A moment in psychedelic or weed trip, when you eventually encounter a mirror and look into your eyes to check how red they are, or how wide pupils are, and optionally end up standing there, staring and thinking about who or what you are, what counciousness is, what human is, what reality is, and other questions about Universe.
Yesterday I've been stuck on red eye checkpoint for a five minutes straight, and ended up showing myself middle finger.
The grindset is a contemporary ideology of self-exploitation disguised as strength, deeply tied to the aesthetics of the “sigma male” and to new digital forms of patriarchy. It promotes the idea that human worth depends on productivity, economic success, absolute emotional control, and the ability to work endlessly, turning vulnerability, rest, community, and tenderness into signs of weakness. Beneath its rhetoric of discipline and power often lies a profound inability to relate healthily to pain, fragility, and human interdependence.
“That’s the grindset, brother. While weak men sleep and complain, sigma males stay disciplined, work in silence, suppress emotions, and build power while everyone else wastes time chasing comfort.”