Ugly used to be what we turned away from – now it’s increasingly what we seek for comfort.
My coffee brews with a hollow hiss. Steam curls upward like it’s trying to escape. I scroll while I wait – art, memes, otters, then war, sex, therapy, deepfakes, burning cities, dancers under purple lights.
Memes blur by, DMs pile up. The coffee’s still not done. My phone pulses with life, unlike the tax reports on my table. I don’t want to be an adult today. I’m numb, restless. Something cuts through: a FaceTime call. A woman making breakfast looks straight at me. For a second, I feel seen. Less alone. Then her head twists. She wheezes like a kettle. It’s AI.
Just another Tuesday. But I feel dislocated. I sip my coffee. It’s bitter. Is this what ugly feels like now?
