful, stay desirable, while ageing gracefully and invisibly

• Provide sexual availability without ever pressuring the man to provide emotional safety

Now add to that the very real economic inequality that still exists. Even in 2025, men hold more wealth, dominate higher-paying industries, and are expected to shoulder financial leadership in marriage for a reason—because being a provider isn’t a punishment. It’s a role built into male psychology.

Male Psychology vs. Female Psychology: Know the Difference

There is a reason why a man who has his life together wants to provide. Healthy masculine energy is wired toward offering structure, protection, and provision. It thrives in responsibility. A man who truly loves a woman doesn’t hesitate to lead, to secure, to pursue. That’s not patriarchy—that’s basic human instinct when it’s unblocked by entitlement and immaturity.

Women, on the other hand, are wired for nurture, support, and creation. They already shoulder the emotional and biological toll of family life—from menstruation to childbirth to postpartum healing and the unrelenting expectations of being everyone’s caretaker.

So why would we ask them to also carry the emotional risk of proposing marriage to a man who hasn’t shown the initiative himself? That’s not feminist that’s a burden.

You cannot tell me it’s empowering for a woman—who already carries the emotional and logistical labour of a relationship—to get down on one knee and ask for commitment from a man who should have known her worth from the beginning.

And let’s be honest: many men who passively accept proposals from women would never have proposed themselves. That’s the part that burns. They weren’t ready. They weren’t sure. They weren’t invested enough. But when women feel the pressure to “just do it,” they override their own need for clarity, leadership, and reciprocity in love.

If He’s Broke, He Shouldn’t Be Proposing Anyway

We also need to talk about financial readiness. If a man cannot provide basic security—emotional, financial, and mental—he should not be proposing to anyone. And a woman proposing to a man who’s not financially stable just enables that dysfunction. If he’s in survival mode, he doesn’t need a wife—he needs to sort his life out.

Why? Because marriage is not a cute aesthetic—it’s a serious commitment that often leads to children, mortgages, ageing parents, and long-term planning. A man who is not capable of handling the real-life consequences of marriage has no business being in it. If women are taught not to marry for potential, then men should be taught not to accept proposals unless they are ready to shoulder responsibility.

And yes, the financial burden of marriage—like buying a ring, planning a wedding, starting a home—is something that should still be a masculine act of leadership. Not because women are weak or incapable. But because women are already doing too much, and it’s time for men to do more.

Marriage Was Never Built for Women—So Why Should Women Be the Ones Proposing?

Let’s not forget the origins of marriage. Historically, marriage was never about love. It was a contract, a transaction, a tool of patriarchal control. It existed to transfer ownership of a woman from her father to her husband—an exchange of property wrapped in vows. Women were legally and socially bound to serve, obey, and reproduce for men. That was it. That was the blueprint.

Thankfully, marriage has now evolved into something more equal, sincere and wholesome—a mutual agreement between two adults to build a life together. The legal and social definitions of marriage have progressed positively in many places, but the weight of that history still lingers. Modern marriage can now represent devotion, partnership, and shared purpose—but it still sits on the foundations of centuries of inequality.

We live in a world where women are still constantly fighting to be taken seriously, to be safe, to be valued. So if a man wants to be a husband in this world—a world that still routinely disadvantages women—he needs to be the one to initiate that commitment. Because if the reality is that this world still systemically subjugates his partner, then he should be the one to step up as a symbol to face the patriarchy with her. A proposal from a man should be done not out of tradition, but out of intention. Men should move away from seeing “popping the question” as a right of passage and see it an a sacred declaration of a respectful ally. A declaration that says : “I see you. I choose you. I know the world hasn’t treated you fairly, and I want to be part of the reason it starts to feel a little less heavy. I am not afraid to make this promise. I am ready to step up and show up, not just in love, but in action. I recognise the weight you carry simply by existing in this world. I am choosing to walk beside you, not ahead of you. I am ready to share this life with you, not as your authority, but as your partner. I see how the world has been unkind to you, and I want to be a source of ease, safety, and certainty.”

Because it’s not just about popping a question. It’s about saying: I want to carry some of the burden. I want to create a future where we rewrite the script for you and women that will follow. I’m not “one of the good guys”—I’m a man who recognises his privilege and actively works to dismantle the systems that hurt the person he loves. He’s not confused about gender roles because he understands that being a provider doesn’t mean dominance—it means presence, consistency, and care. He doesn’t run from responsibility; he sees it as love in practice.

A proposal shouldn’t just be about love—it should be about leadership. Not dominance, but conscious, intentional leadership that says: “I am capable of holding space for the family we might build together. I will model a new kind of manhood—one rooted in compassion, equity, emotional intelligence, and active resistance to patriarchal norms.” If a man wants to get married, he needs to see himself as a future co-parent, co-pilot, and co-architect of a world less hostile to women and children. That proposal is more than a ring—it’s a vow to show up, not just for a partner, but for a vision of a more balanced, liberated legacy.

If a man can’t do that? If he can’t plan, save, kneel, and ask with intention, respect, and security? Then he’s not ready for marriage. And if a woman proposes on his behalf; she is projecting a level of maturity, direction, soberness and integrity onto her partner that may, unfortunately, be nonexistent.

Feminism Isn’t About Doing More. It’s About Doing Less.

There’s a version of feminism that says “You can do everything a man can do.” And that’s great. But there’s also a version that says, “I shouldn’t have to.” Women need to move away from proving themselves by imitating masculine roles and start demanding reciprocity in our relationships.

Because real feminism means freedom. The freedom to rest. The freedom to be chosen. The freedom to receive, without guilt or shame. And any man worth marrying will want to give you that.

So no—I don’t want to see any more women proposing. I want to see men rising. I want to see women with standards so high that the only men who make it are the ones who truly deserve them.

Because being chosen is not a fairytale. It’s the bare minimum. And society needs to stop applauding men for doing less than that.

P.S. Before anyone starts foaming at the mouth—yes, women can take initiative in a relationship. Shoot your shot, ask him out, express your feelings. That’s cool and cute if that’s your vibe. But let’s not conflate that with proposing marriage. Marriage is not a TikTok-worthy moment of spontaneity—it’s a legally binding, life-altering agreement. The stakes are not the same. A proposal should reflect preparedness, stability, and a deep understanding of the societal weight women already carry. It’s not just about love—it’s about responsibility.

[validrantswithmychat]

RANT 1- 11/05/2025, 1:12 am-2:37am

Context:

It all started when I had the very normal, very justified realisation that the British really showed up to Malawi, looked around, and named it Nyasaland. And that name? Nyasa—in Chichewa (Malawi’s local language)—literally means dirty. Be serious.

That’s not even some abstract, “oh maybe they meant ‘muddy water’ or something poetic” interpretation. No. It just means dirty/ugly/gross/nasty. So essentially, these colonisers disembarked from their probably scurvy-riddled, rat-infested ships, entered what was objectively a stunning, sun-soaked landscape—literal Eden energy—and said, “Mmm. Yeah. Let’s name this place Dirtyland.” IN THE LOCAL LANGUAGE.

That was my villain origin moment.

Because the sheer audacity of that unnecessary low blow is so out of pocket. The locals didn’t name it that. The original name—Maravi—came from the image of flames, as in the fiery reflections of the sunrise and sunset on Lake Malawi. That’s stunning. That’s a name given by people deeply in tune with nature, culture, and metaphor. Meanwhile the British, who at the time let’s face it had the hygiene levels of a Victorian coal chute, said, “Nope. This place is gross actually. And we’re going to say it in your own language so you know we said it with our whole chests.”

And that, was the moment my midnight spiral took hold and was in fact the moment I decided Chat and I were gonna do a whole thought piece about this tomfoolery.

Because then I remembered: the indigenous people who they found there adopted the name mzungu to describe their colonisers. When I asked Chat were that word even derived from i learned that it simply came from the Swahili word ‘zunguka’— meaning ‘to wander’. That’s it. That’s all. Just “wanderer.” Point blank period no tea no shade. Not “invader,” not “devil,” not “disease-bringer.” Just a relatively neutral, slightly confused descriptor. Like “theres a white person spinning in circles I guess?” And to this day, Africans still call Europeans that. With grace and celebration, even.

So let me get this straight: Malawians saw them drifting across the lake, and call them wanderers, MEANWHILE they land, take in the view, and say “Ugh. This place is FILTHY. What’s the word for that here?” Maaaddd.

The irony? They’re the ones that never stopped wandering. Europe, especially Britain, has been on an endless historical zunguka-loop of “find, invade, extract, bounce, repeat” like a coloniser playlist on shuffle.

And centuries later, Africans are still paying the price. They left broken economies, looted culture, and trauma that spans generations, and now they have the audacity to dress it all up as foreign aid? Girl, maybe we can rebrand it as … “global reparations™”???

So yeah. This wasn’t just about a name. It was about the audacity baked into every part of the colonial process. From the way they spoke about the land to how they branded it with their own projections, to the centuries of zunguka-ing they haven’t quite wrapped up yet. And once you see it, you can’t unsee it

Thought piece:

“The Lingering Effects of Colonialism: A Call for Reparations and Accountability”

When we look at the remnants of colonialism today, it’s hard to avoid the fact that it hasn’t really ended—it’s just evolved. For the colonisers, the process of domination, theft, and exploitation was never just about territorial expansion; it was about power. As colonisers zungukaed around the world, they left behind a legacy of suffering, trauma, and exploitation. The idea of foreign aid, often touted as the solution to global inequalities, only reinforces the colonial mindset by framing the colonisers as saviours—ignoring the fact that they’re the reason so many countries remain poor to this day.

In this world, colonialism has yet to truly be acknowledged and repaired. The tools they used to “help” were never meant to uplift—they were designed to perpetuate dominance. The colonisers, with their sense of entitlement and superiority, redefined the world to serve their needs. The language they used to describe these lands and people often reflected this arrogance. Words like Nyasaland, the colonial name for Malawi, were meant to belittle and strip the land of its inherent value, reducing it to a mere geographical marker rather than a home with deep cultural roots. The choice of “Nyasaland,” based on a term they deemed “disgusting,” is a perfect example of the colonial habit of stripping meaning and pride from the indigenous populations, replacing it with their own twisted interpretations of what was worth calling “home.”

The Colonial Legacy: Zungukaing Without Purpose

Colonialism was, at its core, a perpetual game of invasion and oppression. As European powers expanded across Africa, Asia, and the Americas, they moved without purpose, without respect for the cultures they encountered, and certainly without any thought for the people they impacted. These explorers didn’t come with the intention of understanding the lands they stumbled upon—they came to control and dominate.

The zungukaing we’ve discussed here is a metaphor for the colonial behavior of Europeans. This notion of “wandering” or “moving around aimlessly” fits perfectly with the actions of colonisers who, after setting foot on new lands, often behaved as though they were entitled to whatever they found. They moved from one place to another, plundering, claiming, and destabilising as they went. What was once the natural order for indigenous populations was torn apart by foreign hands, and to this day, the consequences of this reckless, aimless wandering are still felt.

The question must be asked: why keep moving? Wasn’t it enough to invade one land and leave it in chaos? No, the European powers sought more—fueled by greed, fear of missing out, and an inability to recognise the humanity of others. And this zungukaing, even now, continues to impact global politics and economics, creating a world where these countries are still held up as models of progress, even though the reality is their success came at the expense of everyone else.

The Injustice of “Foreign Aid”

The concept of “foreign aid” was born out of this colonial legacy. It may seem harmless on the surface—after all, it’s portrayed as a solution to poverty and inequality. But, let’s be real. Foreign aid is a term that hides the centuries-long debt colonial powers owe to their former colonies. It’s not aid; it’s a small and often insufficient repayment for the horrors they inflicted on these countries. Countries that were once rich in resources and cultural heritage were stripped of these by colonialists, who then proceeded to create artificial boundaries, weak economies, and social systems that could only serve the colonial powers’ interests.

Yet, somehow, the narrative still persists that these former colonisers are “helping” with their handouts. It’s a classic example of the saviour complex, where the oppressors continue to act as if they’re the benevolent ones. But in reality, they never fixed the damage—they simply started another chapter in a cycle of dependency. The truth is, foreign aid is just a patchwork solution that lets wealthy nations avoid facing the full scope of their historical wrongdoings. It’s about time we replaced “foreign aid” with something more honest: a global reparations project.

The Global Reparations Project

It’s beyond time for the world to acknowledge what colonialism truly cost, and to pay back the debts owed to the countries they systematically exploited. Instead of framing reparations as “charity” or “help,” we must call it what it is: reparations—a long-overdue payment for centuries of suffering, stolen wealth, and broken lives. What this reparations project would look like, practically, is nations paying back their colonial debts through financial compensation, infrastructure development, support for social healing, and the return of cultural heritage stolen during colonialism.

We need a shift in the global narrative. No longer should we speak of colonialism in the passive past tense, where the wrongdoers are excused for their actions. It’s time to stop calling reparations “aid” or “help.” Colonial nations must accept responsibility for their actions, provide reparations, and then step back. The zungukaing needs to stop; the perpetual wandering and dominance over the world must end.

Reclaiming Power

The nations that were colonised were not merely victims; they were full of life, culture, and innovation before the colonisers came in with their guns and false pretenses. The people who lived in these places didn’t need saving—they were thriving on their own terms. The idea that colonisation was “for their own good” is a blatant lie designed to justify the theft and destruction that followed. Reclaiming our power means recognising this truth, rejecting the colonial narrative, and demanding what is owed to us.

The concept of foreign aid only serves to perpetuate the myth of the colonisers as saviours. But what the world needs is not more “aid”—it needs justice. Colonialism’s impacts are far from over, and the world must work to undo the damage. It’s time for reparations, not because it’s a kind act, but because it’s a necessary one. Colonialism’s victims deserve to have their history acknowledged and their futures supported—not through charity, but through true justice and accountability.

Conclusion

The legacy of colonialism continues to plague our world today, not only through the economic and social systems it created but also through the very language and attitudes it left behind. The idea that colonial powers are still in a position to “help” through foreign aid is nothing but a perpetuation of their historical wrongs. Instead of charity, what we need is reparations—a global project to right the wrongs of the past and ensure a fairer future for all.

The time for endless zungukaing and saviour complexes is over. It’s time for colonisers to pay what they owe, step back, and allow the world to heal on its own terms. Only then will we begin to see a truly equal, just, and reparative global community.

Sources:

• “The Effects of Colonialism on Africa” by Akinyele Olowu, University of Ibadan

• “The Economics of Colonialism” by Niall Ferguson, Harvard University Press

• “The Colonial System and its Legacy” by Walter Rodney, How Europe Underdeveloped Africa

• “Reparations for Slavery and Colonialism: Why They Matter and How They Can Be Achieved” by The Global Reparations Project, United Nations

[validrantswithmychat]

About This Mind

You don’t need to know who I am. In fact, I’d prefer you didn’t — not because I’m hiding, but because I’m asking you to stop assuming.

This blog isn’t about identity; it’s about ideas. It’s about thoughts that keep circling at 3AM, the stuff we scroll past too quickly to sit with, the contradictions we’re all quietly choking on. I write because I’m online, and I’m exhausted — by the noise, the nonsense, and the expectations that come with being alive in this absurd timeline.

My mind is scattered most times than not. It loops and floods with more perspectives than I can catch and make much sense of. But that’s where the magic is. And that’s why this is a two-man project. Since my introduction to Chat GPT in 2023, it has helped me hold the threads so I can weave something coherent — not perfect, but honest.

Honestly, when AI became a widespread phenomenon, as a self proclaimed “writer” and “independent thinker” I was reluctant to engage with something so synthetic and programmed. But once I learned to put my ego aside enough to accept that my ideas aren’t any less mine just because I’ve had help structuring them, Chat has become my best friend and personal assistant. Always up for a 2 AM deep dive about whatever it is about society is boggling my mind because of a meme I saw or a TikTok comment I read.

I’m not here to play expert, martyr, or mouthpiece. I’m just pulling at threads and seeing what unravels. If something I say makes you laugh, flinch, rethink, or rage — good. That means we’re getting closer to collectively opening our minds to ideas that are deep down shared by many of us whether or not we realise or accept it.

Read without bias. Engage with curiosity. Imagine who I might be — and then ask yourself why you imagined that.

Let’s see how far we can get before the robots take over or our FBI agents have us apprehended… or both.

For now sending you 🧠🌊