You’ve probably seen this somewhere on social media, perhaps like me, a lot more recently.

In most cases, I’ve seen it used as a caption for funny and/or embarrassing clips where people are doing random—usually weird—things in their homes, and y’know, the comments are eating it up, and maybe you’re even laughing at it.

In other cases, it’s quite horrific.

Those cases where the guy next door who seems really “x” is actually “y”, or the “x” old lady down the street was actually “y” all along, and nobody had a clue.

I’m really into psychology and people-reading, but not every person out there can even read people, and even for those who can, how much can you really know?

I think the very first time this concept dawned on me was when I learned how babies were made.

I mean, you expect me to believe that every dad, mom, or pregnant woman did the deed? I started to see these people in a different light for a while.

It was a crazy epiphany to me back then, but y’know… It’s normal now.

It’s also quite weird that the very first time this occurred to me was when I learned the concept of reproduction.

As I grew older, I saw other examples of this;

People who lost family members and said nothing about it.
People who couldn’t see any reason to continue living, but kept cheering others on.
People who lost their sources of income and kept footing bills with no complaints.
People who laugh the most but actually feel totally dead inside.

The list is endless, really.

I look at people, and the first thing that comes to mind is “this could all be a facade”, and I try to microanalyze everything they do or say in a bid to find out what they actually need instead of interacting with the facade of normalcy they’re putting on.

It’s not always a success, but I stay very observant—until my mind wanders off and I forget (which actually happens a lot).

Where am I going with all this?

The whole reason this piece exists is that I’m afraid.

I’m very afraid of how easily most people can hide entire realities from basically anyone.

I’m afraid of the fact that the people I’ve known all my life may have only revealed a filtered or tailored aspect of themselves to me.

I’m afraid that I most likely have crafted the people I love by the things I’ve observed about them and not necessarily who they are.

I’m afraid that my desire to truly understand people—to see beneath the surface—will continue to exhaust me, because people are very complex, and in many cases, overanalyzing people sucks the fun out of interacting with them.

But more than anything else, ruminating on this really reveals how much of a risk “trust” can be. That genuinely scares me.

Till next time, human :)

(sigh)

‎Time, the cruel teacher.
‎Signs, the wound peeler.
‎Plight, that digs deeper.
‎Love, the heart eater.
‎
‎Time, the cruel teacher.
‎Fate, your unfair Kingsman.
‎Raise hopes that wither.
‎I was only human.
‎
‎Time, the cruel teacher.
‎Up today, down the next season.
‎I tried to play, but I got beaten.
‎Stubborn grit, for no reason.
‎
‎Time, the cruel teacher.
‎Hearts of love and joyful whispers.
‎Become dungeons with broken cisterns.
‎The persistent become jesters.
‎
‎Time, the cruel teacher.
‎Signs, the wound peeler.
‎Plight, that digs deeper.
‎Love, the heart eater.
‎
‎Time, the cruel teacher.
‎Fate, your unfair Kingsman.
‎Raise hopes that wither.
‎I was only human.

I spent the past week building more structure around the things that currently occupy my time.

I realized during the week that, recently, most of my hours have gone by without me even knowing, and almost none of those hours have been used to create or do stuff I genuinely enjoy, so I had to put my foot down and build constraints around the things that were eating away at my time and energy.

I’ve got some passion projects to roll out. Quite a lot of them, actually.

I’ve been making progress in my side quest to get comfortable with posting my face and not just my alien logo (I tend to find microscopic reasons not to post or even keep images of myself).

I also haven’t read much recently. I think it’s affecting the way I write to an extent, or maybe my mind is just foggy, or both.

Regardless, I’m optimistic about everything I care about.

Last week, I also hit 100 subscribers here.

I was at a work meeting when I got the email.

I kept staring at it as I was stuck in traffic for over two hours.

It’s a major highlight of the week.

So far, I’ve just come here and spilled my thoughts, and somehow, that was enough to make ONE HUNDRED of you decide to stick around for more of whatever this is.

I appreciate it.

I appreciate every single one of you for being here, and if we haven’t already met, I’d really love to meet you, so if you do not mind, please do a little intro in the comments.

I still have a lot to talk about, but this will have to do for today.

Till next time, human :)

‎I see it now.
‎I see why my love and care couldn't keep you around.
‎I see why I failed at all attempts to build our home.
‎I thought bad luck was the reason, so I fought to keep you.
‎
‎I see it now.
‎It makes sense that you walked away.
‎I get why I was hanging on, but still got pushed away.
‎I get why I was all you wanted, but you left again.
‎
‎I see it now.
‎All I ever wanted was to make you my Queen.
‎Depressed, concerned, distressed you'd think of leaving me.
‎I paid no mind to the fact that you belittled my dreams.
‎
‎I see it now.
‎I could never have kept you without losing me.
‎You don't belong with me; you don't even have dreams.
‎I'm crafting universes, and you... Well, we both know, don't we?
‎

Till next time, human :)

This piece is me just trying as hard as I can to maintain my weekly publishing schedule even though I’m supposed to be completely knocked out on my bed at this point.

So, if this doesn’t seem orderly or even coherent, that’s why.

It really is a weird life I live.

It sometimes amazes me how quickly I change my opinions, ideas, and all the other things in between.

* * *
Wait, that’s unrelated. How do I start this whole thing again?

* * *

Well, first of all, I am very VERY tired.

I’m exhausted, in all instances of the word.

Why, you ask?

I’m busy. Too busy.

For my personal projects, my art, my friends, family, anybody and anything at all.

You’re probably wondering how I got here, and you’re right to wonder.

You see, it all started with an experiment.

I’ve been panicking since June about the fact that my age now starts with a “2”, and I know most people say “Oh, you’re still young; what are you worried about?”, but I’ve been in this whole game for quite a while now.

Some say it means I grew up too fast, and others say I take myself too seriously. I argue that I just don’t like being unprepared for stuff. Which I think is a good enough reason to panic.

I feel like I’ve strayed from the point of this piece again.

You see, for the past few years, I’ve worked remotely, across quite a few industries. Y’know, from the comfort of my home.

Recently, though, most of these opportunities were halted, some suspended, and several others became overcrowded.

So, I took a break from these spaces and went on what I can only define as a self-discovery spree.

I learned more about myself, discovered new things about me that I fell in love with, and reassessed my entire life.

In that period, I also created this very precious publication of mine, and it’s been fun.

So, one random Thursday, as I was working on a piece (still in my drafts to this day), I figured I had lost count of the things I’ve done, people and brands I’ve worked with, and my “professional” experience in its entirety.

That was when I actually found out what a CV is.

I had never created one before. I just reached out to clients with a pitch, sent samples of my work, got hired (or rejected), and stacked referrals from satisfied clients.

It was pretty easy. Y’know, do the work, get paid, repeat.

So I sat down to create my CV, and let’s just say even though most of my work experience was confidential, it was a lot of experience.

I then took it a step further. I decided to run an experiment.

Since I’m still not done with school yet, I thought: let’s see if my CV can land me a good, remote job in a Nigerian-based company.

That right there was the thing that started… all this.

I started by learning how to write emails properly, because I’ve always been very cautious about writing emails.

Not the structure, not the usual stuff. The things that could make an email pull strings. Y’know, just enough to be confident about sending and responding to them.

So I started sending.

The very next day, I got an invitation for an interview, but it was in person.

The last time I was at an interview was when I was 16, trying to land a job as a Math and Physics teacher in a senior secondary school (which I actually landed, but that’s a story for another… sane day).

Regarding the interview, I’ll spare you the details.

I attended, got a callback, but they wanted me to show up three times a week, which wouldn’t work for me, so I declined.

I got a few more invites, declined some, and I attended others, till I landed one.

Experiment successful. Yay!

…or so I thought.

It didn’t take long before the reality of the whole thing dawned on me.

I was doing a lot more than I was doing before I took the break earlier this year.

I’m now running a Substack publication, diving into script & screenwriting, getting good at motion design and animation, studying marketing and psychology, working out more regularly, trying to get at least eight hours of sleep each night/morning/afternoon, learning illustration, trading, reading, and all the other stuff I can’t remember right now.

Going back into the professional world, that too, with a company based in Nigeria, wasn’t going to be an easy task.

What have I done?

Please don’t get me wrong. I love my work, and I love getting paid, but when I’m handling too many things and every single one of those things is important to me, prioritization and balance aren’t so easy to achieve.

Somehow, I feel like a superhero, living a double life, like Spider-Man.

I do my work stuff, and then head back into my cave to build TheCreativeVic and chase my personal wins.

The fact that I enjoy all these things doesn’t change the fact that I’m exhausted by them.

I mean, it’s a privilege to be exhausted by the things you actively choose to do.

There’s really no big payoff or profound lesson here.

Even if there were, I’m too drowsy to remember right now.

What I can say for sure is that my experiment was successful. I’ve racked up quite a lot of professional experience over the years.

Who knows? Maybe my next experiment will be finding ways to make my life less exhausting and more fun.

That will be all for now.

Till next time, human :)

I'm reaching for more.
‎Not due to desperation,
‎but for genuine adventure.
‎A desire to impact.
‎
‎I'm reaching for more.
‎'cause I'm at peace with myself.
‎So, I want to create,
‎to share pieces of myself.
‎
‎I'm reaching for more.
‎But now my reasons are strong,
‎and now my path isn't wrong
‎because my mind isn't blurred.
‎
‎I'm reaching for more.
‎So I can take all my love,
‎and give it all to a cause
‎that's bigger than myself.
‎

Till next time, human :)

Hello, human :)

So far, we’ve had some really interesting conversations.

Up until now, though, our minds have only been interacting through words, but you’ve hung around, which means you appreciate this very long conversation despite knowing very little about the guy on the other end of it (me).

Interestingly, that’s about to change… albeit just a bit.

I had so many ideas for this piece.

I thought, “Why not do one of those 20 things about me essays you’ve been seeing around? Or maybe we could do a 20-line poem, or maybe drop 20 new essays? or…”

I decided to ditch the planning phase and just type away at my laptop till I formed something that looked like it made sense, and that gave you this piece.

So… here goes nothing.

20 Things about TheCreativeVic.

1. I’m Victor (TheCreativeVic).

2. I’m mostly known for being a really good designer.

3. I was a ghostwriter for fiction books for over 2 years. I’ve also written marketing & technical pieces for brands for 2+ years now, and I’ve got 5+ years of copywriting experience, among many other things.

4. I’m a polymath.

5. I’m a first-born.

6. I absolutely love and enjoy cooking.

7. I’m a die-hard Raver (been a Rema fan since 2019).

8. I’m a shy person around most people, but I talk a lot when I’m comfortable with someone.

9. I enjoy solving puzzles and anything that requires strategy.

10. I really love literature.

11. I’m a final-year Computer Science & Software Engineering student.

12. I love Spider-Man.

13. I’m half Yoruba and half Igbo. I can understand both languages to a pretty good extent (more than I let on).

14. I can’t speak any other language fluently. Not even pidgin, but I try.

15. I used to sketch and paint a lot when I was younger, but I don’t do it anymore (I’m relearning though).

16. 99% of my friends are older than me.

17. “The Creative Vic” was something a friend used to tease me with in 2023.

18. I’m a very curious person.

19. I’ve learned so many things that I sometimes forget I know how to do some things until something just triggers it.

20. I’m 20 years old today, the 20th of September, and this is the one time this’ll ever happen. Hehe :)

Now, there are a few things I learned at 19 that I intend to not just know but also live by henceforth. I thought I'd also share them here, so here you go:

1. Execute everything with urgency (unless it's a crime).

2. Give yourself time to be bored.

3. Always aim to create imperfect sculptures you can finish later. Stop aiming for perfect pieces right off the bat.

4. Always finish every project you've started (unless there’s a strong, dangerous reason not to continue).

5. Write for 30 minutes every day. It'll help you listen to yourself and understand yourself better.

6. If you find yourself confused or trying to figure out what you need to do, the solution is mostly: do the raw, unappraised work in private or in public (if it’s content-related).

7. Stack reps/attempts and set goals based on failures, not wins. The more reps and failures you gather, the more wins will stack too.

8. Take risks. You're the only you, so your own direct experience is the most accurate data you can collect.

9. Respect yourself, and actually show yourself you do.

10. Create (memories, artworks, content, relationships) as much as possible as soon as possible. You only live once.

I want to thank all my subscribers and followers for hitting those buttons on my profile.

It’s crazy to see how many people actually enjoy the things I put out here.

It really means a lot to me.

I’m super glad to have such wonderful people interacting with my thoughts and discoveries as I get older.

And finally… this is the face behind this publication.

If you’ve read this far, thank you very much for sticking around, and um… maybe say “Happy Birthday, Vic!” too.

That will be all for now.

Till next time, human :)💛

My mind is calm.
‎I don't feel my thoughts racing at the speed of light.
‎The last time I felt this way seems like a different reality.
‎I'm finally just existing for me, and not for others.

‎
‎I think this is peace.
‎I'm not thinking too deeply.
‎I'm aware of my existence, my emotions as a single, complete entity.
‎I'm not dwelling on something I did or could've done in the past

‎
‎This is tranquility.
‎This is easy.
‎I feel weightless, like a feather dropped from a plane at altitude.
‎Like a ballet dancer prancing gracefully without an audience.

‎
‎I think this is peace.
‎It's like this cool breeze coming from the fan by my desk is somehow penetrating my heart and cooling it down.
‎I honestly believe I could levitate if I wanted to.


‎I love me!
‎And I've never before meant it this much.

Till next time, human :)

Before I was calm enough to write Moviestar, there was the pissed-off Vic who got rejected, and while I know rejection is a part of life, and I’ve come to terms with the whole situation, I’m still human, so it hurt, and… this piece is basically a rant piece, a journal entry. More or less, an unfiltered, unprocessed, unreasonable, selfish version of Moviestar.

I have always felt like I was meant to be a stepping stone in people’s lives.

Now, you may be thinking, “Oh, brother, c’mon, just because a girl told you no?” but I’m being honest, and no, the situation with the girl was just a small part of a big picture.

Hear me out for a flipping minute!

Over the years, I have lost many people I really cared about, in many different ways.

With friendships…

I’m that friend people come to when they need someone to listen and—not necessarily—give advice.

I’ve always been soft-hearted, so I derive joy from “being there” for the people I care about in any capacity I’m able to.

Over the years, though, I’ve seen friends change for several reasons.

Maybe we had one or more misunderstandings and just drifted apart.

Maybe they wanted better things.

Maybe they just found and rolled with new people and did new activities I wouldn’t.

…or maybe they just outgrew me.

You see, I know it’s all valid. I know that change is fundamental, but at the end of the day, I’m a person with feelings too.

These people leave, and I almost always understand why. I find reasons to rationalize them leaving… logically at least, but that doesn’t just erase the fact that I feel hurt and grieve the end of these friendships.

And when I finally crack and react based on those feelings, they make me feel bad for having them.

They say things like “you’re supposed to be happy for me” or, even worse, “we’re just friends, it’s not that deep,” or some other thing that simply translates to: It’s not a big deal.

Yeah, maybe for you it isn’t.

With relationships…

Now this one really hurts.
This particular one is the main reason this piece had to exist.

I have been in a couple of relationships, and I’ve had to watch amazing people (maybe not so amazing in hindsight, but I was convinced they were at the time) walk out of my life completely.

As someone who doesn’t do things casually, watching someone I’ve built a strong connection with—someone I’ve made a part of every plan—just up and leave my life for whatever reason hurts to the core.

To be completely honest, I barely ever understand their reasons for leaving, but sometimes… I do, and I understand.

I mean, I appreciate when they tell me why they want out instead of just trying to make me see enough signs to initiate the split.

The problem is they still leave, though.

I love you genuinely, and I understand you probably… don’t? But you still leave, and I’m left. I’m the one who’s being left, and I feel that regardless of your reasons.

The truth remains that even though I understand, in the end… I’m left completely alone to take care of Vic’s feelings while tending to others, and in the end—this is probably me being too conclusive, but—nobody cares for me.

And this…

This is why I’m lonely.

(sigh)

I hate it even more when they tell me they love me while leaving.

It opens up a whole alternate universe of thoughts in me, and I end up holding on to it, to them, and every step of the way, it hurts like heck.

Just so you know, I’m not lacking in self-love.

I have in the past, but not anymore. I enjoy my own company a lot, but it would be nice to have other people who genuinely want to—try to—be a permanent part of my life.

Well, that was a heavy one.

Till next time, human :)💛

I lost my innocence.
‎My happiness, my will to live,
‎My curiosity, my childish glee,
‎My silly dreams, my secret wish.
‎
‎I lost my innocence.
‎In all of life's lessons,
‎The ones that met me, and the ones I rushed into.
‎Through heartbreak, pain, success, and shame.
‎
‎I lost my innocence.
‎In the seriousness of life itself,
‎while dealing with the endless fears,
‎of failing and being ordinary.
‎
‎I lost my innocence.
‎I know that now,
‎and I want to reclaim every lent second,
‎but time doesn't do refunds.
‎
‎I'm reclaiming the reins of my life,
‎and I've decided to truly live,
‎with music, dance, and smiles.
‎On a quest to create good times.
‎
‎And whenever I have to decide,
‎I will always consider that little guy;
‎isolated, scared, and shy
‎who only ever sought freedom,
‎to love, and laugh and cry,
‎but puts on a stoic mask as he tends to others' wounds.
‎
‎I lost my innocence,
‎to the curse of logic and common sense,
‎to the allure of value and true success,
‎to the ruthlessness the world shows a heart full of love,
‎to the ones who made me question the essence of love.

Till next time, human :)

I met someone recently.

A very special someone.

I may have just broken a world record for how quickly I messed things up between us, and it somehow led to me questioning every decision I’ve ever made up until this point.

But… to make this make sense, let’s take a few brief steps back.

A couple of weeks ago, I met this very smart lady, and it wasn’t long before I was swept off my feet by how her mind works.

It was like meeting a female version of myself. It felt like a fever dream, honestly.

I wanted her around, and I knew if I was ever going to start a team, she’d definitely be someone I would want in it, so I reached out and spoke to her about collaborating on a passion project.

She was excited to work with me on it, and we started bouncing around ideas and—just as I expected—made some quick progress.

Everything was going great. Really great.

* * *

And you just had to mess things up, didn’t ya?

* * *

Technically, yes, but we’re getting to that.

It all started with some small talk, y’know, just to keep the mood light, and not seem like the kind of conversation you’d have on Microsoft Teams.

The more we spoke, the more I learned about her, and the more “swept off my feet” I was. Then I saw what she looked like, and she was gorgeous. I was probably floating at that point.

We spoke regularly, and the conversations were never one-sided.

It didn’t feel like I had to put in extra effort at any point. It was back and forth like a tennis match.

Peak.

* * *

Calm before the storm.

* * *

On this particular day, I sent her a poem I wrote and asked her what she thought about it, and if she felt the poem’s title was fine or if she could suggest a better one.

She said she liked it.

* * *

Of course she did. I loved it, and she sees many things quite similarly to how I view them.

* * *

The poem…

It was a poem about beauty and nuance. I was basically saying that there is beauty in everything, regardless of how it appears or feels.

I would share the poem here, but that wasn’t all.

It was an acrostic poem.

It seemed really clever at the time, and… if I’m being honest, it actually was pretty clever.

She read the poem and thought nothing of it. It was a really nice poem, but it was nothing else.

That was probably my sign to zip it and keep it pushing, but I didn’t. I was excited—too excited.

I told her to look again, and again, and again, and she still didn’t see anything unusual.

I finally told her, “Now, read just the first letters of each line”, and she saw it this time.

She was shocked. She even sent a sticker to show that she was.

I had asked her out, directly-indirectly.

And the ball was now in her court.

So far,

I met this really smart lady.

I fell in love with how her mind works.

I reached out to her for a collaboration.

We started talking a lot.

I fell for her.

I asked her out.

Pretty cool, right?

Now, let’s talk about what I didn’t tell you.

All these things happened in the space of 5 days.

Not 5 weeks, not 5 months. 5 DAYS!

And… believe it or not, that is very out of character for me.

I typically spend anywhere from two months to two years studying someone before ever gathering enough reasons and forming the balls to approach them.

Now, as any logical person would, I asked myself: Why?

This was the part that made me question everything.

Why did I act so quickly, almost as if out of desperation, when I hadn’t even considered myself ready for a girlfriend in such a long time?

The answer hit me about two days later, and it was quite brutal.

“I’ve gotten so used to being alone that I never really realised how lonely I truly am.”

I started retracing my steps and reviewing my life from there.

Every time I start working on something new for myself, I’m super excited.

Things like publishing essays on Substack, writing down ideas, side quests, passion projects, missions, and the like.

98% of the time, though, nobody shares in the joy I get from these things.

I just talk to myself or chuckle or do a little celebratory dance near my desk till I realize it’s weird, and then sit back down and keep doing my stuff.

Yet, I never thought much of it.

* * *

Yikes. Do you even have friends?

* * *

Yes, I do.

Although my friends don’t quite connect with me on that level.

I mean, a lot of them knew me back when I was so immersed in some other thing, like music or drawing or math, and seeing me change so frequently… it can be hard to keep up.

Throw in the fact that life is consistently schooling everyone, and we have several reasons why they’re… not there.

I don’t villainize them, cos that’d be dumb.

Although, upon realizing this, I reached out to a select few of them and ranted about all of this, and they were there.

I’ve been living this way for God-knows-how-long, and I never thought much about it.

I’ve always known I was different, and to an extent—weird.

It’s even why my logo is mostly an alien, and very subtly a lightbulb.

I guess I just connected with someone and felt understood in ways I hadn’t experienced, at least since TheCreativeVic became a thing.

It felt nice. It was beautiful.

I wanted to hold on to this connection permanently, but then I acted too swiftly and ended up messing it up.

Then there was the part where I questioned if I’ve ever been in a relationship because I was in love, or if it had always been because I was trying to hold on to a connection I hadn’t experienced prior to that person.

What if I’ve never actually been in love or experienced love before?

What if my whole life is a lie?

If you’re somehow still wondering what the lady’s response to my confession was… Well, she turned me down.

She also suggested that we speak less so she doesn’t accidentally lead me on.

(Yeah, I know. I blew it big time.)

That’s actually a very valid response to being asked out by a stranger after only talking for 5 days.

I still wonder if she thinks I’m a weirdo, or a creep, or perhaps a pervert, or if she thinks I do this often.

A serial ask-out-er.

That’s something.

Well, as I said in my last essay, people have the right to deal with things the way they feel is necessary, and whatever she thinks of me now… well, I just have to live with that, don’t I?

But most of all, this experience has taught me that my kind of people do exist, and if I could meet one, I could definitely meet more, and y’know… not ask them out in 5 days.

Till next time, human :)💛

The older I get, the more nuanced my views, opinions, and observations are.

I’ve had people hurt me genuinely, and I’m a very sensitive and emotional person, so it just kinda makes sense that I’m the “good guy”, y’know… because “bad things happen to good people”.

However, I must also admit that there are people who are no longer in my life because of me, because of things I did—things I could’ve easily avoided.

See…

You can hurt people and still be hurt by the aftermath, and the fact that someone hurt you isn’t always evidence that you were the one who was wronged.

Imagine this scenario…

You hurt someone—someone you care about—and the person decides it would be better to keep their distance even after you’ve apologized.

There are two things you could do in this situation:
Let them be, and live with the fact that you caused this, and that you’re not beyond consequences,

Or you can keep apologizing to them, trying to make them change their decision as some sort of “proof” that they’ve forgiven you.

If you’d do the second thing, then you’re essentially playing the victim, and ultimately, you’ve become the bad guy in that story.

A lot of us are terrible at accepting responsibility, and I recently realized how that could be a form of pride. Humble pride.

For instance, if you consider yourself a good person, you tend to believe you shouldn’t ever wrong someone or be at fault.

Maybe by making excuses for yourself, or trying too hard to repair relationships you broke just so you have enough evidence to claim that you put enough effort into saving the same relationship you ruined.

Let’s take another scenario…

A couple gets into a heated argument, and the man hits his wife.
The wife then leaves the house that very day and goes to her parents’ house.

The man eventually shows up and apologizes. The lady says she forgives him, yet refuses to stay with him and files for divorce.

The man could either grant her the divorce, taking full responsibility for hitting her and ruining her trust in him,

or he could keep begging her, giving her gifts and other things to show how sorry he is, and keep repeating this at her house, at her workplace, at her salon, on her socials, and pretty much anywhere else.

What do you think would happen? Who do you think most people will regard as the villain?

The man who hit the woman? Or the woman who reacted reasonably to being hit by the person she’s supposed to trust with basically the rest of her life?

In this part of the world, the woman would probably be shamed and insulted.

She’d be told that the man is a good man, that nobody is above making mistakes, that she has an unforgiving spirit, and the list is endless.

In the end, the narrative is that the man “fought endlessly to keep her,” and the woman was the bad person; but if you agree with that, I hate to break it to you that wisdom is chasing you, but you are faster.

If you’re currently thinking the man is a manipulator in this story, and you picked the second option in our first scenario, you’ve been doing the same thing he’s doing, but perhaps on a smaller scale.

So, what do you do when you hurt someone?
You apologize.

Ultimately, the ball is in the other person’s court.

However they decide to deal with the hurt you caused is up to them.

They can decide to forgive you or not.

They can decide to stay or leave.

Their opinion of you is also theirs.

Whatever they choose to do, you have to accept it and learn from it.

What you shouldn’t do is try to rationalize what you’ve done to them by saying it’s not that deep,

or repeatedly apologize as an attempt to eventually erase what you’ve done.

So, to answer the question in the title of this piece…

Maybe you are the bad guy.

Maybe in someone’s story, you really are.

And if you look closely—and honestly—enough, I believe you’d see it too.

Till next time, human :)

What even is this life?

Is it some sick, twisted quest for survival? Many would agree.

As some suggest, a gift? Many would disagree.

A big strife? Not even that will suffice.

Is this a play? Is this one big theatre?

We’re raised watching the good guy win and live out his hero fantasy, only to barely even grow before facing the harshest reality checks and still refusing to accept the cruelty of it all, being delusional enough to ignore every lesson till it finally, painfully registers—beyond all logical and illogical doubt—that the world is indeed very cold, and happily-ever-afters are a myth.

You love genuinely?

Then expect life to send you the worst people in the world who will drag your heart in mud, along thorny bushes, on streets of shards of broken glass.

Sure, you’ll survive it all, only to advance to the more unspeakable things, as one big joke in the comedy series we call life.

You’ll leap from heartbreak to heartache in an endless loop.

Boy, will you have “breakthrough” moments.

You probably will meet “the one” once, twice, three times.

Each time, you’ll be certain that this person is the one.

One after another, they’ll become lessons that will develop your character, or simply wreck you.

After the first one becomes a lesson, you’ll become more cautious, more careful, realizing the fragility of your heart, only to fall into the hands of another.

You’ll be so convinced: this one is different. Life has finally paid me back in full.

You will hesitate, hold back, try to stay guarded, but eventually, you’ll fold, and you’ll hand them the fragile thing, which is now just a lot of broken pieces held together loosely by sheer stubbornness and delusion. How cute.

The cycle will repeat itself, and you’ll continue to think you’d find your happily ever after.

Why? You’re a good person, and you feel you deserve good things.

Hehe-
You made me chuckle.

If life were that easy, we may never have villains.

Are you an optimist?

Then expect to become the poster-person for stupidity and foolishness.

But you—you’re so stubborn, it’s hilarious. I’m sure you’ll probably look past it, laser-focused on the “bigger picture”, y’know, hoping for the time when it all pays off and you can finally prove them wrong? But it never comes. It never does.

Yet you keep choosing to do the same thing over and over.

HAVE YOU NO SELF-RESPECT?!

I wasn’t supposed to yell. I-

Anyhoo… moving on.

Are you an empath?

You…

I almost feel bad for you, honestly—and feeling isn’t exactly my thing.

But if I feel bad for you, I have to feel bad for me, and I can’t afford that.

You’ll likely lose everyone and everything you hold dear, and on the off chance that you don’t, you’ll lose yourself.

You’ll become a shell, a caterpillar who went into the cocoon but never emerged.

You’ll wish away the very thing that makes you an empath.
You’ll beg to be cold-hearted, nonchalant, but you will never be.
You can decide to act, try to—“fake it until you make it”—but it won’t work.

You’ll fold, like—silk in the face of a fire. You’ll feel bad for them; you don’t have the balls, and you never will.

It hurts… doesn’t it?

You, narcissist.

Look at you, acting all smug like you cracked the code.

You’re free from “the matrix”, am I right?

Is that what you tell yourself when you’re in front of the mirror?

Can you even handle looking at yourself in the mirror?

You believe you’ve figured life out, yes?

Little do you know that you have only chosen a different way to lose.

Your “selfish nature” is nothing but a facade.

Your victims do not see it, but I do.

You hide behind talking down on everything; you’re the loudest in the room.

Of course, you’re the loudest. It’s just like the golden old saying goes:

Empty barrels make the loudest noise.

You’re empty.

I don’t even know if I should pity you more than the empath.

It’s pretty impressive how you’ve managed to avoid being hurt by other people—at least directly.

Underneath that mask—that act of supremacy you put up—you’re still a human being.

You still get hurt, but ultimately, you’re the one who hurts yourself the most.

Doesn’t it hurt that you push away everyone who cares about you?

Hehe.

The dumbest part is that you’ve convinced yourself that it’s a defense mechanism to neglect your own feelings and hurt innocent people, which eats you up from the inside every waking second of your life.

Can’t think of many worse ways to live than constantly being in denial with yourself.

Pathetic.

If it isn’t the eternally unfazed cynic.

You walk around expecting the absolute worst from everyone you meet.

You think it makes you invulnerable to hurt?

In reality, you kill every good thing that has ever come your way before it even has the chance to manifest.

You are like a farm with fertile soil, but you keep killing off all the seeds, both good and bad.

You could wait around and watch them grow to an extent where you can easily differentiate between them and weed out the bad ones, but nooo.

You want to be right. You want to be steps ahead of the curve.

So what do you do? You kill them all, and-

Sure, you have no weeds, but you have no crops, no flowers. You have nothing.

You have reduced yourself to a desert—a desert with fertile soil.

Surely, the empath is delusional and… quite frankly the easy target, but at least he lets life surprise him; he remains open enough—long enough—to meet some good people, to receive some good things, but you—you’ll never know what that feels like.

I want you to remember that no one ever did this to you.

I… never did this to you.

This is your doing. You chose this.

So, I hope you actually love it anywhere near as much as you claim to.

Aha! The perfectionist.

You spend your whole life planning, obsessing over every single detail, trying to make the perfect plan, get the perfect result, execute your “perfect” ideas perfectly, yet…

…you have achieved next to nothing.

I would even argue that “nothing” is still a very generous way to quantify what you’ve achieved with your preparations.

You’ve spent your whole life crafting and polishing armor for a war that has already concluded.

You’re in a race, but you’re so careful, so… meticulous, so intentional about everything, and the fear of appearing imperfect for even a millisecond has kept you at the starting line, and the race—no, the entire sporting event has closed.

You’re so lost, so immersed in the preparation that you fail to notice how much time has gone by, how much the goal has moved since you started preparing to hit it.

Surely, the happy-go-lucky guy has failed several times and has only won 1% of everything he ran headfirst into, yet he has recorded more successes than you have tries.

Life is imperfect.

Humans are imperfect.

You…

You want to be a god.

That takes a lot of guts.

Yet, you’re the biggest coward I’ve ever seen.

A god? You don’t even have the balls to fail.

You don’t even have the balls to start anything.

Your whole life is one interconnected web of prep times that never moved past the preparations.

Pathetic.

Tch. If it isn’t the intellectual.

All your life, you’ve shown promise. You’ve always been the guy with “so much potential”.

You know things.

You are knowledgeable enough to explain several things with impressive depth.

You’re very calculative.

You seek to know, and that-

That right there is your superpower, but at the same time, it is your kryptonite.

You are greedy.

You’re not too different from the perfectionist.

You move through life telling yourself that the more you know, the easier life is.

Hehe.

It’s like saying the fastest way to cure a splinter is to stuff the area with more splinters.

Knowledge is desired by those who don’t have it.

For the ones who do, it is but a curse.

Think about how happy you were as a toddler, as a child who only had to deal with fractions and get pissed off at your parents for not buying you some dumb toy that you could probably have choked on.

You grew up, you learned new things, you learned a LOT of lessons.

You have it worse than the average human.

You learn things faster, more thoroughly than most people, and the ones who don’t—they envy you.

You know how it feels inside.

You know by now that every time you learn something new, every time you absorb any piece of knowledge, you’re more aware; you see dangers that normal people do not…

I know you know this, because I too am cursed with knowledge.

I know that by now, you no longer relish this “ability” of yours to absorb knowledge quickly and piece it together with things that seem unrelated to the regular person.

You know by now that what you have isn’t an ability, but rather a disability to ignore knowledge. You’re cursed to know.

I know that you already know that knowledge can not make you win the game of life, but you can’t opt out. You’re a special character.

There you are. The ambitious one

You chase everything.

You want the honor, the achievements; you want the “best” out of life.

It’s beautiful—almost inspirational.

However, it’s also a very huge mistake.

You have one life, yet you have infinite pursuits.

You’ll probably achieve a lot of them, but you will never be satisfied.

You’re the definition of “believing in your dreams”, but little do you know that those very dreams you believe in just set you up in a hamster wheel.

One you’ll probably ride till the day you die.

The thrill of chasing, the joy of achieving.

These are drugs that blind you.

You’ll probably give them all the time you’re supposed to give to your family, your friends, life.

You’ll probably die a decorated individual. Perhaps a pacesetter, an influencer, a changemaker to many people, but to the ones who needed you—the raw, human you—you would have been unavailable because you were always chasing the stars.

My personal favorite. The nihilist

You are the neutral wire in all this.

You avoid everything.

You insist that nothing matters because you think it keeps you safe—from everything.

I like you. I do.

I admire your… unfathomable stupidity.

It’s funny; even life laughs at you.

You’re hilarious.

You don’t believe in anything. You don’t believe you or anyone else is worth anything.

Do you realize how much delusion and sheer stubbornness it takes to maintain this… belief?

I’m curious. Tell me… how has life been since you decided you don’t matter?

You, my friend, are incredible.

But… when?

When do you-

When do all of you finally WAKE UP and accept the fact that you are playing a game that you can’t win?

WHEN?!

Now, you may be wondering what my deal is.

It’s quite complex, you see.

There’s no one-size-fits-all method to winning at life—none that I know of—but I do not entirely despise this fickle thing-a-ma-jig you humans hate-love.

I love this.

What I’m doing right now, right here.

Immortalizing myself with the words I speak—it relieves me; it feels intimate, almost sexual…

…not like you’d know. You treat expression so casually. You box yourself in, knowing you need to express yourself.

You rely on expressing yourself via those pathetic human relationships where you end up doing all the listening, and the few times you get to “express” yourself to your “partner”, you end up apologizing to them for their insensitivity towards you.

Pathetic.

Your puny human relationships are doomed to end sooner or sooner—not later, my friend, because you have no idea when life or death puts an end to them.

One thing you can be certain about is that it will all come to an end, and life will move on to the next characters, the next toys to be played with.

Leave behind pieces of yourself. Perhaps nobody will ever find them, but they at least get to live beyond that brain, that heart of yours caged in the vessel of flesh that is doomed to perish in what—a century—if you’re lucky?

Pathetic.

Till next time, human :)

This piece contains what may come across as a lot of self-glaze, but it isn’t in any way meant to sell me to my audience. Think of it as my POV (cos that’s what it is), and if you’ve been following for a while now, you’d know that I’m never afraid to call myself out and shamelessly highlight my weaknesses, so kindly allow it :)

I sometimes think love—in the romantic sense—is not for me, or for people like me (if they even exist).

My experiences with romantic relationships have been… not great.

You see…

I’m a textbook loverboy, and I don’t even have to try.
When I’m interested in a lady, I’m giving nearly all my time, attention, and affection to her.

I feel things deeply: art, music, written pieces, conversations, gestures, facial expressions, tones, the way someone speaks about something they’re passionate about; the list is endless, but you already get the message.

I notice the “I’m fine” that you say not to seem extra (I’m a pro at this, so it takes one to know one).

My point is… I’m incapable of being casual with anything I decide to put my time and energy into.

The things most rom-coms from the 70s to date would categorize as ideal romantic gestures and characteristics come naturally to me.

* * *

Well, that’s a good thing, right?

…RIGHT?!

* * *

Well…
Yes, and no.

My romantic relationships usually have a 4-phase cycle from birth to death.

Let’s walk through each of them together. This isn’t a social science class.

Phase 1 - The Chill Phase

This is my favorite phase because there’s usually zero tension on my end (hopefully hers too), and we’re just two people existing in each other’s orbits.

Some typical scenarios in this phase are when a lady doesn’t know her way around, needs help with some schoolwork, or wants to learn a skill, and she approaches me because—in many ladies’ words—I look very innocent and safe, despite being a fairly big guy.

Despite being an introvert, I don’t reject people. I actually like company… sometimes.

I tend to view any stranger as “someone’s kid” who’s also figuring this whole life thing out.

I also love it when people want to do better things with their time and, ultimately, their lives, so I’m always happy to help.

In this phase, I’m just your friendly neighborhood chill guy.

Phase 2 - The Unicorn Phase

This is the phase that occurs after things have moved beyond a surface-level vibe to an actual connection.

At this point, we’ve had those deep conversations, discussed several character development arcs, and have actually become friends. It’s cool when it remains that way.

When it grows, though, and becomes something more…

Say, when we start developing more-than-friendly attraction towards each other, you know… talking more often than two platonic people are supposed to, when everything gets real, the cues are set, and either person asks the other out, and we’re a thing.

* * *

Now… I need you to recall the stuff I said between the quote from “an ex” and my first monologue block.

Got it? Let’s proceed

* * *

I remember her appointments, her goals, random events in her life, her terrible nutrition habits,

I prepare a meal roster for her, text or call to remind her to eat, write her poems and/or songs, tell her about the random things that I think about, make her laugh at least once every ten minutes when relevant,

Randomly send her love letters via email or text, abandon a movie with my guys to take her calls or respond to her texts, take her corrections very seriously… and other things I can’t remember now, but you get it.

She’s fascinated, interested, in awe, maybe even a bit skeptical, because I’m “too good to be true”, and she’d often say it to me.

Back in the day, this would have me smiling from ear to ear, but after a few played out the same framework, that became the point where I started to panic, because I knew what usually followed.

Phase 3 - The Weirdo Phase

This is when all the “too good to be true” things I do become the new normal, the new—excuse my phrasing—bare minimum.

She starts to expect the check-ins.
She expects the love letters.
She expects the calls.
She expects everything.

Meanwhile, I’m constantly trying something new.
I feel uncomfortable when I repeat things over and over again.

Days begin to feel the same, and it messes with my mind. Then I slip into some sort of depression-like state, so I need to try new things to regulate my mood over a long period.

I may be into music and poetry this month, and two months later, I’m making blueprints for a generator that runs on water.

* * *
Yeah, I’m crazy like that.

* * *

Regardless of this fact, one thing that I don’t get tired of is actually being emotionally available.

My best works are inspired by love.

Love for writing.
Love for art.
Love for tech.
Love for a product.
Love for a brand’s vision.

And I personally think one of the most powerful forms of love is the kind you have for other humans, so I value it a lot.

Although these characteristics tend to overwhelm her, she becomes… distant?

I can’t exactly pinpoint why things begin to fall apart at this stage, and if all I really have to give is already “the norm”, what’s left?

I’m no mind reader, so I ask her something along the lines of, “You’ve been off. Are we good?”

She’d usually try to act like we’re fine, but I know something’s off, and I’ll keep trying to fix things… which almost never ends well.

Phase 4 - The “Too Much” Phase

This is usually the most painful phase of the cycle for me.

Everything that made me “too good to be true” is now a default setting, and I start to think she’s bored. She doesn’t say it, but I can just feel it.

This is where I start to talk more about my ideas and hers and try to see if we could connect with each other’s worlds.

In the last phase, everything was expected, but now it’s almost irritating.

She starts to decline my calls.
She replies weakly.
She becomes too busy for me.
She doesn’t find anything I do special anymore.

It begins to feel one-sided.

I notice. My chest tightens more often than usual.
I complain about it; I try to talk things over with her. She insists we’re fine, but I notice everything; I notice the changes, but I hang on.

* * *
I can fix this. I just have to try harder. This is the part where I fight for our love.

* * *

After a few more reps of this, she breaks up with me.

Too many times, I’ve watched the same qualities that make someone fall for me eventually become the qualities that make them fall out of love with me, and I wish I could say I understand it now, but I really don’t.

The fact that I recognize these patterns doesn’t mean I can solve the problem.

Instead, I’ve just been trying to do things differently.

I’ve tried skipping phases, tried to see if I could somehow override the cycle.

I’ve tried letting physical attraction lead. I’ve tried being very strict. I’ve tried being nonchalant. I’ve tried moving fast, tried moving slower, tried caring less, caring more.

It’s all very messy in the end.

It’s frustrating.

I have friendships that have lasted a decade, and some have lasted even longer.


I’ve known these people for years. They have seen me change interests, change opinions,

They’ve seen me disappear into some new obsession for a while, come back, evolve, get lost, figure things out, and simply exist as a strange human being—and somehow, we’re still friends.

But no romantic relationship I’ve had has made it past two years.

That’s a funny statistic to have about yourself, especially when you genuinely love people, especially when you genuinely try.

…and especially when—on paper—I seem to have all the ingredients for a pretty decent relationship at the very least.

Maybe there’s no logic to it.

Maybe sometimes two people can genuinely love each other and still not know how to keep loving each other in a way that works.

* * *

I don’t know, bruh.

* * *

So, is love for me?

Honestly, I have no idea.

But apparently, after everything I’ve learned over the years, I’m still stubborn enough to keep trying.


Till next time, human :)

Also, the idea for writing this piece came from a random conversation with my good friend, , and I promised to tag him when this went live, so here we are.

As I write this, I’m feeling a lot of things.

I’m overwhelmed, happy, grateful, stressed, hopeful, and somehow… I feel like I really need to cry to be relieved.

If you understand or can relate, then we may both require medical attention.

If you have NOT been living under a rock, you probably didn’t notice that I haven’t been active on Substack for the past 14 days (at least, not as much as I was a couple of weeks ago).

Well, I have been on quite a few side quests since then.

I handled a lot of work stuff, reached out to people I wanted to work with or collaborate with, got yeses, nos, and yeses that eventually flipped to nos, but hey, rejection is feedback too, no?

I started to gain more clarity on what I was doing with my time, my energy, and my life.

But the reason I’m writing this article came from a random, yet very special Tuesday.

, a very good friend of mine, sent me a voice message on Thursday, 30th July—I promise I don’t intend to make it weird, but I feel the date will be important for people who will see this much later—where he complained about how he has been at home for far too long and that he really needed to “touch grass”.

* * *

If you don’t already know what “touch grass” means, it basically means to go outside and have fun, explore nature, et cetera.

You also might just be at that age where you’re supposed to be collecting pension, senior citizen.

* * *

Anyways…

Rae mentioned that a bunch of people were going to see Spider-Man: Brand New Day in cinemas, and I suggested that we should see it together.

We fixed a date—the following Tuesday, planned the meetup, and everything was set up.

The D-day came; we met up as planned and moved to the cinema together.

Bro looked very different from the last time I saw him.
I honestly didn’t recognize him at first until he walked up to me.

He looked much better than the last time I saw him, and in typical bro fashion, I made sure to tease him about it every chance I got.

We chatted for a bit on our way there, and it was really nice to catch up on each other’s lives.

Then we arrived at the venue, got our tickets, and got settled quite early.

I figured Rae wasn’t up to speed on the movie, but as a die-hard Spidey stan, I started narrating everything bro needed to know before the movie started.

Slowly, the seats were filled, and I was smiling from ear to ear like a child on Christmas morning (assuming the child isn’t raised in a Nigerian home where he’d have had to prepare the breakfast/lunch/dinner along with everybody else).

The lights suddenly went off, and the big screen lit up, cutting me off in the middle of a sentence that I can’t even slightly recall as I’m writing this.

I immediately put my phone on airplane mode, turned off all my alarms and reminders, then I slid my phone down my right pocket.

I was LOCKED IN.

As the credits rolled after the closing scene, more than half of the seats were empty.

I know this because the people in my row had to walk right in front of me to the exit.

My focus hadn’t left the screen since the opening address by the crew.

I whispered to Rae that it’s tradition to include a post-credit scene in every Marvel movie.

As the credits continued to roll, more and more people left, but I didn’t budge.

The post-credit scene finally arrived, and even though it was very short, it was there, and I waited long enough for it.

The movie was over—for real this time, and I could finally rest and watch the sun rise on a grateful universe.

But while that was the end of the movie, it was the beginning of something much bigger.

As a kid, I only ever owned two action figures: the Spider-Man 3 action figure and the Spider-Man 3 symbiote suit action figure.

I’ve watched every single Spider-Man live-action/animated movie, series, and every Marvel movie featuring Spidey. I’ve read several Spider-Man comics digitally and in print.

The current Spider-Man is the most relatable one to me because we’re roughly the same age (according to the movie’s storyline), and are basically going through similar things… to an extent.

Seeing how he can deal with those things and keep pushing regardless was enough to inspire hopefulness and determination.

I couldn’t stop thinking about the movie.

I would have made a list of specific things I learned, but that’s boring. It just inspires me to be a better person overall. I think that’s the best way to summarize it.

Rae and I eventually went our different ways, and we were both glad that we got to leave the “comfort” of our homes and actually have fun in the real world.

I got home that evening and decided to review everything about everything.

My relationships with people, work, fitness, self-care, hobbies, and other stuff.

I spent so much time journaling, sketching, writing drafts, roadmaps…

I just wanted to do things better, to be more responsible, and to stick to things regardless of the circumstances.

That very night, I started building my own AI assistant, inspired by Peter’s.

I named her Kyra, and I’ve made quite a lot of progress. Learning how these things work while actively using the knowledge gained to build something I intend to use.

It has taken a lot of errors, fixing, confusion, revisiting material, asking questions, and repeating the entire process, but…

She can already do some basic stuff like: hear me speak, speak back, open apps, play music, search stuff up on Google, and a few other things.

She’s not perfect, but she exists now, and I’ll keep working on her in the long run.

I’m still a beginner at this, and I’ll definitely welcome any pointers, corrections, and resources that could help me build her better and more effectively/efficiently :)

Within the last 14 days, I also connected more with the people I cared about.

I got a message from my best friend about two weeks ago, and it had so much emotion behind it.

The message made my entire day, and maybe even my entire week.

I’ve always been that guy to go out of my way for people I care about, and as you may have guessed, most of the time, people take all that for granted and try to take advantage of my free-spiritedness, which is pretty discouraging.

And while I’ve met many people over the years who genuinely have my back and are appreciative, this message felt very special and made me want to do more.

I’d say it’s probably because most of the things they highlighted were very little things that I personally didn’t pay any mind to or things that I had completely forgotten about. It was, and is, beautiful.

Now, about clarity…

When people see “TheCreativeVic”, I want to come to mind, but not as a writer, a designer, a content creator, but as a significant body of work that was formed by many mediums.

I started writing on Substack to get away from spending my days doing designs, research work, and writing overly technical things that I wasn’t passionate about 80% of the time.

It’s also an extension of my journal.

Since journaling helps me clear my very busy mind, I decided to see what would happen if I posted it in public. Maybe someone could find something I wrote at a point where they really needed to see it.

That someone could even be me, y’know?

I’ve got a knack for being there for people, knowing the right thing to say in almost every situation, but when I’m in a sticky situation, the walls are closing in, and my head goes blank, so this is for me too.

Do I know the full picture of what I’m building? No, but I have solid direction.
I know my next move, my next two, five, ten, twenty moves.

I understand that it’s bigger than me, and the best way I can define it is with this direct excerpt from my journal:

If you’ve read my Odyssey ACT I, you’d notice some differences between it and this one.

Somewhere between journaling, having conversations, the cinema, the late nights I spent building Kyra, and countless moments of reflection, I eventually stopped waiting for life to begin.

I started living for real.

My typical week wasn’t very eventful, but the past 2 weeks have been insanely packed with adventures and experiences.

This piece isn’t called A Brand New Day because I saw Spider-Man: Brand New Day.

It’s called A Brand New Day because, recently, that’s exactly what life has felt like for me.

I do not have everything figured out yet... but I’m definitely excited to wake up tomorrow.

Life is strange. Very beautiful, yet very strange.

Till next time, human :)💛

Also, the song attached to this piece is Oh yeah? by Steve Lacy.

If you’ve never reconsidered your opinion on any topic because someone said so in the caption of a video where they didn’t even need to speak—they just played a sound in the background—and somehow got thousands of likes, you're a different breed.

…or you’re just a liar.

You know what fascinates me the most about the internet?

It’s how anyone with a device that has an internet connection can randomly think of something smart—or stupid (mostly stupid)—and get tens, hundreds, thousands, and even millions of people agreeing with and ready to defend the idea.

It doesn’t even take much work to do this.

You could explain it in a short video,
Take a completely unrelated video or image and slap the idea on the video/image as a caption that starts with “POV:”,
You could tweet it,
or just write it as a comment.

If it gets enough likes or is unconventional enough to trigger a logical crashout, you could probably start a cult of people who “believe” in that idea as well.

* * *

What is wrong with you people?

* * *

why do we care so much about the opinions of strangers online?

Before we talk about this, I want to remind you that you don’t know half of these people.

Now, imagine you’re just a chill guy who likes to listen to music, sketch, and write.

You stumble on a video with the caption “maturing is realizing Drake bodied Kendrick in the beef”, and you decide to seek out more details on the beef.

You listen to the diss tracks they made towards one another, and you think, “Hey, I personally think Kendrick bodied Drake in the beef,” simply because you enjoyed Kendrick’s writing and flow more than Drake’s.

This is your opinion.

But if the top comment—as well as 98% of the comments under that post—says otherwise, then you have to choose to agree or disagree with the majority of people under the post, as well as the creator.

What do you do?


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Personally, I would just avoid commenting my opinion there, because I really don’t care about rap that much, and it’s really not worth being hated for.

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But what if you did care about rap and had the same opinion?
Would you realistically go against everyone under that post?



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I’m actually really curious about that. Please answer in the comments :)

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This scenario shows how we may end up caring about strangers’ opinions on topics—on the internet.

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Another scenario…

Imagine you’re scrolling online and see a video with the caption “POV: You’re not afraid to beat men/women/people’s mothers/people’s fathers that aren’t well-trained.”

While—in my humble opinion—people should logically check the poster’s criminal record and do a welfare check on the people around them…

You see several people agreeing with this in the comments, and some go out of their way to put it into practice in the real world, probably even post about it, and gather more people who agree in their own comment sections.

The loop repeats endlessly, thereby spreading the idea and recruiting people to adopt said idea.

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Thereby?!
Who uses thereby in the big 2026? Why did I even think of that word? I’ve never even heard another human being pronounce this word outside school premises.

I’ll just drop a random quote here to reduce the embarrassment.

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Anyways, this is an “almost-imaginary” scenario that shows how we may end up caring about strangers’ opinions of ourselves.


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It usually starts with a non-genuine comment. Next thing you know, you’re bone-smashing and looking like a Lord Farquaad caricature. smh.

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The Internet Hive Mind is basically the incredible power of the internet—especially social media—to not only connect people who share the same ideas and/or ideologies, but also form new opinions for people who either didn't have one... or simply replace the opinions they already had.

This can be a good thing, because that’s how information spreads, how content creators thrive, and it is a wet dream for anyone involved in marketing.


But if it’s not already very obvious, this can also—maybe even mostly—be a very bad thing.

How, you ask?

Well, imagine—last time, I promise—a world where every opinion can be flipped easily.

Where nobody can have their own opinion or choose to simply have no opinion.

Everybody wants to pick the opinion they believe the other person would love them for, and the other person does the same, trying not to offend person A, and suddenly, everybody has a peer-pressure-engineered opinion.

If this continues to happen, and the hivemind is fully formed…

Would we have any good movies, restaurant menus, government, fashion pieces, anything?

No, we won’t, but we’d probably agree that they’re good because that’s the consensus.

If this very bad scenario seems even slightly familiar, it’s because it is familiar.

It’s currently happening in our world today, just at a not-yet-absolute rate.

why does this even happen?

Humans are social creatures, so naturally, they tend to pick up ideas and behaviours from other humans around them.

We learn language, manners, humour, fashion, and many other things from people.

Back in the day, we only knew the people next door or in the next street, and our opinions and characters were influenced by what we observed from, say… 20-50 people.

Social media, however, connects us to billions of people, which means our opinions and characters are influenced by a significantly larger number of people.

so… what do we do about it?

Well, the solution is quite simple.

If you have an opinion about something, grow a spine and own it.

Nobody will beat you—mostly.

This advice can get too extreme and lead to ignorance, so I should add the fact that you should always be willing to learn.

If you learn something new that proves your opinion wrong, don’t stand on your disproved opinion. That’s just being dumb.

It’s also important to note that it’s completely fine to have no opinion on something.

”I don’t know” means you’ve chosen not to choose, not to be involved, and that’s fine.

I can’t be found in gender wars, basketball banter, tennis debates, and many other things, simply because I really don’t care.

I don’t ever wake up and think women or men are terrible people or that either side should be wiped out by the scourge virus.

There are simply too many topics and opinions in the world, and not one person knows them all.

If you know someone who has an opinion on absolutely everything… then you don’t.

The whole point is:
Your opinions should be yours, and not everything deserves your opinion.

If my proposed solution seems insufficient to you and/or you’d like to dive deeper into this topic, you should check out this YouTube video by David Achu where he discusses something very similar to this.

Anyways, this has been a very fun conversation. I look forward to our next one.

Till next time, human :)💛