Something I hate about modern architecture is the brutalist profit optimization apparent in systems

They reduce those who use the facilities to simple functions.

Restaurants start feeling like feeding areas for cattle.

I feel like I’m being herded and shipped off on trains and buses.

I don’t feel human

I get disgusted at those who blankly stare into the distance as they fulfill whatever function the “place” assigns to them

So I sway, dance a little while eating

I overreact a little to everything I see, hear, taste, feel

I want to signal I’m here

That I’m simply here not just because of the main function

That I’m here because I chose to be there, in that place, despite anything

Like I never really articulated this, because at first, I thought I was being racist, or being disgusted at poor people.

No - I’m simply terrified at how people just submit themselves to systems. Like we’re already in pods.

I think I uncovered the uneasy truth that I feel especially strongly in Japan.

In the west, corporate designs barely function.

They get the portions wrong, they miss the timings, the manager is angry, the staff has an inside joke about him looking like a rotten mango.

In the US, Europe (especially the Romantic areas), Russia.

They talk flat, react if you say something funny or off script, and generally give zero shits about what corporate wants you to do.

People brawl at Waffle House not by design, but because Waffle House locations can be found in rougher, cheaper areas.

Things just get rowdy.

Protests and strikes are rampant.

The “ignore the crazy dude” rule in New York is barely followed. You talk to someone, they respond. With whatever.

Japan was probably like that, at least before the Meiji Restoration.

Post-Meiji Japan has arguably always been an authoritarian regime, crushing new movements whether they waved a red flag, a cross, a rainbow flag, a weird cult flag, etc.

The past century of Japan taught people to just not say what they think anymore, creating a mass sense of learned helplessness.

I tried to talk to the salaryman sitting next to me, eating lunch, but he barely responded.

It was less about him refusing to respond, it was more about how he seemed to not understand what was going on.

If he had shown clear body language that he did not want conversation, I would’ve noticed.

He just blankly stared into the wall, then back at his phone, barely reacting.

I think I heard him very quietly agree with me, noting how the weird ordering tablets were a relatively new installment.

He was clearly confused, slightly irritated at the sudden social interaction, surprised by how close we were actually sitting.

We both barely had any elbow room, but then without even shrugging or giving me a single look, he just went back to blankly staring at his phone.

His soup was getting cold.

Our lives went on, barely getting to know each other, despite being in each other’s immediate presence, with barely any personal space left.

As if I did not exist - but more eerily, as if he himself, did not exist.

As if it barely made sense to him that I saw him there eating, a whole person.

The walk back from the restaurant was a bunch of shuffling around, avoiding silhouettes, and blankly staring ahead.

I… didn’t know if I really existed. I don’t know where I was going through.

A glowing blue dot on a tiny screen guided me back to the office. That was that.

I think it’s a problem that, that was the end of things.