I MUST COMMENT!

Write a harmless “Good morning 🌞” on Facebook.
You think you've sent a message of universal peace, a small seed of positivity amidst the digital chaos.

Deluded.

In three seconds flat, your good morning is intercepted by the drones of controversy and the replies rain down:
• “Good morning to whom??? Definitely not to me! Speak for yourself!”
• “Today's sun is clearly less bright than that of 1987. Typical modern superficiality. Study historical meteorology, you ignoramus.”
• “Your post is offensive to insomniacs and vampires. Show some sensitivity, SHAME.’

And you just wanted to say hello. Maybe, with a little optimism, raise a smile.

The problem is that on social media people have stopped reading.
Now he reacts on impulse.

Every dialogue risks being an explosion.
We have gone from connection to compulsion.

It doesn't matter whether you've shared a philosophical treatise by Heidegger, a photo of your cat sleeping in an impossible pose, or the news of a celebrity's passing: the Pavlovian impulse is stronger.
The uncontrollable urge to leave a mark, to plant a flag, is triggered.

The comment is the primitive cry of Homo Digitalis: not writing is equivalent to not existing.
And existence, here, is measured in bytes of indignation.

Social networks, of course, know this very well.
In fact, they built their fortune on this.

Every insult, every “boomer,” every “wake up!”, every unsolicited correction is fuel for the engine.
More comments, more fights, more time spent on the platform.

More time online = more data collected = more money for advertisers.

Hatred should be considered the real feature of the system, not a bug:
It is the oil that lubricates the perfect and ruthless machine of digital traffic.

And in this arena, there are gladiators. We can divide them into categories:
• The Archaeologist of “Things were better when”Whatever you post, it was better before. The songs, the summers, the air, even the wars.
• The Syntax Sniper: ignores the content of your post to find that incorrect subjunctive or missing accent. Its mission is a grammatical crusade that completely ignores comprehension.
• The Existential Offended: convinced that every word you write is a personal, coded attack on him. Your "good morning" was clearly a dig because he knows he slept badly.

Then, when the bar rises, the professionals arrive: the hate factories.

Bots, trolls, and fake accounts flooding message boards with thousands of copy-and-paste comments.
And when politics decides to get a digital facelift, the magic happens: 500 hearts from Amit Patel, Chinedu Okafor, and Fatima Banu appear under the post of an Italian MP.

All magically very knowledgeable about the Italian budget law and convinced that:
“What a leader! He is the future of our nation!!!”

Too bad their country is 7000 km away.

Meanwhile, the serial commentator, the real one, continues his solitary mission.
He gives up dialogue to have a pulpit.
Give up understanding in order to be able to judge.

He lives to correct, clarify, demolish.

He doesn't sleep, he doesn't eat, he doesn't love: he comments.
One click after another, with the fury of a tragic hero, as if the fate of the entire planet depended on that angry emoji left under your carbonara recipe.

And you?
You look at the screen, your little digital sun submerged in mud.
You just wanted to say good morning.

Next time go to the bar. ☕️