
It took me some 45 days after Mamaia so I wouldn’t feel it anymore. Most trying to understand you. I made various assumptions to create a story that my mind would be comfortable with, and thus give me some peace.

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It took me some 45 days after Mamaia so I wouldn’t feel it anymore. Most trying to understand you. I made various assumptions to create a story my mind would be comfortable with, and thus give me some peace. You didn’t look good in that story, as I searched for or elaborated and talked with friends about narcissism and emotional responsibility. I then visited your country in August, found some resemblance of behavior, and things made more sense. My friend and I now joke that you folks are all a bit autistic.

My mind took a good break from you soon after the last time you spoke to me, but while being in Stockholm, my heart would skip a beat every time I’d see someone with the same tan, height, and hairstyle—not few. I don’t like to admit but I hoped we would meet spontaneously. This trip brought your specter back to my mind, now with no hard feelings, but almost as vivid. I always wonder if it’s a real version of you—spooking or seducing me—or just an illusion.

A few more months later, through all the people I met this year whom I inevitably projected hints of what happened with us, and some incredible and surprisingly dense journey of (self) discovery—funnily facilitated by a YouTube fitness coach from Gotland—I feel like what I had with you has now come full circle where I now find myself in your shoes, not in exact similarity but with the same meaning.

It’s interesting to experience the other side. I wonder if you knew that I'd eventually go through the same, but of course you just didn’t care explaining—or doing anything. I then recognized the same traits—that I would attribute to your behavior—in myself, while also feeling entitled and confident to be so, in certain situations, to my own well-being.

I started writing this a while ago as a journal entry, but formatted as a letter. Something brought me back to finish it, and in my eternal attempt to further embarrass myself, I guess you’d enjoy reading this. I wish this was a physical letter but imagine me asking for your address!

Time did make it fade but I still can’t help seeing you as someone special. The lack of reciprocity steers me away from feeling you, but it does come, in waves, from time to time.


Letter to Caroline


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I recently installed WhatsApp again when I found myself in need of finding a place to live in a foreign country within a 30-day window. I tried using Telegram, iMessage, or SMS, but people just wouldn't answer me or would ask to move the chat to WhatsApp.

I got the place, but now the real estate agent and the landlord had chats with me, and it felt inconvenient to explain to them to contact me elsewhere. I met other new people, and you can guess the default app where we would start a chat. For every new person, it becomes harder to ignore it.

I now find myself using 3 messaging apps and having to keep mental notes on where to message each person. I've seen one solution that aims to solve this issue by grouping all services in one app, while everyone else can keep using whatever they prefer. It doesn't solve the root cause, and I'd prefer not to keep accounts on all chat apps—plus one.

I'm all for free enterprise, but I don't like the idea of one company having almost complete ownership over the main communication medium between the majority of people. That seems to be the case for WhatsApp and Meta, which is so prevalent almost everywhere.

We could dive deeper on all kinds of matters that revolve around this subject, but a solution I've been excited for is RCS, especially with the support introduced on iOS 18. The protocol exists for a while, but it hasn't been adopted by Apple until recently.

All nice RCS features aside, what I like the most is that each company or developer can build their apps on top of it while maintaining the ability to talk to apps from other parties that implement the same protocol—like email. So even if the majority of people would decide to use a certain app, the company who owns it would have less control, and the tech choice of the majority wouldn't submit individuals who are more opinionated with theirs.

iOS 18 finally arrived, but it came as a surprise that my current carrier in Italy didn't support RCS. Apple supposedly introduced RCS on iOS 18 due to pressure from the EU's Digital Markets Act (DMA). However, none of the carriers in Europe seemed to support RCS by the time iOS 18 came out, and they are not even in the scope of the DMA, so they are not legally required to provide the necessary infrastructure to enable interoperability between messaging apps, as sought by the regulators.

Now, two months later, 16 carriers are listed as supporting RCS, but some countries are still left with no support at all. I want to make the jump as soon as I have a supportive carrier near me, but not all of my contacts might have it by then. Messaging apps can always fall back to SMS, but the overall success of such change will ultimately depend on the network effect.


Protocols are greater than apps


I deactivated my Instagram account circa 2019. I remember at the time being concerned about my mind and behavior getting shaped by the platform, as the line between real life and social media started to blur.

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I deactivated my Instagram account circa 2019. I remember at the time being concerned about my mind and behavior getting shaped by the platform, as the line between real life and social media started to blur.

Recently, though, some childhood memory urged me to reach someone that I couldn’t find elsewhere, and as a reflex, I installed the app and reactivated my account. Being back for a few moments made me realize I took a significant turn, socially, when I quit.

When logging in, I immediately felt this sensation that “things are happening here on Instagram”, and it felt very real and natural. It was like I’ve been isolated in an island for a long time and then dropped into a big party where I know almost everyone. Those people have been partying nonstop for years.

It’s funny to think that things are happening _there_, and not _here_. Presence might be a scarce asset, and that might explain the lack of it in some places in real life.

I was very careful not to scroll through anything and get sucked in, but I got a glimpse of a couple faces in the stories row and the messages list. I was confused. The faces looked familiar but I couldn’t remember who they were. That made me extremely curious so I visited their profiles, and eventually remembered who they were: acquaintances that I met somewhere in life who simply are not part of my life anymore—for this one in particular, we just happened to work in the same office, but never really talked. Seems like our brains naturally forget things that don’t matter anymore, but the platform will keep them forever in your digital mind.

I reached my childhood memory person, and she promptly responded. It felt so easy and effortless, considering that we don’t see or talk for more than 20 years.

My mind got all fired up and it felt like I smoked crack. I had my little interaction and then deactivated my account again. I found myself shocked with the brief revisit to that place. I then came up with this Red Pill (from The Matrix) analogy.

> The **red pill** and **blue pill** represent a choice between the willingness to learn a potentially unsettling or life-changing truth by taking the red pill or remaining in the contented experience of ordinary reality with the blue pill

[Red pill and blue pill](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Red_pill_and_blue_pill)

Real (social) life can often be hard, ugly, lonely, slow, empty or boring. But quite rewarding if you put the effort.

Instagram is incredibly appealing. It allows quick and effortless connection in a controlled and safe, comfortable and stimulating environment. In fact, I felt good seeing those familiar faces, and some part of me wanted to be active on the platform again, as it definitely enables social connection. But I feel like _it is all an illusion_, and it has a toll on your mental health.

I have used other forms of social media, like Strava, and have consumed content in platforms like YouTube. But Instagram incorporated too much of the social engagements, at least for my generation and circles, and it seems like the human minds adapted very well to it to the point of changing how people see the world, their interactions and experiences, thus effectively transforming our reality.


The Social Red Pill

A poem

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Decaffeinated coffee

Electronic cigarette
 
Non-alcoholic beer
 
Gluten-free bread

Virtual reality
 
Electric car
 
Acrylic nail

Indoor bike
 
Vegan meat

Dating app

Artificial intelligence

A living edge-case building and navigating systems to handle myself.

Creator of web experiences at [Quartzo](https://quartzo.studio), [amateur cyclist](https://www.strava.com/athletes/17408874), [photographer](https://photo.dlbn.co), and <s>digital nomad</s> high-tech gypsy.

An app to track bike components, their maintenance cycles and lifespan

geer

Map design tool for creating beautiful, high-res, publishable route maps and visualizations for sports events

Co-creator

Open source

Letter to Caroline

Protocols are greater than apps

The Social Red Pill

Artificial intelligence