My Sunday morning thoughts...   “Sanctuaries” They rise like fortresses of fortune, etched against the skyline— stone, steel, glass stacked in shimmering layers, palaces built to outlast time itself. Their gates never creak. They glide open only for those whose names carry weight like currency. Inside, the air hums low with comfort— climate tuned precisely, floors that shine like mirrors, chandeliers spun from light itself, hallways vast as canyons lined with gold-leafed words about generosity. They dine on imported delicacies, aged wines, discussing strategies for change , how best to guide the unruly world beyond their walls. Through rose-colored windows they gaze out, seeing only what flatters them back— poverty as a puzzle to be solved from afar, desperation as distant noise, a problem of policy, never proximity. They craft rules for those outside— codes, decrees, restrictions— shaping streets they’ve never walked, drafting laws with hands that have never touched a callus ...

 I wrote this piece as a world-building exercise for a work-in-progress—a speculative fiction project in which an outside intelligence studies Earth from afar, categorizing the planet’s political systems during its age of crisis. What began as a fictional exercise quickly took on a sharper edge. It was supposed to be a background document for myself, a tool to help shape the political backdrop of the story I’m building. But as I wrote, it became impossible to ignore how closely this fictional taxonomy mirrors the present-day world . We still hear terms like “First World” and “Third World”—phrases rooted in Cold War alliances and economic shorthand—but those categories no longer describe the world we live in. Democratic erosion, climate collapse, plutocracy, expansionism, and systemic violence have reshaped the global order. The old labels simply don’t fit anymore. This piece is still technically fiction—but I’m sharing it here because it feels increasingly difficult to call it ...