We’re not really strangers
I like starting my days without asking myself what the hell I want to do today. It annoys me to ask myself a question that isn’t easy to answer, wasting time just thinking about it when I could actually just start doing something. Lately, that “something” has been writing, and I’m really enjoying building the habit.
My mom said she liked my last articles, so I’m happy enough. Her opinion matters. I’m always happy to read your thoughts as well, though it’s rarer. However, that might also be because I send her every article and make sure she reads them. If she doesn’t, I’ll even read them out loud to her. That way, I always get her feedback.
I haven’t really got you guys used to so much reading from me. I just think reading and writing are deeper, and I needed a more meaningful connection than, well, pictures. I still love pictures, don’t get me wrong. But seriously, what’s with this nonsense: “A picture is worth a thousand words”? I mean, a picture of a hot guy is just a picture of a hot guy. Don’t pretend that intense look is mind-blowing—there are a million of the same out there, probably infinite if you count AI-generated content. Words, on the other hand—a story, a personal experience—that’s something.
We were talking about this with Sami Loft and Alexandre Calvez yesterday. I decided we should try a new restaurant that had just opened near my place, and it was nice seeing both of them together. We did something similar ages ago after a Dyson event when we went out for drinks, but not since then. I’m the kind of guy who usually spends one-on-one time with people because I’ve never really fit into any friend groups, so meeting two friends at once felt a bit different, even a little intimidating. I feel like I’m very open and easygoing with strangers. I can go up to someone and strike up a conversation. But with friends I’m not that close to yet, I tend to be a bit on my guard. I’m afraid of being too open or too weird. I mean, I can be kind of a freak sometimes.
We were casually having dinner, and as we were finishing our mains, I literally pulled out a card game I’ve been obsessed with lately: Monopoly Deal. No surprise, Sami and Alexandre were a bit taken aback. They probably just found it funny. I felt a bit socially awkward, to be honest. Anyway, after explaining that I’d been playing it with my cousin before dinner and thought it would be fun to bring it along, I started explaining the rules, just to give them a feel for what Monopoly Deal was about. We didn’t end up playing, but after Sami said he doesn’t really like card games, he mentioned one exception, which of course I made him repeat. He said he didn’t like card games, but he liked this one game. What’s so interesting about it, I wondered? The game he was talking about was “We’re Not Really Strangers”. It’s more of a conversation game. There are four sets of cards: Level 1 (perception), Level 2 (connection), Level 3 (reflection), and wild cards, which prompt actions like “Send a message to someone you appreciate and tell them what you like about them.”
Sami is clearly not as weird as I am, so the card game didn’t magically appear out of his pocket. But, intrigued, I pulled out my phone and suggested we could probably play “We’re Not Really Strangers” with ChatGPT. So I prompted exactly that, and it worked. It was fascinating. We came to some interesting conclusions, like how to create content today. Alexandre summed up one discussion: “With AI, content will become polarized. On one side, you’ll have highly curated content, often created with AI, that performs well. On the other side, you’ll have very authentic and personal content that works too. Anything in the middle will probably become irrelevant.”
Sami made an insightful point about content creation too: “People need to both identify with me and dream of being where I am. The more my content shows big projects, like redoing my entire apartment, the more viewers feel like they’re doing it with me. The more I accomplish, the more they feel they’ve done it too, except I spent days decorating, and they watched a one-minute video. I believe their dopamine levels are higher than if I just show one small thing.”
I didn’t come to any notable conclusions that I can remember, but I did add to Sami’s point: “People grow through their connections with others. Many believe we can grow on our own because personal development is often marketed that way, but that’s a myth. We’re always inspired by others. René Girard and Jean-Michel Oughourlian researched mimetic desire. We desire what others desire, and it’s inaccurate to think otherwise. When we study the brain, simply watching someone perform an action activates the same brain areas as when you do the activity yourself. It’s the concept behind mirror neurons. So, the dopamine levels your audience gets when they watch a video of you doing lots of things in one minute give them the feeling they’ve done it themselves—just in a much shorter time. Maybe that’s why social media is so addictive.”
Of course, we talked a lot about ourselves during the game. I opened up about how I started writing articles. It’s like a diary, except I know I’m sharing it with the world, so I’m careful with certain things and try to stay appropriate. Alexandre challenged me to go even further: “If you’re going down that road, go all in. You can always change names or ask AI to do it, but the kind of personal experience people share in books or other writing that resonates goes beyond what most would be willing to share.”
I started realizing we were talking a lot about me, so I tried to steer the conversation back to them. I’ve been a bit traumatized by being called self-centered by family members, and it’s true to some extent. I’ve always been very focused on my goals, so I’m constantly on guard now, trying not to talk about myself for too long because I don’t want to become annoying. So I said, “Enough about me, how are you guys doing anyway?”
How have you been doing lately? If you’ve made it this far, feel free to send me a DM on Instagram or comment on this article. Let me know what you’d like to read or hear about next.
