Every few months, a new list tells you what's worth buying. You skim it. You recognize nothing. You close the tab.
This isn't boredom. It's something else.
You remember when there was a magazine you actually read. Not for the recommendations — for the voice. Someone with opinions. Someone who assumed you were intelligent and busy and uninterested in being sold to. You read it the way you'd listen to a friend who had figured something out.
That's gone now. What replaced it is content. Beautiful, optimized, meaningless content. You scroll past it the way you scroll past everything.
And somewhere along the way, you started to wonder if the problem was you. If you'd become too picky. Too hard to please. If maybe you just didn't care about things the way you used to.
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