Watch your words, someone's listening
Words used to die the moment they left your mouth. Now they don't. Every message, every voice note, every search. Kept. Indexed. Waiting for readers.
Nothing you say is heard once. It's stored, then read years later by strangers who don't have the context that made it make sense. ποΈ
A joke in a group chat from 2014, a 3am search, a rant to a chatbot, a comment under a stranger's post. All still there. All you.
The skill: write to the archive, not the person in front of you. The person forgets. The archive doesn't.
Finale:
Pull up something you wrote many years ago and read it as if you hate the author.
That's how it will be read. βοΈ