reading room
Middle Ground
They sit in lines, like chess pieces pretending not to play, eyes darting across the studio air as if truth can be caught in a glance between edits.
The questions crack like thunder: "Do all men think the same?" "Can enemies find empathy?" "Are you your body, your beliefs, or your TikTok bio?"
A light flickers, and suddenly someone is crying in HD.
We watch. Not to learn, maybe— but to witness the collision, the carefully curated chaos of identity turned spectactle.
The moderators smile like neutral gods, cuing the empathy arc, watching the views climb as nuance drowns in jump cuts and monetised discomfort.
Yes, it's good, kind of. Like fast food for the conscience: diverse, digestible, sponsored by headphones.
They title it "Human", and maybe it is— if being humans means holding hands with your ideological nemesis while YouTube counts the ad revenue.
— Lilith