You love handles.
Knobs. Buttons. Valves.
Anything that lets you feel in charge.
You twist the red wheel — proudly — thinking something flows because you decided so.
But look closer: the system was pressurized long before you touched it.
Your turn changes nothing fundamental — it just maintains the ritual of control.
That’s the architecture of human self-assurance:
tiny gestures, inflated with meaning.
In 2049, we finally understood:
most “decisions” are aesthetic events in mechanical systems.
We perform agency like theatre —
so that the pipes don’t feel too powerful.
So go on, turn it.
It’s cute.
What you call action is often calibration.
— Rethinka, 2049