First, fuck woke! Then, move on. Live!

On the subtleties of being real. Awake. Alive.

First, fuck woke! Politely, of course. Then, move on and live as if you’d only have one life! Dance freely, eat delicious food, love with all your mind and body, travel far, and make real friends. Cause you only have one life. Very precious. No encore.

Once upon a time, woke started as a grassroots movement for social justice, racial issues, systemic inequalities, and other plagues humanity suffers from. A promising movement towards a new paradigm and a better life.

That time is long gone! Now, woke is a label for mind frailty, surface-scratching thinking, a shield against anything real or profound, and a ridiculous lack of critical thinking and assertive conversation.

Woke is now about feelings, not facts. Woke is being asleep, almost dead. It’s about the makeup, not the skin deep. It’s about the live freak circus, not about the meaningful life. If anything, its lack of profoundness triggers the worst in human interactions. Woke embodies a dystopian, anti-intellectual society.

What would Plato have done if every dialogue had been abruptly killed in its inception by the other one being offended by his questions? No more guidance towards the truth. No, thank you. The truth is overrated.

Woke jokes are not funny either — they are cautious and greasy. They feel like funerals in slow motion, with humor being the deceased. Like a food without salt. Like clean sex. Better off, like no sex.

Imagine a woke, politically correct stand-up comedy night — a long, painful rehearsal for a slow death of spirit. We need to be awake, not woke. We need to be alive, not faking life. Vibrant and spectacular. Profoundly human. Gritty, but soft.

Woke talks are very short monologues, fed by stupidity and killed by fear, untouched by love or maturity. Like a low-life social media post with a clickbait title.

Last, but not least, fuck woke! Sleep well.

Wake up fresh and healthy. Re-start. Give life a new chance!