Most people live in a state of unresolved conflict. The system is designed to grind people down and prevent them from thinking for themselves, from being free. Because that makes you dangerous. They want people who do what they’re told, who question nothing, and above all who don’t even see what’s unfolding before their own eyes, because it would be too hard to bear.

The system puts intense pressure on you so that you don’t actually get to choose how you want your life to be organized. Here we’re talking about systemic and psychological violence. The brutality of the modern world and its coldness.

When you take up more space than the system is willing to grant you, you’re rejected as quickly as possible. Society needs people who are extinguished, who have neither lucidity nor honesty. I’ve seen these people in the workplace, waiting for retirement to do what they should have done in their twenties. Or in schools, wasting their time waiting to be given the opportunity to do what they love because they don’t have the courage to face the uncertainty and solitude necessary for independence and autonomy.

Many of them confuse patience with wisdom, but they’re merely rationalizing their inability to act, and when they no longer have time to act, they’ll end up accepting that it’s the end, they’ll soon be gone. And that’s where the violence lies.

The market expects many things from you, and you will distinguish yourself not by responding to the demands of the market and society, but by creating your own unique path. If you’re creating for others and not for yourself, then I can guarantee you that your work, though it seems to provide value to some extent, will quickly be forgotten and you’ll only be valued for the quasi-mechanical maintenance of a system that doesn’t want you to leave it. But this only becomes apparent over long time scales.

And that’s the distinction: are you a drop of oil in an already well-maintained system, or are you a builder of systems, one who will redefine what is perceived as true or beautiful?

Ask yourself questions if you’re adapted to the current market: it means your work is entirely dependent on external validation. This is, for me, an enormous weakness. The system privileges risk aversion and passes it off as “quality.” It’s cowardice: because calculated risk is what has led to all the greatest ideological, technological, and economic revolutions. The people who knew how to defend their will because they firmly believed in their ideas have sometimes been those whom history validated despite everything else.

Thus, for me, the fear of failure is weaker than the fear of a life dictated by others and the system. Living with the consequences of never having tried to see what my projects, my ideas would yield would be the ultimate punishment, yet one that many people voluntarily inflict upon themselves.

It’s not about destroying everything without purpose, but about reshaping the architecture and knowing where we’re heading.

I don’t want to produce forgettable work. Because I know deeply that it’s one of the greatest regrets of people at the end of their lives: they spent all their time living for others, for companies, for the system, constantly pushing back — either through mediocrity or lack of courage — the things they really want to do.

I’m not here to save these people. I want to do what pleases me, what seems right to me, and what I dream of accomplishing. There’s no point in dreaming if you can’t live to realize your dreams. I’m here not to become one of them.