Let's be honest: we've all felt, from time to time, that feeling that the planet has entered "reality show scripted by a tired intern" mode. But lately… it's escalated. And it wasn't even slow. It was on roller skates, downhill, with the fire in its wake.
Don't get me wrong—the world has always had its strange phases. But when the most talked-about topic in an entire country is Virgínia's separation from Zé Felipe… something has gotten lost along the way. Gone are the days when people discussed politics, economics, or at least… I don't know, a new version of cookie cake. Now, celebrity relationship dramas are treated more seriously than the state budget.
Then we have... the adults who decided to raise dolls as if they were their children. Literally. Dolls with names, nap times, and even strollers to take to the park. And mind you: we're not talking about children playing—we're talking about people with bills to pay and taxes to file. They say it's "therapeutic." I call it "the world as a Black Mirror episode written by Toy."
And since we're talking about questionable behaviors... there's a new eating trend that has left me genuinely speechless: biting into butter. Yes, butter. The kind that comes in a stick. The kind that comes in a pocket snack. Who needs chocolate when you can indulge in a cube of pure fat? Guys... go check if it's okay, okay?
But perhaps what best symbolizes this peculiar phase of humanity is the phenomenon of easy fame. These days, you're more likely to see someone with 300,000 followers because they dance and point to calories... than because they share scientifically based information. You know, that thing called knowledge ? It seems to be out of fashion.
And in the midst of all this, the algorithm smiles. Healthy, strong, fueled by controversy, bodies without visceral fat, and videos of people shouting "Say you're fit without saying you're fit."
We've reached the point where only a complete reset can save this. Like CTRL+ALT+DEL on the planet. Erase everything, format, and start from scratch. Maybe next time we won't invent the "pampering butter" and influencers of the apocalypse.
But until the reset arrives... let's just keep watching. And laughing. Because if we don't laugh, we'll cry. And there are already too many tears in the feed.