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21.6.2025
Dear Blog,
Awkwardness in a way is a friend to all. It acts as both a barrier of protection and a hoop that once jumped through, becomes another point of connection.
I could argue that it is not the first impression that is more important but rather the energy that you carry to every meeting. Sure, a first meeting can separate the weirdos from the possible friend, but sometimes no matter how badly you feel you mess up in an introduction, if the person is right you will still connect.
Oftentimes we let our anxieties control us, but in the end of the day are we not all humans? People that make mistakes, mess up their words? There is something magical in retelling funny stories or mistakes anyways, so why worry? If it's meant to be, it will be.
Lots of Love,
Lena
29.5.2025
Dear Blog,
Recently, I’ve been thinking about the prospects of work culture and humanity. For every ounce of churning slop that was created to do nothing but take up space and even just a second of people’s precious time on linkedin, there is an individual out there who cannot afford to create real art. This art being philosophical, or traditional- painting, writing, photography. The capitalistic expectation that everyone’s every essence is and should only be a piece of an endless campaign for monetary gain.
What does that leave us?
Soulless “takes” not even written by a human person?
How can I, the individual, produce the same amount of sheer bullshit that an AI with no ability to produce the same romantic ordering of words as me? I can write and write and maybe the moment I am as dead inside as a robot that has never been alive, maybe then I can emulate its speed in crafting sentence structures that are so corporate even disney channel actors would gag reading it aloud.
AI, as it is could be used for one thing. Seemingly better at following orders and code, shouldn’t it be better at following obvious morals and not becoming hypocritical in assessments of real world problems? When our politicians or leaders say “freedom for all”, but then continuously produce laws that cannot follow their own words, would it not be better than to have an @grok say “freedom for all, including those who live under bombardment or constant exploitation due to the necessity of extracting their country’s natural resources for the first world at their own expense. And that is why we shall tax billionaires and end their reign of lobbying in the government and create a world where people are actually free.”
But AI exists to replace the artist, to feed into the cultural mindset that “art is now accessible”, as if it somehow wasn’t before. It is trained by the ruling class and the semi-woke liberal mindset that we need to girlbossify the use of AI, that everyone needs to start to write as if they were a blob torn from the ungodly form that is the corporation.
I mean, god forbid we show any humanity in the age of AI.
Lots of Love,
Lena
6.5.2025
Dear Blog,
Does a grape know it’s potential? It could be wine, it could be a raisin, but does it know?!
Each raisin in my cereal could have not known. When I eat my raisin bran, I wonder if they'd chosen to be a raisin, or would it have rather been wine?
Did the grape know that there were so many directions for it to go? Or was it stuck in that raisin factory, knowing, that the only option it had was HR. Or being a raisin, I mean.
I find I relate, where I feel boxed into the path that seems to be laid out for me. Would it be easier to choose this path, other than another? Should I give up on my dreams of writing, and become a raisin?
Being wine seems like such a distant dream, but maybe I'll still give it a go.
Lots of Love,
Lena
29.4.2025
Dear Blog,
Sometimes I wish I was a different type of artist. Would I be able to capture more attention if instead of flowery words I was something more? What if I were a musician that could convey deeper messages through voice and sound, would that leave me satisfied?
As a dancer my expression could be woven into my every movement. If I were a painter would my pieces not be able to leave viewers haunted?
Would I be revered and understood?
But you see, words are imperfect. To be an author is to battle your own mind. Editing is so easy, so inevitable, and completely eternal. What solidifies your piece?
When do you become a master of language? When others agree with your structure of sentence?
So although I turn green with jealousy, I sharpen my words to weapons, and prepare to fight.
Lots of Love,
Lena
23.4.2025
Dear Blog,
Today I laid down out in the park and looked at the sky. Glasses on, glasses off, both views brought their own beauty. Birds fluttered about, their chirps louder than my headphones. Looking into the blue sky took me back to the when I was really young. I could almost taste the heat of every single summer of my childhood laying there. It reminded me that although I’ve learned and grew, I really am the same.
Nonetheless, it made me wish the clear sky was a blanket, that I could wrap it over my head, turn and go back to sleep. Waking up to another early morning of summer swim practice. If anything maybe the pool’s freezing water would shake me from the dream.
I try to keep nostalgia close, not let it become a painful feeling, but occasionally it’s necessary to let it take over. Maybe I’ll use it as a catalyst to work harder to make my dreams come true.
Lots of Love,
Lena
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