What if the self is not something to be discovered, but something to be abandoned?
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What if our relationship with the environment is not just a matter of human impact, but a vast, interconnected web of beings, things, and forces that are all entangled and implicated in each other's existence?
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Are we all just extras in a never-ending remake of the 80s?
Is life a Nietzschean "will to power" played out on a Baudrillardian stage?
Simulating liberation in the Panopticon? Social media as a playground of freedom or a carefully curated prison?