If insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result, does it stand to reason that futility is doing different things over and over and getting the same result?

The original title for this post was “The ability to do something does not necessarily mean you should do it.”

This is my 99th newsletter, or more accurately described as “directed blog post that does not include that year where I made a photo webcomic.” It is the penultimate post before that easy to gawk at milestone that is 100. Ten by ten. Not quite two years of consistent posting, but certainly on track to get there.

I haven’t missed a week. To most, that would be impressive, a testament to dedication and commitment to doing a thing. To me… well, I said I wanted to write more, so I decided to write more and in the process of writing more, I found a cadence for a little bit and then I disrupted the cadence and then life decided to throw several curve balls both in my personal and professional realms, and now I have the privilege (deep discomfort) of once parsing out the “academic knowing of” and the “guttural feeling of.”

I have been stuck on this statement. The ability to do something does not necessarily mean you should do it. What we are capable of, what we can do, what we should do, what is beneficial, what is detrimental, what is ethical, what is moral.

I have spent the better part of 2026 trying very hard to do less. Not because I can’t do, but because the act of doing something is an investment, an allocation of resources. If I do X, I can’t do Y, or if I can do Y, it’s at the expense of Z. And quite frankly, I am tired. And quite frankly, I am depressed. And depression’s a motherfucker because it is a thief of joy. What once served as a salve is more distraction to the current situation.

The circumstances of the world/the state/the city/the network I am in feel inhospitable to hostile. Doing nothing sounds really nice abstractly, but choosing nothing is kinda awful. I don’t subscribe to nihilism. I’ve been an existentialist since high school. This all has to mean something. We make it mean something.

But then the universe has a funny way of challenging that. The taunt of generative AI encroaching on the integrity of your work. The Sisyphean boulder of a dating life once again resetting and the thud sounds like “is it you?” and having shrug it off and get out and try to meet people because inexplicably the only way to meet people is to meet people. Six hours from when this message is sent, I’ll be at a speed dating and I’m sure it’ll be fine, but the question at hand: is this insanity? is this futility? Is this the time the cycle will break.

So, as the endurance test of life continues, the question on my mind is “do I take a break?”

Mixed Media with Mikkel is ultimately a pet project that I have carried because it’s fun (?). Because the purpose of writing is ultimately having someone read it. And if I were to stop… I’m sure people would notice. But I don’t owe this to anyone else. Although the answer I am coming to is I maybe owe this to myself.

I have gone back and forth on the idea of a hiatus after 100. It’d be so easy to simply not. This taunting through line: “the ability to do something does not necessarily mean you should.”

But I think throughout all the rumination, there is a simpler resolution. Something does need to change, but that change, for better/for worse, is going to require me writing.

So, next week, come join me as we sit with the milestone and hopefully I’ll have some idea of what post 101 is going to look like.