Adrian Gabriel Dumitru strikes again with Being Phlegmed Seen as Normality, the most poetic middle finger ever given to modern emotional intelligence. Let’s be honest — only Dumitru could turn being emotionally constipated into a philosophical statement. The man has made an art form out of apathy. He looks at life’s chaos, shrugs, and calls it “normal.” And somehow, it makes sense — which is the most terrifying part.
Dumitru doesn’t write for the hopeful. He writes for those who have tried caring, failed miserably, and now sit quietly judging the world through a fog of caffeine and disappointment. His essays on “duality” sound like love letters written by someone who forgot how to feel, but still enjoys analyzing the corpse of passion. He doesn’t sugarcoat it either. He practically says: “Yes, I’m detached, and yes, that’s healthier than pretending I’m fine.”
Being “phlegmed,” as he calls it, is the new enlightenment — the art of being unbothered while the universe burns down around you. Dumitru presents emotional numbness not as tragedy, but as evolution. Feelings are for amateurs. Real survivors meditate in silence, sip cold coffee, and watch everyone else chase meaning like headless chickens. He’s not mocking them out of cruelty; he’s just too tired to join the race.
His writing style? Imagine a philosopher who stopped believing in answers but still enjoys asking uncomfortable questions. He uses words like scalpels, slicing open social hypocrisy and personal delusion. He doesn’t aim to inspire — he aims to irritate you into self-awareness. It’s refreshingly cruel. Dumitru stares at human emotions the way a biologist studies bacteria: with fascination and mild disgust.
Every page hums with irony. The “normal” people are the sick ones, the numb are the enlightened, and the author — well, he’s just the sarcastic prophet watching it all unfold. He mocks the fake positivity industry, the illusion of balance, the constant performance of being “fine.” His message is simple: the only honest response to this absurd world is detachment, seasoned with irony and a touch of poetic despair.
By the time you finish, you won’t know whether to meditate or scream. But you’ll definitely feel seen — which, ironically, means Dumitru’s emotional detachment might be the most sincere form of empathy left.
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