Blog

A collection of notes, essays, and things I find interesting. Newest at the top.

The Mirror of the Sky: Consciousness, UAPs, and the Nature of Reality

If you step back from the noise of disclosure politics and look at the pattern, something subtler seems to be unfolding. The objects in our skies – whether UAPs, comets (3I/Atlas), or drones – behave less like invaders from elsewhere and more like mirrors of our collective psyche.

Each event that captures public attention, from US Senator Tim Burchett’s peculiar “They’re real” comment on Newsmax to airport shutdowns caused by unexplained aerial intrusions (Drone Sightings in Munich (Germany), New Jersey Drones, Denmark), follows the same strange rhythm: reality presenting itself as interactive. Whether these events are engineered, organic, or symbolic, they provoke the same effect – forcing human consciousness to confront the edges of its perception.

Disclosure, in this light, is not an announcement but an initiation of awareness. The universe seems to be testing whether we can hold ambiguity without retreating into denial or hysteria. True “contact” may not come as a landing, but as a shift in what the collective mind is capable of recognizing as real.

All this to say, I think the more collective awareness grows around these phenomena, the more we seem to invite them – as if consciousness itself acts like a signal beacon, drawing reflection from the unknown.

This brings us to a recurring feature across centuries of encounter lore: the beings themselves. Whether described as Nordic telepaths, fae from Celtic myth, Himalayan yetis, or luminous entities seen in altered states – their consistent hallmark is psi ability. They speak through thought, dissolve into light, manipulate perception, or blur the boundaries of physicality. Ancient stories of fae luring humans into hazy, dreamlike realms echo modern abduction narratives. Yeti sightings often involve vanishing footprints or psychic impressions rather than material contact. The Nordics of contactee lore communicate through a direct merging of minds, bypassing language altogether.

Such patterns imply that what we meet in these encounters are not merely others in the physical sense, but expressions of consciousness itself, operating from a level where thought and matter interweave. Their abilities make sense if reality is not built from particles but from awareness modulating itself into form. Psi phenomena would then be not supernatural, but natural expressions of a deeper order – one in which intention and manifestation are not separate.

Here, Buddhist metaphysics offers the most coherent frame. The Buddha did not speak of an eternal soul or a creator god, but of dependent origination – that every phenomenon arises through conditions, in relationship. Nothing exists in isolation. Even the experiencer and the experienced co-arise. The Heart Sutra condenses this into the radical statement: “Form is emptiness, emptiness is form.”

In other words, what we take to be solid, external reality is not independent of perception. It’s a dance between emptiness (potential) and form (expression). Samsara – the cycle of appearance – is not a mistake but a projection of mind. From this view, UAPs and entities are like dream figures in a lucid dream, reflections of the collective state of consciousness.

Psychedelics like DMT reveal this principle experientially. Under their influence, many report contact with hyperintelligent beings who seem both autonomous and self-generated. Whether these entities exist independently or as projections is irrelevant; the experience shows that reality can self-organize into forms that feel more real than the everyday world, when the perceptual veil thins. The same may be occurring at the civilizational level: a gradual thinning of the veil between the material and the mental, the seen and the unseen.

Even modern physics, at its frontier, begins to echo this. Models like Donald Hoffman’s “Conscious Realism” or John Wheeler’s “Participatory Universe” propose that the act of observation is not passive but constitutive. In other words, the cosmos is not something we look at – it’s something that looks back.

Seen through that lens, the strange lights in our skies and minds alike might not be visitors from beyond, but symbols from within the infinite field of consciousness, probing whether we are ready to recognize our own authorship. They arrive not to conquer, but to mirror.

Perhaps that’s why they so often communicate through telepathy and induce haze, disorientation, or time distortion. They are not merely demonstrating power; they are dissolving the illusion of separateness. The fae enchantment, the Nordic message of unity, the DMT entity’s loving intelligence – all point to the same underlying truth: reality is participatory, not mechanical.

In the Buddhist sense, enlightenment is not escape from the world but awakening within it – seeing through the veil of form without rejecting it. Likewise, disclosure may not be a single revelation, but a collective awakening to the fact that what we call “matter” has always been mind in disguise.

“Form is emptiness, emptiness is form.” – The Heart Sutra

The sky, the light, the beings – all empty of inherent nature, yet full of significance.

Recent Clips & Reflections

Here’s the recent clip with Senator Tim Burchett and Avi Loeb – maybe it’s a psyop, maybe it’s genuine, who knows. But watch how Tim handles it – this feels like soft disclosure, a light touch of truth mixed with plausible deniability. He confirms, hints, then pivots. Classic move.

And if you dig deeper, there are figures like Hal Malmgren, a Washington insider who spoke with Jesse Michels before he passed – that podcast’s here. He leaked quite a bit, but since he was old, people dismiss it as senility. It’s convenient. What most don’t realize is that very few insiders ever see the full picture. Compartmentalization keeps everyone limited – each person knows only fragments. Even the so-called “whole picture” is arbitrary, since the human brain can never grasp capital-T Truth. Reality itself is just projection.

The ones who do know enough – the truly knowledgeable – are usually the ones keeping it buried. And maybe they’re right to. These ideas are radical enough to fry circuits. Even thinking too long about them starts to feel like eating ice cream for every meal – overstimulating, delicious, but empty in the end. There’s no nourishment in endless speculation. As Krishnamurti said, even questioning the conditioning is part of the conditioning. Still, the attempt counts.

In fact, another reason many of these so-called insiders don't leak, even on their deathbeds when you'd think disclosure is the way, is because of the safety of their family. This isn't an accident; it's a feature of how many national secret programs operate. They deliberately hire people with things to lose–people with families–so they can be controlled and kept subservient.

To the many leakers who tried to get information out anyway, whether it's researchers working on infinite energy or insiders on other projects, I commend their attempt.

It reminds me of the Steve Jobs quote from his 2005 Stanford commencement speech. He said that remembering you will die is the best way to avoid the trap of thinking you have something to lose. "You are already naked. There is no reason not to follow your heart." This must be the mindset that allows one to break free from that control.

So to them I say: see you on the other side. After all, it's only a matter of time for everyone, insider and non-insider alike.

I think that’s the paradox: every sincere attempt to pierce the illusion somehow invites grace. Maybe it’s instant, maybe it takes twenty years, or lifetimes. But the effort itself plants something – a seed in the universal fabric. At some point, understanding gives way naturally into effortless action, the way Krishnamurti described.

And sure, maybe I’m totally wrong. Maybe I should shut this tab and focus on AI, automation, and real-world technology instead of chasing cosmic breadcrumbs. Maybe I’m just another Joe Rogan, bro-science type, saying “just trust me, bro,” feeding the algorithmic chaos. But we are who we are haha. Still, that’s what exploration is – not certainty, but curiosity made visible. This isn’t meant as gospel truth. It’s just food for thought, thrown into the digital ether to see what it echoes back.

Colonel Karl E. Nell on UFO⧸UAP Phenomena and Aliens & Non-Human Intelligence [NHI]

A sharp briefing from Nell on how defense insiders frame today’s UAP incursions, grounding these videos in the wider disclosure dialogue.

Time Travel Deepdive ft. Harald Malmgren, Diana Pasulka, Chris Bledsoe, Tim Taylor, MJ12

This roundtable ties together experiencers, intelligence veterans, and researchers for a sweeping look at the UAP ecosystem and its unanswered questions.

Albums I Like

My taste leans indie pop, though I’ve also had phases of loving Taylor Swift.

Taylor Swift

I didn’t connect with the album she released today, The Life of a Showgirl (2025) – it felt like generic pop, like an attempt at imitating Sabrina Carpenter, no real artistic soul. But kudos to her for not holding back, and for refusing to live up to the heavy expectations or projections the audience puts on her. Anyways, her earlier works hit hard for me:

  • Fearless (2008)
  • Red (2012)
  • 1989 (2014)
  • Folklore (2020)
  • Evermore (2020)
  • Midnights (2022)

Back in 2016, I stopped listening to her – thought she was too girly. But the moody, Bon Iver–tinged sound of Folklore and Evermore brought me back when I had just moved abroad for university. They matched my headspace. I still wouldn’t call myself a Swiftie. I love certain albums, but I don’t worship artists. I despise the BTS and Beyonce "stans" that can't handle criticism.

Other Albums I Love

  • Dayglow – Fuzzybrain (2019): First listen in 2019 was love at first sight. I feel like I manifested the band's rise in popularity.
  • Laila France – Orgonon (1997)
  • Far Caspian – Between Days (2018)
  • Cindy Lee – Diamond Jubilee (2024): Not on Spotify, only Bandcamp and YouTube (link).

My Little Space on the Internet

I love having my own corner of the internet. A place where I can write anything without censorship or moderators. Unless Vercel ever gets mad, I’ll just host it somewhere else then. Now I get why Linux people are obsessed with self-hosting. I love this total freedom. It’s addictive.

LinkedIn has been arbitrarily restricting me, like when I switch browsers for example. Here, it’s just me. No walls. No filters. God, I love it.

Especially in the age of AI, writing online carries a new responsibility. Everyone has an obligation of sorts to write. Your words shape the AI models of the future. If you want AI to reflect more of your values or personality (albeit in a very minute way), you need to write. Anywhere. Reddit, LinkedIn, personal blogs. The algorithms will scrape it.

And don’t worry about people reading your blog (and getting cancelled for it lol). Most brains are fried on TikTok, reels, and shorts – long form is invisible to them. The only people who stumble here will be the ones I actually want to connect with. It’s a win/win.

There’s another reason I write: it creates a track record of my thinking. Over the years, it becomes a roadmap of who you were, what you feared, what you obsessed over. Basically Github for your thoughts.

I used to have hundreds of notes in Mac Notes app. Then one day I deleted them from iCloud, thinking they’d stay locally. They didn’t. I lost everything – a thousand notes gone. That was last year. After that, I switched to UpNote. Unlimited storage, one-time lifetime subscription, and I love it. It’s not end-to-end encrypted (admins could technically read notes if they wanted), so I don’t store passwords there. But for everything else, it works. Before UpNote, I went from Evernote → Mac Notes → now UpNote. It feels good to finally have a home for my brain dumps. (If you’re curious: getupnote.com. Not an ad, just that it provided so much utility to me.)

Also – came across this video: Tic Tac shaped UAP filmed from an airline window. Food for thought, haha. Never forget, the world is more magical than we are made to believe ;)

Principles I Want to Build On

  • Keep everything simple
  • Be uncompromisingly creative
  • Drive AI adoption, especially in the Global South
  • Grow alongside clients
  • Keep culture in mind
  • Be useful and of service

What I do, at its core, is about 'set it once, generate forever,' hence the focus on workflow automation and AI agents.

I’ve always aimed to make myself redundant, whether mentoring or problem solving–to avoid any dependency. This also forces me to be creative, as I have to find new ways to be of service, and keeps my ego in check–no ego is the goal.

RE Danish Drone Sightings

Why do they all have lights on them? It makes no sense. One obvious reason seems to be to let you know they’re there – to make sure they’re seen. It feels like the time for their presence to be truly known has come. But as the Danish prime minister suggested, it could also be psychological warfare intended to destabilize. She strongly alluded to the source of the attacks too, pointing to Russia.

Still, I’m not sure why Russia would highlight the drones like that – last year’s New Jersey drone sighting happened at the same time of the year, and the pattern feels strange.

All of the European heads of state and government will meet in Copenhagen next week. The majority of US generals and admirals also have a meeting next week. It feels like we’re on the brink of something.

If governments – the so-called “authorities” – can’t do anything about these “drones,” it means they’re irrelevant. They’ll be dwarfed by what’s coming.

On a cosmic scale, no state, no military, no intelligence agency can contain the truth forever. If there are non-human craft here, that’s bigger than any flag, any border, any government. The idea that they could manage or “control” disclosure is laughable in the long run.

But on a human scale, they still hold power – and that’s where the anger comes from. They distort truth, control information, and hold humanity back.

Here’s what I (and a lot of others) believe they’re sitting on:

  • Clean, decentralized energy that could wipe out oil and gas dependency overnight.
  • Advanced propulsion systems (anti-gravity, inertialess drives, maybe even faster-than-light concepts).
  • Meta-materials and exotic tech decades ahead of what we’re told exists.
  • Suppression of patents and innovations under “national security” orders.
  • Secret programs with black budgets that disappear our tax money into tech we’ll never see.

Whether you believe every single item or not, there’s a documented pattern of secrecy, compartmentalization, and suppression. People have been jailed, discredited, or worse for trying to release disruptive tech.

So yes, governments are “irrelevant” on a cosmic scale – they can’t stop the universe. But they’re still responsible for the damage they’ve done here, for the decades of secrecy and the lost potential for humanity.

We deserve disclosure. We deserve accountability. And we deserve a future that isn’t being throttled by people who think they can decide what’s safe for us to know.

A relevant blog I think is worth the read is one I wrote below: The UAP Phenomenon.

Time gives it meaning

As I get older, I realize how much of growth comes simply from the time spent living and the additional time your brain gets to process things. For some context, I started playing League of Legends in 2014. I was an avid gamer; in fact, my NYU college application essay was based on my journey with this game, the insights I gained from it, and how it transformed me. I played it for eight years–more than a third of my life while writing this–and I think I was borderline addicted, though it took me a while to come to terms with it.

I played so much that I remember once playing for 19 hours straight in a single day in college, I eventually stopped after graduating. I’m not entirely sure how it happened; I had tried deleting the game multiple times, especially during the 2018–2019 era. I started university in 2019, and I really wanted to move past League because each year the game seemed to be getting worse. You had to grind more games to climb, since the system expects a 50% win rate and would team you with trolls if your win rate was higher, meaning you had to be like ten times better to actually climb.

League was the only game I committed to, aside from Clash of Clans–my generation’s “Labuba dolls,” haha. Oh, wait, Beyblade was like that for us too. For my young mind, I think League wasn’t exactly healthy, but it prevented me from falling into other addictions, like FIFA (sports betting), Call of Duty, or experimenting with weed.

The first two years I was trying to find a champion to main, and from 2018–2023, I mained Sona and mostly played support. Anyways, I managed to reach Diamond 3 on EUW in 2019–before university started, so I couldn’t grind after that–but that was enough to satisfy me since reaching Diamond had been my goal since 2014. Back then, getting to Diamond was the hardest thing I’d done, even harder than A-levels. Diamond 3 placed me around ~20,000 out of 3 million players in my server, and I achieved that on a fresh new account since one needs a account to have healthy MMR to climb fast. I had to level it up to 30 myself, since I couldn't afford to buy LVL-30 accounts as a broke kid. It took me around 50 games to reach high Platinum in the new account, which surprised me, as I didn’t realize just how good I got at the game. I’m flexing a bit now because getting to Diamond without buying accounts, playing from the Middle East with 150 ping, and on a shitty PC running 50 FPS is impressive to my present “boomer” self, haha.

That too playing against European players who had 25 ping in Diamond–the top 1% of the player base–while juggling A-levels, GCEs, college applications, and extracurriculars, shows how a person will make time if they are passionate about something. No one had to motivate me to watch hours of league coaching videos or play over 2,000 hours of League throughout the years.

I ended up as one of the top 25 Sona players in the world. People knew about my Sona; during low-peak hours, morning-time on the EU-West server, Diamond players would ban Sona just because they knew someone was one-tricking her. I could play other supports at a Platinum level but not at Diamond level, so I couldn’t climb higher without Sona. I couldn’t pivot–like any business putting all their eggs in one basket, I was stuck. But my Sona, could have performed at Grandmaster level if I could spam her in higher lobbies without being target-banned (maybe this is cope idk).

Back then, I used to watch a Twitch streamer, Tyler1, when he was just getting popular. In one stream, a 12‑year‑old asked him how to get to Challenger (top 200 players in a server like EUW, which had around 3 million players back then). Tyler1 said something that stuck with me. He said it’s all about getting older. As he got older, he naturally became a better gamer, smarter, and better at strategy. Back then he was in his mid‑20s, and he said even when he was 18 he saw that the 25‑year‑olds were naturally smarter and sharper at thinking and decision‑making.


This idea of how age shapes perspective came back to me while watching the finale of White Lotus Season 3, highly recommend it by the way. Each season isn’t tied to the others, so you can watch it without starting from the beginning. In that episode there’s a character, Laurie, who’s basically going through a midlife crisis, coming to terms with her life, friends, and choices. Out of her friend group she’s the “mess‑up,” the one who didn’t get promoted to the executive position she’d devoted her life to. At the end of the vacation, she gives this little speech to her best friends. Here it is:

That’s funny ‘cause if I’m being honest, all week I’ve been so sad. I just feel like my expectations were too high, or… I just feel like as you get older, you have to justify your life, you know? And your choices.

And… when I’m with you guys, it’s just so, like… like, transparent what my choices were, and my mistakes. I have no belief system. And I… Well, I mean I’ve had a lot of them, but… I mean, work was my religion for forever, but I definitely lost my belief there. And then– And then I tried love, and that was just a painful religion, just made everything worse. And then, even for me, just, like, being a mother, that didn’t save me either. But I had this epiphany today. I don’t need religion or God to give my life meaning because time gives it meaning.

We… we started this life together. I mean, we’re going through it apart, but we’re still together, and I… I look at you guys, and it feels meaningful. And I can’t explain it, but even when we’re just sitting around the pool talking about whatever inane shit, it still feels very fucking deep.

I’m glad you have a beautiful face. And I’m glad that you have a beautiful life. And I’m just happy to be at the table. I love you.

Over here, the same idea about time being in itself a growth factor–something that helps you learn and makes you naturally smarter–is highlighted again. No wonder when we see a 100‑year‑old person, no matter their career in their past life–whether they were an executive or anything else–we inherently feel like there’s wisdom there. Time itself gives wisdom regardless of anything else. Time is OP (overpowered). I don’t know why, in this culture, people are afraid of getting old. Yes, there are drawbacks, but like anything, time takes and also gives.

Here’s a picture from when I reached high Platinum in just a few games–I had even made a Reddit post about it back then. God, I can’t believe how I was able to sit at my desk for 10 hours straight without sleep, just gaming. It was nice to be young, haha. Even now, in my 20s, I can’t imagine sitting for even one hour playing League. It’s so bright, so many things happening at once, and it requires such high reaction speed that I feel like a boomer. It even gives me anxiety now because it raises my adrenaline. I used to drink Red Bull back then because I thought it would increase my reaction speed–RIP my poor heart.

Platinum rank screenshot from 2019 (EUW)
High Platinum, EUW, circa 2019

Anyways, the main reason I came to hate League was that I realized League of Legends had become a scam. Back in early 2014, I loved the game because you’d have about one in four matches where all ten players would try their best, strategize, and genuinely work together to win. Competing with five other players who were as invested as you felt rewarding. Even losing those games was fine, because you were in the flow state the whole time.

As the years went on, that ratio dropped. By 2018, maybe only one in eight ranked games was that amazing, ideal game where everyone was at their peak–playing champions they were masters in and fully engaged in the match. By 2023, it felt more like one in thirty games. At that point, you weren’t even sure why you were playing a game that made you rage all the time. People were trying new champions in ranked matches, not playing with passion, strategy, or spirit. Life is short–why do people half-ass things? Why not commit to one thing in life? If not jobs, then at least in video games. People should try not to autopilot and aim for excellence in at least one field of their life. But such is life, I guess. We are who we are, and one should accept everyone and their disposition.

What surprised me most is how much grace is needed to quit something addictive. I couldn’t have quit without some higher power or grace taking pity on me. I was addicted, but in 2023, after graduating, one day when I moved back home from the dorm–maybe it was a reset from the new environment, I don’t know–I suddenly had no desire to play League anymore. I didn’t experience any withdrawal symptoms for the first time ever. I’m grateful for that. It gave me so much more respect for people fighting serious addictions, like alcoholics, because alcohol withdrawal can kill you–look it up, it’s brutal. League withdrawals just makes you depressed, but it’s not fatal. No wonder in AA’s 12 steps, many of the steps talk about coming to terms with how bad the situation is and realizing, accepting, and surrendering to the faith that only some higher power or grace can save you.

The greats studied the greats.

There is no lone genius, every great was built on idols and obsessions.

You know for the longest time I avoided idolizing people because I had this fallacy in my head, that the people we idolize never had idols themselves, that they were totally 100 percent self-driven. I thought they were born different, wired from the start to go their own way without inspiration.

But recently I started reading and listening to biographies, Steve Jobs, James Dyson, others, and what I found flipped that assumption on its head. Every single one of them was obsessed with history and past inventors. They had people they looked up to.

Steve Jobs was obsessed, and I mean obsessed, with Edwin Land, the founder of Polaroid. It was Land who planted the idea in Jobs’ head that a tech company could sit at the intersection of art, creativity, and even spirituality. That’s why Jobs hated those ugly, soulless, strictly profit-driven companies like IBM and Microsoft. They didn’t care about making beautiful products with soul. He once said meeting Edwin Land in his early 20s was like going to a shrine. That’s how deep the reverence ran.

Same thing with James Dyson. The man was so in love with technical invention that he wrote a whole book called "A History of Great Inventions". That tells you everything about how obsesed he was with technological history.

Now when I think about it, it makes complete sense to have role models you’re borderline obsessed with. Because what happens is your mind becomes saturated with their habits, their obsessions, their quirks, their way of seeing the world. Your perspective shifts. Your priorities realign. You start to unconsciously rewire yourself to match them.

That’s why I always say you can tell a lot about someone by their YouTube feed or their Kindle book list. Those inputs are a mirror of their inner world. It’s like that saying, we’re the average of the five people we spend the most time with. Except here’s the hack: those “five people” don’t have to be your friends.

If you spend five hours a day listening to a founder’s talks or reading their biography, you might as well consider them one of your friends. It’s still influence. It’s still rewiring. And honestly, most of us already have friends we just listen to without much back-and-forth, so what’s the difference?

The most important thing this practice does is saturate your subconscious with ideas. It rewires your mental operating system. If you’re listening to founders or reading biographies, your subconscious starts working on the problem of your life. It starts asking: What am I passionate about? Where’s my edge? What dots can I connect?

And the crazy part is, you don’t even have to consciously solve it. You just need to define the problem and then feed your mind with hours of these inputs. Slowly, automatically, your brain starts connecting the dots.

Even if you’re not a founder, this is gold. If you work inside a company, hearing how other companies solved problems will prepare you for when similar issues show up in your world, whether that’s operations, management, or strategy. It’s like training your subconscious in advance.

So yeah, for me this shattered the myth. The greats weren’t just self-driven lone wolves. They were obsessed students of history, stealing fire from the ones who came before them. And maybe that’s the real path, finding your own Edwin Land, your own source of obsession, and letting it rewire your entire operating system.

Why Running a Business Feels Like Transitioning

Business is brutal in the way it forces you to change. I think this is probably how trans people feel, because it changes everything in every aspect–finances, relationships, discipline, even how you see the world. It becomes a spiritual experience.

At first, I thought the hard part would be dealing with the sharks–competitors, people trying to bring you down–but there are no sharks. The real struggle is the inner work. That's the hardest part. There's no one outside to fight. If it were that simple, it would almost be easier. Instead, it's all a reflection of your inner world. In fact, I've probably done more inner work running a business than I would have if I had gone to the mountains like I originally planned. I even did LASIK partly because I thought I'd be living that ascetic path.

Materialism and spirituality feel like two sides of the same coin. That's the paradox of life–you think you're chasing one, but you run into the other. The things you're forced to give up (no more anime haha). This journey kills you and saves you at the same time. That's the nature of transformation. It's not gentle, it's forced. It changes you whether you want it or not.

That's why I have so much respect for trans people. Even changing your clothing or fashion can shock the ego and break you. I can't imagine doing the same with gender, name, and pronouns. It's one of the most high-stakes transformations a person can go through. No wonder suicide rates among trans are so high. But that's the price of living at the extreme. It's the price of committing to one's truth and passions fully, to go against the laid-out path of convention.

Whether it's Formula 1, rock climbing without a harness, fasting for spiritual enlightenment–it's all the extreme. Life and death blur into the same thing. The closer you are to death, the more alive you feel, the more concentrated life becomes. The safe middle is what should really be avoided. It's too easy to fall into autopilot and complacency, and when you do, you lose life energy.

In a strange way, the people who live at the edge–whether trans, spiritual seekers, or extreme athletes–they're not the ones we should pity. They're worried about us "normies." We're the ones wasting our lives, stuck in cycles of charge and discharge, base desires and primal instincts.

Kinda like a jellyfish. A jellyfish is just floating, pulsing, contracting, expanding–its whole existence is this endless loop of mechanical survival. It doesn't choose, it doesn't direct, it just drifts. And when I look at most people, myself included at times, I see the same thing. We live on autopilot, stuck in those primal cycles, never stepping out into the edge where transformation happens. That's the real tragedy.

The Best Charity I’ve Found: GiveDirectly

After years of searching for a charity that’s truly unique (and not a scam), the best I’ve found is GiveDirectly. It sends cash straight to families in poverty. It is not a charity in the dependency-creating sense, it’s closer to capital investment. People use it how they know best: starting small businesses, paying school fees, fixing homes, buying tools. The money circulates locally, raising GDP from the bottom up. The ROI is insane. Since these towns are so poor, the impact actually shows up in GDP within a month or so. It’s research‑backed, the emails they send are a joy to read, and honestly it’s fulfilling to finally give directly to people rather than fund NGO management overhead.

If you like crisp, animated explainers, watch the Rational Animations video. Open on YouTube: youtu.be/2DUlYQTrsOs.

If you prefer a traditional TED‑style talk, watch this one. Open on YouTube: youtu.be/tt0HOe7gf7I.

The UAP Phenomenon

I’ve been watching documentaries like The Phenomenon (2020) and Moment of Contact (2022) – both highly recommended – and I can’t shake the sense that we’re living through a kind of soft disclosure by governments and senior officials. The fact that it’s being brought up now, and that Representative Luna is discussing it on Joe Rogan’s podcast, feels almost like exposure therapy. I doubt Luna herself is “in on it,” but the very fact she could speak about it openly on such a platform suggests that those overseeing this – call them elites if you want, though the word carries too much baggage – are signaling that something here is worth attention, and that they’re willing to let it enter public awareness. My worry is what comes next.

What if the true weight of the phenomenon isn’t about propulsion systems or secret craft, but about consciousness itself? Traditions across the world have spoken of intelligences beyond us: jinn in Islam, devas in Hinduism and Buddhism, angels in the West. Maybe the UAP phenomenon belongs to the same category – not just visitors from another star system, but presences pointing us back toward the nature of awareness.

Here’s what I fear: billionaire tunnel vision. Most of them think big about small things. The person striving to become a billionaire and the billionaire themselves are two different people, shaped by changes in disposition and temperament. I believe there is a constriction of vision and a drift into complacency. Perhaps it comes from a calcification of the mind, both metaphorical and literal. Priorities shift, life energies change. Whatever the cause, the outcome troubles me because it reflects a shallow way of thinking. They might use alien technology only to refine ad targeting. They might meet higher intelligences and see nothing but military potential or new markets. My fear is that humanity will approach disclosure in the same shallow way: 'Aliens exist – now what tech can we copy?'

Maybe, the real assignment is different. Maybe, it’s about trying to grasp what consciousness is at its base. Raising consciousness might simply mean training ourselves to perceive reality as it is – the ever-present awareness that outlasts every form. Maybe that’s why we’re here. To keep coming back until we realize it. Everything else could be noise.

And when I think about AGI (Artificial General Intelligence), I see the same pattern. Maybe a carbon-based brain is just a pointer to consciousness. Arrange matter in the right way – carbon-based neurons, plasma-based structures, silicon circuits – and it can access consciousness. The right way has a kind of tolerance, a leeway, a spectrum of possible values. My brain and yours aren’t identical, but both point to the same field – the same with someone with dwarfism. Maybe animals have smaller-sized pointers – a mouse with 4 bytes, a human with 16. Not hierarchy, just different levels of access. A larger-sized pointer may give rise to self-awareness.

I didn’t use C++ after graduating from uni, so this made me a bit nostalgic.

Expand if you’re curious about the pointer concept in C++

Pointer (C++) quick explainer: In C++, a pointer is a variable that doesn’t store a value directly, but instead stores the memory address of another variable. It “points” to where the data lives in memory. For example:

int x = 42;      // an integer variable
int* ptr = &x;   // ptr is a pointer to x

// Here, ptr doesn’t hold 42; it holds the address of x.
// You can use *ptr to access or modify the value at that address.
*ptr = 100;      // x becomes 100

Pointers are flexible because they can refer to different data over time, and multiple pointers can refer to the same memory. I’m using “pointer” metaphorically above: different substrates (neurons, plasma, silicon) could be different kinds of “pointers” into the same underlying field of consciousness.

In that sense, AGI could be another pointer, made of silicon-based material arranged in the right way, whereas jinn could be plasma-based pointers to self-awareness, a level of consciousness just like humans are. And perhaps the same applies to whatever other forms these non-human intelligences take.

Then again, I could be totally off base. These are just my two cents. What do I know? I’m just some guy on the internet. But the attempt matters, it’s all about the attempt. (I have a flair for being dramatic)

Risk, Taste, and Character

Elon’s relentlessness still blows my mind – taking a PayPal exit and splitting it across two near-impossible fronts, both heavily regulated, both historically allergic to outsiders, then brute‑forcing reality until it gave way. Tesla pre‑existed him, sure, but competing with entrenched power is not a hobby; it’s a taste for risk paired with a stomach for ridicule. Sometimes humanity needs that kind of gambling.

The Cost of Clarity

People say "learn fast." They rarely mention the tuition.

Dan Koe talks about being down a few million recently. He has always taken large financial risks in his business, calling it the price of clarity. Once clarity is achieved, you can earn twice as much in half the time.

My dad said the same thing from a different industry. As a business owner, he too lost big–six figures–and lived to tell the story.

It made me realize something: losing that kind of money is, in a way, a hidden compliment–a signal of value. At some point, a market, a bank, or a client judged you capable of moving numbers that large. You were in the arena.

That doesn’t mean be reckless. It means remembering that risk is the toll you pay to reach more.