Welcome to the Feed. Please Keep Your Sanity Inside the Vehicle.
In the age of hyper-personalization, algorithms know us better than we know ourselves — or at least, they think they do. One innocent scroll and suddenly you’re knee-deep in conspiracy cooking, Viking lifestyle tutorials, and ads for haunted mirrors.
Let’s take a stroll through an average day in the land of the machine-curated absurd.
☕ 8:03 AM – Coffee, Chaos, and Conspiracies
You unlock your phone, bleary-eyed and vulnerable. Instagram throws a reel your way:
👉 “7 Reasons Your Coffee Machine Might Be a Government Spy.”
You laugh. You scoff. You watch it twice. The algorithm nods approvingly: Ah, a coffee truther.
Next thing you know, you’re neck-deep in espresso-based paranoia and bean-to-cup whistleblowers. YouTube piles on with a 3-hour documentary:
🎥 “How the Roman Empire Invented Iced Lattes.”
You don’t even drink iced lattes. Doesn’t matter. The machine has decided your fate.
🪑 9:17 AM – The Shopping Spiral
You googled “standing desk” once. Now your Instagram feed looks like a Scandinavian furniture cult newsletter.
Etsy emails you: “Standing Desk Accessories for the Anxious Millennial.”
Amazon recommends a lumbar pillow shaped like a raccoon.
You consider it. Deeply.
Then it gets weird.
Facebook shows you a Kickstarter:
🚫 “Thinking of Standing More? Maybe It’s Time to Rethink Sitting Altogether.”
It’s for a wearable exoskeleton that makes chairs obsolete.
You didn’t click it. But the algorithm assumes you now identify as anti-furniture.
🌲 11:42 AM – The Niche Rabbit Hole
You liked one video of a guy cooking ramen in the forest.
Now TikTok believes you’re ready to live off-grid and bathe in moss.
Your feed devolves into:
- Ferrets eating jerky
- Men serenading logs
- Tutorials on how to make shoes from bark
Somewhere along the line, you become emotionally invested in a Finnish lumberjack named Kaarl who only eats raw fish and speaks exclusively in subtitles.
You ask: How did I get here?
The algorithm replies: Shhh… You’re home now.
⏳ 3:05 PM – Mid-Afternoon Existentialism
LinkedIn, not to be left behind, offers you this wisdom:
🧘 “10 Signs You Might Be Your Own Boss Without Knowing It.”
Written by a “Crypto Confidence Doula” who spells entrepreneur with a ‘z’.
YouTube autoplays:
📺 “Why Time Is a Capitalist Construct (And How You Can Opt Out).”
You nod. You believe. You delete your calendar app.
Then Instagram slaps you with a sponsored post:
🧦 “Discover Your Spirit Animal Through Socks!”
It’s otters.
It’s always otters.
🍖 6:49 PM – Dinner and Digital Dissonance
You open Swiggy/Zomato. Your food app knows.
Mukbang videos at midnight have spoken.
It offers:
🍗 “Craving 9,000 Calories of Korean BBQ?”
You say yes. With shame. And joy.
While you wait, Instagram reels suggest:
💪 “How to Get Abs Without Moving.”
You eat brisket and scroll harder.
🐈⬛ 10:17 PM – Doomscrolling and Digital Delirium
Twitter (X 🙄) is trending:
#QuantumPets
Apparently, cats are neither dead nor alive — just disappointed in you.
Meanwhile, Facebook Marketplace throws one last curveball:
🪞 “Possibly Haunted Mirror – Free if You Take It Tonight.”
You feel watched.
You start to suspect the algorithm is trolling you on purpose.
YouTube recommends “AI-powered anti-AI blockers.”
You think it’s satire.
It’s not.
💤 Midnight – Surrender
You finally hit play on the Roman Latte documentary.
Gregorian chants lull you into submission.
Your phone buzzes again:
👟 “Still interested in bark shoes?”
You don’t respond.
But it doesn’t matter.
The feed has already chosen tomorrow’s personality for you.
🧩 Final Thought
In a world where machines serve us our own tastes, we’ve somehow ended up consuming bark shoe tutorials and haunted mirror listings. Algorithms don’t really “know” you. They just throw things at the wall of your subconscious to see what sticks — and then sell the wall.
So here’s to personalized absurdity — modern culture’s new art form, wrapped in mystery and monetized by click.
Where sense goes to die, and satire is our last defense.
💬 Drop a comment if your algorithm also thinks you’re a left-handed Viking survivalist with gluten anxiety.
