I don't reside anywhere in the accepted sense of the word. Not properly. I possess no permanent address in the United Kingdom, nor do I maintain any official foothold overseas.
Instead, I spend the better part of the year drifting through Asia and South America on 90-day tourist visas, bouncing between hotels and serviced apartments on rolling monthly arrangements. My entire corporate empire is crammed into a single backpack, while my wardrobe resides in a small carry-on suitcase. That's the sum total of my existence.
I vastly prefer it that way, if I'm being perfectly honest.
The less official paperwork tethered to my name, the better. I'm entirely absent from the electoral register, I've no fixed abode, and I leave no discernable footprint anywhere. I conduct my business affairs from a distance and generally keep myself entirely to myself. On reflection, I suspect I've spent the last several years engaged in a quiet campaign to vanish entirely from the system without ever quite admitting the fact to myself.
Perhaps that strikes the casual observer as a touch paranoid. Even so, the older I get, the less inclined I am to trust a single aspect of modern administration.
I'm not entirely certain what compelled me to begin committing these thoughts to paper. Perhaps it's because the world grows distinctly more peculiar with every passing year, and I can't rid myself of the suspicion that most ordinary folk recognise this truth deep down, even if they lack the courage to say it aloud. Something's fundamentally amiss.
It's as though reality has been entirely supplanted by a much flatter, vastly inferior imitation.
The public look utterly exhausted and thoroughly disgruntled at all times. High streets feel entirely moribund, daily conversations have become hollow exercises, and half the internet doesn't even appear to be populated by human beings. It's merely a digital wasteland of automated bots, dreadful advertisements, loudmouthed idiots shouting at one another, and an endless stream of absolute rubbish pumped directly into the public consciousness at every hour of the day.
I believe that's what truly began to unhinge my sanity after a time. It's the unremitting clamour of contemporary existence. Every television screen screams for attention, every mobile application is engineered to keep the populace thoroughly addicted, and every government department prattles on endlessly about public safety while systematically tracking the citizenry through the little glass bricks they willingly carry about in their pockets.
And the extraordinary thing is that people simply accept it.
That's the truly bizarre part of the equation.
I often reflect that the public cheerfully surrendered their privacy because they were promised total convenience in return. They received instant food deliveries, entertainment on demand, and the ability to scroll through nonsense until their eyes glaze over. The entire business looks suspiciously like a total stitch-up when you stand back and view the spectacle properly.
Perhaps I'm merely talking absolute rubbish. I really cannot say.
Nevertheless, I can't shake the uncomfortable feeling that modern life has begun grinding the human psyche down in ways we don't yet fully comprehend. We don't even appear to be present in our own lives half the time. Everyone's permanently elsewhere in their own minds, scrolling, consuming, reacting, and arguing. Absolutely nobody ever switches off.
I compose these entries primarily because I'm attempting to make some semblance of sense out of the chaos in my own head. I'm trying to untangle the mess of technology, media manipulation, state surveillance, economic absurdity, and sheer information overload. It's an attempt to dissect the peculiar atmosphere that hangs so heavily over contemporary life, all those trifling little absurdities that accumulate over the decades until the entire world begins to feel completely artificial.
I don't pretend to possess the answers. Half the time I'm merely trying to determine whether the world has genuinely gone mad, or whether an excessive amount of isolation has simply addled my own brain.
It could honestly be either at this juncture.
At any rate, these are merely observations. They're the ramblings of a man who quietly stepped sideways out of conventional society years ago and never quite found the motivation to step back into it again.