"From the Thinker — your driver by day, dreamer by night"
"Semi-fantastic notes from a world similar to ours — only here dreams speak louder, and control wires quietly buzz beneath the pavement."
"🌞 Daylight: The Driver"
"By day, I am your friendly neighbor, waving at intersections and knowing which doorbell actually works. I load parcels, find doors, read tiny names on tiny buzzers, and try to bring a little kindness with every knock. I love the road — I always have. The strip of asphalt, the geometry of turns, how the sun paints the edge of the van's mirror — these small harmonies carried me when money was tight and tools hummed like hungry moons every month."
"Then I had to get it out of my heart, so that everything would be decided by what I can do with what I have — even when I can do little."
Being is not cheap. Creativity is not cheap. Rest is not cheap. To continue studying healing and keep the light, I became a courier. Then the world still seemed like a gentle paradise. Then the air changed — first in the sky, then in the rules.
🌙 Night: The Dreamer
At night I listen to cities breathe. I follow pain through their alleys, tension curled in stairwells and storage rooms. I patch people's spirits with quiet rituals: breath before accusation, water before anxiety, touch before speech. I heal what falls through the cracks of politics and punctuality.
Sometimes, when the moon is high and wires hiss, I fight corruption as if for fun — nothing dramatic, just a gently rearranged reality: locks that don't close for those who want to imprison, windows that open for those who need wind. The lamp recalibrates; the camera blinks; the guard remembers childhood and leaves home earlier. Small fixes. Human scale.
🕯️ Shift: when seeds turned into tentacles
The seeds of trouble were small — barely visible in the soil. Over time they sprouted in places of unrest, then with tentacles, finally — full control. Illusions descended on people like invisible glasses: everyone busy, everyone sick, everyone told that bathing is normal, and heat is "just a warning in the app." Water stood behind glass "for saving," while the air begged for courage, salt, and shade.
Driving used to be beautiful — landscapes, respectful "hello," shared passage of time. Then someone flipped the kill switch. Tension became the norm. Police lights, a flood of tickets. More work, more rules, and no time. You'll be punished if you stick to the numbers, and punished if you don't. "Neatly" you'd make fifty stops a day. The system gives you two hundred and tells you to smile. Income looks like a reward but acts like disguised income for them — expenses everywhere, no pensions, a thousand-dollar fine for a plastic cap because "our site takes five days."
Loading the van in daylight became an aesthetic crime; the depot called it pollution and banned everything else. Sleep deprivation was not an accident; it was a feature. Drivers started dropping — on roads, in comments, and in silence. And when a driver dies, a chorus arises: "Stupid driver. Should have learned." The chorus never learns.
Like a famous survivor bias plane chart.
"How to work at Amazon?"
Imagine: the alarm goes off at 2:15 AM — not because you're chasing dreams, but because you have to be at work before the whole world wakes up. You arrive before 3 AM, start at 6 AM, and on paper, you should finish by 1 PM.
Reality? You finish when they say. Free overtime — or you're "not a team player." Most days you leave around 3 PM, exhausted but not done yet. Then — loading in another city, because apparently someone enjoys sending a two-hour detour after a ten-hour shift.
You finish loading around 8 p.m., crawl home and crash into bed around 10 p.m. — just in time for a luxurious four-hour sleep before the next alarm.
Other routes usually start around 10 one o'clock in the morning and only ends when the last driver returns — sometimes even around 22:30 one o'clock in the afternoon. By the time we get home, it's already 23:30 or even midnight — just enough time to fall into bed and get up early again to repeat everything anew.
If you're thirsty — have a thick wallet. Two euros for 500 ml of water — just a bit more expensive than diesel. Hydration is a privilege, not a benefit.
Sick? No problem — they just take your van, your VIN number without informing you and keep using it while you're "sick." Apparently, everything you pay for — fuel, maintenance, time, health — is free for them.
Fuel expenses are not reimbursed.
They profit from you — about £1 or €1.20 per kWh, roughly the same as diesel, just three times more expensive.
So drivers with electric vans end up paying 2–3 times more than diesel costs, forced to charge at inflated prices without compensation.
In the end, just fuel eats up about 40% of your pay. The rest disappears in insurance, loans, and taxes — until nothing is left. People go bankrupt working all day.
The system is designed purely for efficiency — but only for them, not for those who actually use it.
They even admit to global crashes and major errors — malfunctions that constantly make everything disappear.
Feels less like a professional platform and more like a sandbox for beginners digging into code — only here people trust it and make their living from it.
Well, maybe they'll fix it next month.
And not only bad news — after all, not only drivers fall or go bankrupt working. Dispatchers also die...
Works six days a week — and if that sixth day coincides with a public holiday, it doesn't matter. No bonus, no "thank you" — just the same shouting as always.
And about the pay… sometimes drivers get up to eight times less than they should for a full day's work. Why? Because someone "higher up" needed extra, and money has to come from somewhere.
And if you try to speak up — you'll quickly realize that no one cares. Or simply no one is allowed to care.
They are translated to maintain a perfect image just to hide constant exploitation. Even when you're just delivering napkins along a forest village road – a small stone hits and cracks the side mirror of your own private car – and that's already considered a crime. An innocent accident is turned into an "unforgivable mistake" punishable by a £1000 fine.
However, over time they force you to buy a new van, claiming the old one is "too old" — even though it still works perfectly. If you refuse — they simply fire you.
When drivers take out huge lifelong loans to buy new vans, the real coercion only begins. They no longer allow you to work, but still use your van in the system as if you were active. The owner is left without money, without hope, without strength — forbidden to work, while the van continues to earn for others.
Each "new van" registered in the system allows them to increase the number of deliveries, but not for the driver. Instead, the work is redistributed to others — some get overworked, some even die on the job, but the system doesn't care. There will always be someone to replace them. It's brutally efficient and incredibly profitable.
A few hundred from each person — multiply by thousands, and you'll understand what a deep game is going on here.
But then I started thinking — after all, this is a state organization, yet no progress, no development. The same outdated patterns are still used, nothing really changes, and they still operate at a deficit. And a minus forty trillion. Think about it: one trillion is a thousand billion.
They clearly don't understand what real business is. They just take money from drivers, exploit their work, and call it "earnings." But this is not progress — it's exploitation.
And then it hit me — this is a very dangerous job. Only the physically and psychologically strongest people can endure it; others collapse on the first day — heart attacks, brain blockages.
And if this group of the strongest — millions of people — is systematically exploited, exhausted, and discarded, what then awaits? The backbone of the nation breaks.
If the strongest no longer have a life, if their children grow up weak and hopeless —
what will remain?
It's not just exploitation.
This is a country slowly ground to dust — its strength erased to extinction.
Drivers also basically spy — every driver takes hundreds of photos: of homes, cars, yards, private property.
Multiply that by millions of drivers, and you understand — it's a massive, silent surveillance network, operating daily.
Welcome to the "Amazon" experience:
you pay, they earn — and call it efficiency.
What about the police and similar institutions?
Well, as I said — it's a huge business. Silence has become a profitable commodity.
In the United Kingdom, I realized that there is nothing truly united there. Each city is like a separate kingdom, where laws resemble illusion more than order. Everything is divided, extracted, and hidden under one name.
I know a few much tougher websites than theirs — created by a small, almost invisible nation whose population is so tiny that on the world map it's almost a rounding error speck. Take a look at varle.lt and pigu.lt — proof that quality doesn't need numbers, just a few loving hands.
Also: Daily driving · Just another day
I write not just for myself. In the world — millions of last-mile drivers, each a moving link in a huge conveyor. In the United Kingdom alone, there are about two to four times more of them than there are Lithuanians in the world.
👁️ What I saw (and how I learned to defend myself)
An e-commerce website is just a tool — nothing more. Buildings stand on the ground; things belong to people. But hands that grasp the tool learn to collect pain and call it efficiency. The heart wanted to strike; the hands chose to create. I watched, learned, and leave a map for those who need it.
- Illusions thrive in speed. Slow down one breath, then one decision. Naming a trick weakens it.
- Exhaustion is the gate. Protect it — water, food, shade. Don’t give your pulse away for someone else’s convenience.
- Micro-boundaries work. Ten seconds before the next call. One pull per staircase. Small favors become armor.
- Witness each other. A real “How are you?” disrupts the script that turns people into logistics.
- Truth is in simplicity. Say what’s happening, without embellishments. Truth doesn’t need makeup to be strong.
🏬 A website is just a website
This is just another e-commerce website where you buy things. It’s not a temple. Not a state. Not heaven. Things don’t belong to the website. Sellers still sell. Drivers still deliver. People still get what they need. If the tool collects pain, we can help and get a better one.
Three ways to replace a broken tool
- The long path (1–2 years): Prepare and slowly let go. Migrate sellers and buyers with patience and documentation. Boring, stable, survivable.
- The middle path (a few months): Move to existing markets (even auctions). Meanwhile — local stores. People adapt faster than the rules expect.
- The fast track (here and now): If disrespect for life crosses the line, institutions can turn upside down overnight — tariffs and competitions reorganize, new platforms emerge, and links travel via SMS messages. Only the internet address changes. Sellers still sell. Drivers still deliver. People still get what they want.
You can buy a USB drive at a local store. You can buy directly from other countries — or from websites like ours, which connect you with creators — often much cheaper, sometimes even two to four times less. It might take a few more days. Time is also currency; sometimes it buys dignity.
💪 What changes for people (when the tool changes)
- For drivers: honest routes, honest rest — often double pay and a real chance to return home safely. The steering wheel becomes a wheel again, not a noose.
- For the people: lower prices in practice, shipments carried by people who still feel that they are people.
- For the country: income not shaved from the exhausted. Fewer ambulance sirens. More birthdays.
The transition from the street would seem ordinary. Shipments would still arrive. The difference is invisible but felt: fear disappears. Choice appears.
🧭 Field notes for drivers and dreamers
- Carry kindness as a spare key. It opens more doors than codes.
- Drink before the trip. If water is beyond the glass, prepare your well — bottle, thermos, refill map.
- Name the demand. “This deadline forces me to break the law.” Saying it aloud breaks its spell.
- Use a pause. Ten counts at every threshold — breathing resets perception.
- Reject shame. The need to rest is not a defect; it's proof that you are still alive.
💗 Moving forward (without forgetting)
I don't want to waste my mind on anger; the heart has already done the math. I've solved what I could with what I had. Now I choose love as my studio, and the world as my classroom. I keep driving because I love movement. I keep healing because I love the peace it gives others. I keep writing because someone, somewhere is looking for the sentence that will let them breathe.
Whether my van is beautiful or not — let the world decide. Meanwhile, I'll keep the engine good, the words honest, and the nights brave.
🤝 How you can help today
- Shop thoughtfully. Choose platforms and stores that treat people like people.
- When the driver calls, give a smile — or a glass of water in the heat. It matters.
- If the tool collects pain, change the tool. The sky won't fall. The shipments will still arrive.
- Share this story with anyone who thinks there are no alternatives. There always are.
— From the Thinker, your friendly neighbor – driver by day, dreamer by night