MY MANIFESTO

Privacy is your power to decide which fragments of your soul you expose to the world, in whose hands you place them, under what sky you release them.

Privacy is a refuge where you can hide your wounds, where you can guard your words like bullets in reserve.

Privacy is the only thing that separates your life from a shop window. It is the gesture of covering your diary with your hand when someone approaches.

Governments and corporations map your steps, your pauses, your doubts, they know that you read that book, that you doubted the anthem, and they use it to deny you jobs, close doors to you, erase or put your name in the records.

Criminals unearth your secrets and destroy your life with a click, and you believe that an  “ I accept “  is just a formality.

They watch you in the supermarket, in the hospital, in the refuge of the pillow. They reduce you to patterns, to trends, to calculated risk.

They want your late-night searches, your out-of-focus photos, the trembling of your hands as you write a confession. They want to sell your hidden corners to the market of shame.

Do not give them the keys or show them the way to your inner sanctuary, it belongs only to you, guard it, avoid the siege.

You were taught to fear anonymity, to see it as a disguise for danger, as a hideout for the guilty.

The present reeks of control and surveillance, of laws that embrace you like gentle snakes, of algorithms that decide what you feel before you feel it. They scan you, sell you, shape you.

Deepfakes, blackmail, digital scars that are impossible to erase. Every piece of data, a bullet in someone else’s magazine, every photo, a secret turned into a commodity.

Privacy is not negotiated, it is defended with silent rage.

Privacy is not lost all at once. It is bled away in small permissions, in cheap comforts, in empty smiles, in appearances that you buy.

Privacy doesn’t die with a gunshot, it’s not dragged screaming through the streets, it’s not executed in public with honours. It dies slowly, despised, neglected by anxious scrolling, under the blue light of screens, between selfies and notifications. It is given away in exchange for nothing, for a meme, a filter, a 5% discount that you never needed. Like a ransom you pay for the kidnapping of your attention.

Do you think you are free because you are still given the choice between the red pill or the blue pill?

Freedom is not choosing between two kinds of poison. Freedom is the possibility of disappearing whenever you want, of being nothing and from that nothingness, being born again.

Don’t accept the comfortable lie, distrust the algorithm that caresses your ego, while stripping you of your soul.

Use ciphers as shields, as walls that protect your words from the siege of voracious glances. Encrypt your words like someone who keeps a sacred secret, navigate in the shadows, be an underground river, be an untamable wind.

Encrypt your messages and store them in airtight bottles, throw them into the sea of ​​the unfathomable, the indecipherable, where only those you want will be able to understand them.

Delete yourself from their platforms. They are auctioning your life on the market. Throw off their chains, stop being a number in their inventory, tear off the label of cattle for sale.

Discover other channels where you can develop valuable relationships with people who want to be free like you. Support communities of people who yearn for freedom as their main value.

Governments, with greedy hands and false promises, feed on the sweat of your brow, on the time you take from your life to earn a few empty coins, their empty coins.

Deny them the fruits of their labor, do not feed them, they are parasites that defend themselves with a monopoly on violence.

Every tax, every tribute, is a drop of your effort that falls into a bottomless pit, where it is diluted in corruption, in vain projects, in wars that you did not ask for and in luxuries that you do not deserve. They are only interested in staying in power, open your eyes.

Your money, earned through sweat and sleepless nights, becomes their loot, their tool for perpetuating themselves, while you drown in debt and broken promises.

They spend your hard-earned money, squander it on their own ends, in their theater of incompetence and greed, while demanding more, always more from you. You, worker, citizen, generous person, remain just a number in their machinery, an exploitable resource in their power game.

Wake up, claim what’s yours, because every bill you win should have your name printed on it, not theirs, they don’t deserve it.

Learn, educate yourself about free currency; it is the best way out of this madhouse, it is a cry for freedom, an act of rebellion against a system that robs you openly, that dilutes all your efforts with inflation and control.

By adopting it, you refuse to be a slave, to have others decide for you what you deserve, to have the value of your work stolen from you.

With it, you can be the master of your future and that of your loved ones; it is your shield against confiscation, against induced inflation, against its violence; it is your tool to one day become free, to become sovereign.

She is not just technology; she is freedom, she is resistance, she is the real possibility of ceasing to be a link in this suffocating chain that has been placed around our necks.

Every transaction is an act of dissent, it is much more than an act of rebellion, it is a blow to the monster that feeds on you. Deny the monster its sustenance, take back what belongs to you and say a silent stop to the machinery that exploits you.

Be free, be your own master. Be a sovereign individual.

Resist, be a ghost in their system, a crack in their scaffolding.

Be a guide for those around you, a bridge to help them fight for their freedom as well.

Privacy is not a whim. It is the last refuge. Today you can still resist, today you can still choose silence, and from that silence, remember what it means to be human.

I choose to be a creature of the abyssal depths, where neither light nor insatiable curiosity can reach me. I do not allow you to come disguised as Jacques Cousteau to profane my darkness with 200-watt spotlights, to tear me from my sanctuary of shadows and silence, to expose my secret forms, hidden under miles of water and oblivion, because if I see you I will turn against you and you will know what I am capable of.

Do not enlighten me with your proposals, do not study me as if I were a weirdo, do not rob me of the dignity of the unknown, leave me in peace, in my abyss, where the world cannot find me, where I can be, simply, what life wanted me to be.

A Mystery, not a spectacle.