As someone with 800,000 followers across social media, my DMs are essentially the final stage of societal collapse. There are couples soliciting me for threesomes, men asking if they can buy my discharge, death threats from neo-Nazis, and girls I haven’t spoken to since high school saying things like, “Wait stopppp, we should get drinks.”
It’s an overwhelming collage of information that I rifle through when I am bored or going through a manic episode or breakup. But oftentimes there are just enough gems buried in the psychological landfill that every couple of weeks I’ll scroll back through it again.
Last week, roughly 70% of my DMs were communicating one very specific message:
“Tova, are you aware AI stole your body?”