Underconsumption-core is a thing these days, but I don’t want to just consume less. I want more meaningful consumption.

Why? Because I’m hungry for knowledge, hungry to experience, hungry to know what I can know. But I want to do it without being consumed by the machine.

I want more wonder. More insight that stays with us and that reshapes how we see, how we act, how we understand this life.

I love to learn. I love to know and to get lost in new ideas.

But the world keeps trying to flatten that desire into something else. Something that’s faster and easier to monetize. Something empty that requires little thought. A quick answer spit out with little regard to your individual human insight.

The problem isn’t consuming. It’s how we’re consuming.

We’re swimming in content. Drowning in answers and options. Flooded with opinions. But how much of it is feeding us?

In the age of AI, we’re told that knowledge should come quickly and on demand. Now even a few seconds feels like waiting forever. How baffling. There’s no incentive to wander or wonder. Just results.

But is there a downside when we take shortcuts to knowing? Don’t forget to make space for the long path to understanding. For the nuance. I want knowledge that lingers. Knowledge that changes me. The kind that pulls me back in days later, asking new questions. The kind of learning that connects across time — a book I read years ago finally clicking into place with something I learned this morning.

I don’t want to skim across the surface. I want to sink. To be shaped.

I’m not against AI. I’m against hollow consumption. AI can be a powerful aid in the search for understanding, but you can too easily confuse its answers for insight.

There’s a cost to consuming too quickly: We forget what we read. We flatten nuance. We miss the poetry, the friction, the aliveness. In our rush to know, we could lose the art of learning.

I want to follow curiosity to strange places. I want slow, strange, bumpy, transformative knowledge — the kind that doesn’t sell, doesn’t trend, doesn’t always make sense right away.

I want space to pause. To reflect. To breathe. To soak in knowledge and connect ideas across disciplines, across days, across versions of myself.

I want to feel the things I learn. I want to be humbled by what I don’t know. I want to be in relationship with my pursuit of knowledge— not just a consumer of it.

So no, I don’t want less. I want meaning. I want depth.

I want to be full — not fed.