deewrites

Jun 11, 2026

People’s worlds are so small. We consume millions of terabytes of data yet there would still be only a handful of memories left. Only a handful of moments where we once felt alive. Relived, again and again in the mind. They are etched so deep in the muscle that they might haunt us in our next life. We try to remember exactly how we felt in that exact moment. Simulating the scene. Emulating the emotion. Desperately holding onto that whimsical thread, hoping to feel even a fraction of that aliveness that we once felt.

While data comes in and goes out, the brain works unbothered on things like survival, food, and sleep. Procreation and recreation. Goals and dreams. Learning and thinking. Evolving and aging. It’s on autopilot. But behind the flick of an eyelid, in the laya, we go back to the very definition of us. What life means for us.

I want to live. I want to be in the center of the root that defines me. I want to make it into what I once thought with my whole being: this pure world. All of these other things I do are a waste of time.

– Spirited Deepam