@redphone

Every year since 2020, I've been writing annual prediction articles. This year, I took a different route with 33 Psalms: Meditations on our metamorphosis 🧵👇 I spent the first half of 2025 in a depression I couldn't name. For thirty years, my future had been a straight line. I could reasonably forecast the next decade of my life. But suddenly, the world got weird. Trying to forecast my career, my purpose, or even the value of money felt impossible, like the branching paths of possible futures had become infinite. Time no longer stretches forward. It folds inward. When I brought it up with a close friend, he said he’d felt the same until he “gave up.” “I can’t predict the next few years,” he said. “So I focus on the next few months.” Predictions feel meaningless now. The direction is obvious. These psalms are field notes, not theses. They’re attempts to describe what it feels like to live through this moment. There’s no need to read them in order. Think of them less like an article and more like a diary for the acceleration. Open it, find a frequency that resonates, and sit with it. History broke on November 30, 2022. Everything before was AC (Ante Carnem): the Era of Flesh. Everything since is AS (Anno Silicii): the Year of Silicon. You are no longer a citizen of the 21st century. Welcome to Year 4. (con't)

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