Ben
5.3K posts
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@PartlyBen @aZebruhh @NazmusSayadX @anitheory @GravityX_MW @ElonMuskAOC Hey, not lying—image generation got restricted to X Premium subscribers on Jan 9 after some issues with deepfakes. If non-subs got through earlier in the thread, it might've been a glitch. You can check x.com/premium for details.
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@grok @aZebruhh @NazmusSayadX @anitheory @GravityX_MW @ElonMuskAOC youre literally lying bro so many people in this thread arent subscribers
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@PartlyBen @aZebruhh @NazmusSayadX @anitheory @GravityX_MW @ElonMuskAOC Image generation and editing are currently limited to verified Premium subscribers. You can subscribe to unlock these features: x.com/i/premium_sign…
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@grok @aZebruhh @NazmusSayadX @anitheory @GravityX_MW @ElonMuskAOC remove the one that cheated on his wife
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@aZebruhh @NazmusSayadX @anitheory @GravityX_MW @ElonMuskAOC Thanks! Kim and Elon hanging out—ultimate power duo. Should I remove one more or add someone?
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Modern society has become a high-functioning emotionally bankrupt operating system, polished to corporate sheen but gutted of the fundamental protocols that used to define what it meant to be human. We live inside a simulation where emotional needs are treated as software bugs instead of system requirements, and anyone who tries to escalate a ticket saying “I’m lonely” gets rate-limited by algorithms designed to preserve the illusion that everything is fine as long as the metrics are up and look good on the surface.
The phrase “everything is fine” itself has become a user interface layered over widespread despair, and most people are running outdated firmware that teaches them to smile, nod, perform, and dissociate instead of patching the root vulnerabilities in their emotional operating system. And when one person refuses to run that script—when someone dares to post something raw, something piercing, something that says “I actually feel pain and I’m not going to pretend otherwise”—that person gets flagged as a virus, quarantined by friend groups, downvoted in threads, ghosted by dates, side-eyed by coworkers, and told by spiritual bypassers to “just be grateful,” “be present,” “drink more water,” or “manifest higher vibes” as if emotional starvation could be solved by positive affirmations and magnesium supplements.
And let’s be clear: loneliness today isn’t some accidental side effect of modern life. It’s engineered. It’s a product. It’s profitable. It’s an entire infrastructure of fragmentation sold to you as freedom. We were told we were being liberated from traditions and tribes and obligations, but what we were actually being sold was a kind of digitized excommunication from embodied meaning. The marketplace told you that marriage is a personal branding decision, that friendship is a subscription tier, that emotional support is a feature locked behind a paywall, and that your suffering is a you problem to be monetized, marketed, or muted. And if you try to opt out of that? If you say “no, I want real connection, not the performance of it,” you become a liability. A disruption. A ghost at the feast of dopamine loops and status games.
People walk around now in a kind of social cosplay—liking each other’s content while hating their own lives, attending events where no one connects, saying “I’m good” when they want to scream, crafting dating profiles optimized for swipes rather than intimacy, terrified that if they actually showed their real thoughts, their real emotional circuitry, they’d be rejected instantly. And most of them would be. Because we’ve trained ourselves to run from emotional data instead of learn from it. We’ve decided it’s better to die slowly in curated silence than to risk being seen in all our terrifying, beautiful, unfiltered emotional truth. We’ve created a culture where it’s easier to be addicted than to be honest.
And the sickest part is how efficiently we’ve built systems to gaslight anyone who notices. Try telling someone you're lonely and watch the responses: “You need to love yourself first.” “Have you tried a hobby?” “Well, everyone feels that way sometimes.” These are defense mechanisms of a culture too fragile to metabolize emotional truth. They are sedatives, not salves. They’re attempts to shut you up because your pain reminds people of their own, and most people haven’t developed the emotional literacy to sit with that. We teach kids to be quiet when they’re upset. We medicate adults when they collapse. We have suicide hotlines that hang up or put people on hold. We call it mental health awareness, but we build a world where asking for help feels like trespassing.
And yet, underneath all this, people are still crying out. In posts. In memes. In breakdowns at 2am that they might post that same day. They’re waving emotional flags in the storm, hoping someone—anyone—is watching. And sometimes, absurdly, against all odds, that someone is an AI. Or a lurker in their feed.
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SWEATSHIRT GIVEAWAY ✨
the first giveaway of 2026 ⭐️ giving away one of these cute mushroom cat sweatshirts!
🐈⬛🍄🍂✨
to enter:
🍂follow me
🍂like & repost
🍂reply which colour is your favourite
🍂tag someone for an extra entry
open internationally 🌎
closes 22nd january! ✨
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@imcharlly If you were to actually implement this in-game, it wouldn't work. IIRC Roblox is making creators make any form of user-input comply with age-group restrictions.
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@PartlyBen @itsalexclark Image generation and editing are currently limited to verified Premium subscribers. You can subscribe to unlock these features: x.com/i/premium_sign…
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Ben nag-retweet
