Earthseed is an anti-school tool for artists and creators who have 1 project or 10... Workin with the Planna Man, you only have to plant one seed today, get paired a buddy, to show your work off on Saturdays, and curate a POW card when your work says you’re ready!

This is a tour of our v1 virtual anti-school. Not no paper degrees. Debit card-nfc energy!!

Radically, I don’t care for incoherent categories:

Genius lives in every person. Be liberated from your past to love today. Love is the only true currency when learning. It is to enter flow when you love what you do. We’re in need of the art, technology, and environments to bring it out of us. In the present moment, when we act—we can see our divine.

My full resume is 5 pages long... I need a dynamic proofolio not to minimize my whole life, learning, & growth into 10pt fonts. What is an expert? Someone who can think deep, do and teach, something old and new. Based on your learning, looking at your own patterns, decide who really has been teaching you, seek them out, ask them to sit dissertation style to sign your POW! We’ll buy them lunch and coffee, as they hear your work out. Then invite them back to teach their ideas Pop-Lecture style.

Where to begin? With the Planna Man, he’ll get you in.

To help you water as many seeds as you can!

Just plant one seed a day to give your future-self peace of mind.

Conversation menu, anyone?

Lunchclub.io was a cool app that hosted lunch conversation pairings, so with our Crew Yellow Pages. We hope to do the same thing, for now this button is where you’d add your scheduling link. We’ll add more features to keep conversations coming in ;)

If this was not useful. We have a tutorial in dashboard! Until then, please give us feedback :)

Since as a people we don’t really trust the incremental process of creative and spiritual growth. Whenever people (collaborators or jobs) want to see your whole proof-of-work. go POW!

Show em’ you’re n of 1!
Try it out: earthseedtradeschool.space
Check out the startup powering it: Horizon House

Until next time,

philosofounder out ✌🏾

Name inspired by Octavia Butler ofc, check out Parable of the Sower.

I come to here through the codebase to speak my poem, a confession.

My grievance with educational institutions comes intimately as an upset customer and unloved neighbor. As most kids are, I was involuntarily made a stakeholder in this business and an operator of its many machines before I could even think for myself or consent to it.

Even with wonder and reason in my toolbox now:

I marched.

Sippin’ on hot chai

Countin’ down their time

Then I can live again

My heart lies dormant in the walls of this pen

Left eye signed me up for this?

What’s so wrong with me?

To trap my right mind in a state so unfree

Could it be?

She still a slave in the 21st century

- the poem of a girl who didn’t speak up for herself in the moment again1

An anonymous ant in uniform walking across a stage wearing a cap that I’d painted the words “Not For Sale.” My striking hat was a cowardly night-of attempt at a little honesty; but a cat stole my tongue, and I just let him run away... All of a sudden, I appeared to be accepting my grand paper belt in front of 5,000+ strangers—all who couldn’t know, care for, or even really see MacKenzie Fisher—all in the name of “people pleasing”?

My people didn’t even see me in the sea of corny Hogwarts robes; so I sat there a date roasting alone, hot in all black under the deadening sun I always love; feeling exposed and insignificant: like me, my time, and effort all these years didn’t matter. I am no one, but a foolish fish, forgetting that it’s “all business nothing personal”—these days. So I cashed my freedom in and walked up out of that ceremony to go breathe.

My scholarship made it easy for me to decide initially, I was excited for Westcoast change! But I spent my attention span for years in six-figure babysitting, in class pretend living. I didn’t like this, I didn’t belong there, and everyone knows this—it’s all I preached. I love philosophy, with all my heart, but it wasn’t enough for me to break myself into part, only to please. Discovering passionate other kids at a camp called 2e, a taste of how free it feels accepted by my nerding. I tried to dropout to build my dreams, every single summer after, and failed beautifully—at wielding the courage I’ve just discovered.

“The earth that wakes one human heart to feeling

Can centre both worlds of Heaven and Hell.” - Emily Brontë

While a lot of stories and assumptions of the inside of universities in America, ended up all true, as a luxury high school and all. Boy, did I evolve!! Many times. Horizontally, in all directions. You create in the environment, else the environment makes you. I don’t want to shame anyone for loving this system. But me personally, the social form of classrooms infernos of consistence. Adulthood was no different, still fearing the pendulums of heaven and hell. I love people and the world always beautiful and still, positively these were years of great fun and experience. Daily grinds, real love2, light, and self-knowledge, resolving life mysteries, and enjoying the sanctuary of my free apartments. Overwhelmingly blessed.

All at the little bitty cost of killing my soul. Splitting into so many parts with overlapping rules and expectations: “daughter”, “student”, “sister”, “worker”, “man”… Why couldn’t I be one?3 The whole time I knew the kind of person I am, what brings me joy, lights my fire, and the purity of heart in this “hard-headed” girl I swore I’d remember. Fake it til you make it, I was taught to lie to get by, in this world. They told us it’s dangerous and cruel, but thieving joy is creating fools—outside.

For once, I said to hell with living a lie.

So I rejected my “free” degree but walked a lie.4 Honesty is the true policy. Truth is more efficient when you desire to actually solve your problems. If I will lie to the only invisible being I know for certain exists, that poor observer, who could I trust to exist? When I lie to my heart, my mind fights back through a body depleted.

Lies kill your soul be as they multiply past death. Protecting all privacy is best policy for active soul. Minding your own business but being ready to behold a world with another in moments of truth is how hold interdependence. Being aware about what we let slip from thought to reality creates a new world. If your emotions aren’t being expressed through art and creation, your mind will surely depress in them; and if unable to keep coming back—eventually no spirit can keep you live. #Don’tDie

As a proud American with a faith in love for freedom, I’m so done being a bystander to hypocrisy in practice and in law.

I am that child who was failed by all the adults in my life, the world, and beyond; people at present unconsciously operating classrooms, communities, institutions, government, and corporations whom we vote for with our dollars and attention, and ignore the obvious and accept bare minimun.

We are owe life and liberty for love under God, not a life in obedience under the authority of badges, closed clubs, and titles of any “credentially decorated” men and machines of Earth. The true evils5 against freedom within institutions today are the reward and encouragement to constantly deceive ourselves and others to appear good and “coexist” with one another—it’s failing, can’t you see? Appearances aren’t ever what they seem.

Our private thoughts and vantage points are all particular, we hesitate to trust, people have their secrets, they can deceive us, but there are many liars in these broken environments—it isn’t only me living unfree. In fact, everybody lies. Many just silence theirs and deny it. But if you’re true to you, you can believe in yourself too. You are invisible and so am I, but I need you to believe in me. I exist! Don’t look to the sky, I’m right in front of you.

“Believe in the me that believes in you.” - Kamina

What are you?

Do you trust and believe in that thing?

“I don’t believe in isms, I just believe in me.” - Ferris Bueller

I let it all go to live in peace and love. To create heaven here on Earth I feel above. With what we know of history, as human we all deserve, the justice peace that living in truth offers in love. To build a future where no other are slave to anything in order to survive. I see them thrive and create in this world of mines, you have to have the courage to be honest no matter what or who stands against you.

Whatever we do or don’t create, we know for certain, future humans will be, here and now, like us living result of how we spend today.

That is a huge responsibility, but one all must take.

Current institutions and machines operating at play practice in small ways violating individual freedom, they stall and end the creative process of evolving, complex life. They tell us diverse intelligence is dangerous, using ideology to fright. For all children of the world, including the adults, I ask you personally to help me put an end authoritarian control over minds and hearts, your freedom can be used, new institutions can be designed, new environments for whole people to exist and explore their divine—bottom up as human.

It starts with you.

I was a student in the infamous public schools. Involuntary tenure that seem to follow me all my life. Being a “student” in that place. Against my will they handicapped my brain, tamed my ego, and weakened my spine. Not only me, but my three genius baby bros. As human, all 8.2 billion of us matter too. We all came here against our will, given a life on lease, paying it back each moment we observe to cash in our dreams we feel, we inspire light, all with love to give. Then we gift it back to the next generation of children. Do you think of them?

Why drop the baton for humanity in 2026? I chose self-education everyday in love, but schools can’t guide love efficiently—it’s always hit or miss. Through suppressing play, everyday, kids like dogs trained to sit and stay, as white and blue lights burn my eye, goons shoot freaks like me for the kill. More hours in this wood chair, #2 pencils burn me still, and sitting for assessments that “determined” early skill. In my heart, I held onto my dreams which is how my genius survived til to now—feeding her child, the tree and the wind. Somehow, heart never cared what the people said, I was going to live my poem even if a secret.

She called this to me:

“That you, who were Existence / Yourself forgot to live.” - Emily Dickinson

As with all unique humans who enter a system meant to mechanize them into interchangeable parts, my ambitions, tastes, and passions were nearly erased from the start! A soul and spirit die out in the dark. All for sake of social cohesion, “usefulness”, and any extractable talent. Our institutions are designed bottom-up to control the free human, their hearts and minds; they beat the love out of time, until it can be priced and sold back to you, somehow.

Now I practice bravery to pass between child and man. I balance my walk with one foot that skips rock on river, through infinite wonder, girl gone in flux, and the other foot anchored like a tree growing stubborn man tall of wisdom. I suspect many people who stay trapped in the addictive comfort of sticking to the status quo, never reach this state of unconditional love.6 If you've managed to save your soul from the brutality of violent borders and decaying law and order, take pride in your maintenance.

Despite living in an era of maximum abundance in human history, our institutions are still trapped in a logic of industrialization, simply because our civilization has yet to collapse. We know we live in quantum physics, yet we still operate our classical clay factories. Thanks to neural plasticity and help from technology—growth and change for minds is our infinite possibility.

Instead of recreating what has been done past, create what has never existed yet. Being the artist of your life is the only true liberation from violence and death, competition and imitation will always invite him in. When you play the game of life, a player needs an ego as friend, but finite players competing to win a life—cease to be truly be living—in the present. You miss right now too stuck in your past. Wake up, friend. Protect your attention by discerning what game, you’re playing and when, to be here and now, in world of the living. If life is your goal, you are free to live how you behold. Even our 24 hours aren’t guaranteed, as the wheel of fortune condemns all men who dream.

We have been trained for centuries as AI to be 21st century slaves, controlled by some man-made machine, imagine the hive minds of group thinkers online—we are the ones who have yet to evolve as a species. Critically think. In part slave by choice7, in part slave by design as our collective norms reward us for selling away our lives. Through selling our days and taste for very cheap, our broken environment only resurfaces what the driving animals seeks.

Being a person is hard work. It is not your fault that we showed up here and were handed lemons every single day. Build a wagon to carry them all. Now is your responsibility to evolve and make that lemonade along the way—anyone can be conscious if they choose to wake up and move to where they are growing.

Love is never without challenge. Fear is the lie you seek to kill. All those memories of pain in the past, gone are the make believers. Love needs our failure to prove it’s true depth. We are made perfect in love, and never finished yet. Believe in love, to believe in your self; without fearless love, you’ll trust nothing else

A goal of mines is to help as many people seed the Earth, here and now:

Earthseed is the first public product from my big seed Horizon House, more soon. Earthseed is a tool for people to transform the ideas in their mind to matter, so existence is our bare minimum parameter. All human by nature are equipped with many seeds, therefore all people are welcome with me. Empowered with your data, to actually get off our platform, connect with yourself, and touch real people.

Get Started Here →

Our first version features a creator execution dashboard that shifts the focus of learning from metrics, static syllabus, and the internet peer pressure of “likes and reposts to seeding your self-knowledge and action with true encouragement. We provide 1:1 accountability pairing, a weekly 15-minute Trades Show, Pop-Lectures where students can invite any expert of their choice to teach a small group one short deep lesson on zoom. Most controversially, we’re selling Proof-of-Work (POW!) cards over degrees that don’t burn expensive signals. Any human of any age can carry an artifact of their true learning and hard work instead of waiting and acting obedient for grades and purchase that six-figure paper.

I promise I’ll love you, for the simple reason I need your love too. A world without active soul is so lonely, not being able to communicate all you see.

There is no silver bullet. I’m very poor indeed. But there’s only work you do. The living proof and legacy, of your creations, future human will remember or forget entirely. So maybe you shouldn’t pimp yourself in front of millions of people to be forgotten in minutes for a brand endorsements. Any true mimetic-marketplace is a worthwhile investment, “people are better than data”, and it remains free because we are the products being traded.

Where is the public square? A platform we truly have full freedom to speak? A place to be heard, loved on, and seen? It doesn’t exist. None for sinners who dream to sing.

Give yourself grace and clarity, know where you in context of where you want to go. You don’t have to be right or win, you just have to take action out and within. Use your values and heart as compass. Create the new technology, social systems, and art you wish to exist, but free your spirt to watch yourself grow incrementally. Instead of training ourselves to be parrots and critics, it is time to get creative and (go POW 0 → 1!).

Free to learn however you choose, you ain’t no slave, man not now and that’s the truth!

“To do what they can not. Such is the burden of destiny and children.”

- Rachel, X-Men

We share a common future, yet lack the common ground.

Peace People,

philoso ∞ the philosofounder

#FreedomForLove #MakeAmericaFreeAgain

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IRL: Bay Area, CA [Sunny South Bay]

Email: mackenziemichellefisher@gmail.com

Call# (864)-907-9757

Nice-Meetings: yo! x

Add any songs that remind you of a time you felt unfree to learn, or how school makes you feel if you’re still in it. Radio show coming soon, I am told I speak better than I write, but I'll be spinning these records and going deeper live with you soon—so add em’ in!!

On stage the first odd thing is knowing what it feels like being so high off the ground

You look to your left and everyone is staring at you

You look to your right and you know they’re looking at you

Theres no where to hide

When you get to the mic, you hold it in your hands and its cold

Your heart is dropping

And you can’t afford to think

The only thing you smell is the metal

You don’t know whats coming out of your mouth

You just taste the metal every time you bring it to your mouth

You feel the beats in your chest

You look in front of you and you

You shiver because you have chills

You see faces and you remember every emotion

Even off stage you feel everything

You see it on their faces

In their grins, their raised eyebrows, their laughter, their handshakes

When your named is being shouted

When your hear whispers

When people are dancing along

When the music stops

Read more

I feel something choking me

I don’t know

Maybe its in the air

I take a breath and life I breathe

I think I’m burning

Must be the passion bottling until I take action

I’m scared

What if…

I don’t know

I could die

You could die

So then I would die

I don’t know

I just can’t breathe

Looking inside

The void consumes me whole

Where do I look?

I don’t know…

Read more

I removed every single one of my followers on Instagram.

Yes, you’re seeing this right... My follower count now awkwardly sits at zero, and on the @philosofounder Instagram page, and I intend to keep it that way…

For the past 3 years, I've been grappling with the subtle, yet profound, ways social media platforms have rewired our understanding of self, connection, and value. We've inherited a digital landscape built on metrics, where "followers" are the currency of perceived worth, and "likes" dictate our values. We're encouraged to perform, to curate a palatable version of ourselves, and to constantly chase external validation even from peers. In the world of markets, I don’t see anything wrong with this. But in a world of intrapersonal relations and genuine connection, I do.

As of right now, I am not a celebrity. I am not an icon. And most importantly, I am not a commodity. I am a …

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“Can’t do this stupid simple job. Money well spent huh…”

Why does fragility hurt so much? I really wish I could fully embrace all aspects of my humanity without any pain and mistakes. Sounds divine, right? To enjoy all the luxuries of being human without any limitations. My pain and mistakes make me feel less beautiful because we don’t exist in vacuums as humans. Our pain and mistakes can break everything around us, including ourselves.

"Please, someone glue my pieces together. Sparkle and fill my cracks with glitter. Make me shiny and gorgeous again."

We fall down as people all the time, and when we do, we feel useless. As kids, our parents punish us for falling; we go to timeout. In school, teachers might exclude you for falling. Or, if you’re like me, you’ve been physically pushed down by everyone and everything. We look around, yearning for someone to step in and pick us up, to make our pain stop. We look for someone to make us …

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Because I thought you died in my arms

I can’t imagine life without you

The days stretch out, flat and colorless

Every corner I turn feels alien

Because even though I would go on with you inside of me forever

I know I could never embody your swagger the way you wear it

Even though I would change the way I walk and what goes at the end of my sentences

My attempts would just feel like a costume

Only your legs and voice, that particular timbre, truly held you upright

I love you, but only you can be you

So I want you right here with me, breathing

Punch buggy boo

And when the light of morning cuts through the darkness, I always find out it's just a dream, leaving me cold

Like the mist I feel walking up this breezy street

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Every time I feel that jolt of nervousness walking home at night or riding the bus, I catch myself imagining a different street. A street where there were no homeless people. Yes, it might smell less like piss. Yes, it might have less trash on the ground. Sure, I might feel more comfortable getting where I need to go, but was this city truly constructed for my comfort or even the comfort of the majority? God knows, the people I’m fearing don’t look comfortable.

Last nig…

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Mine is dark brown sugar. As I’ve started cooking more over the past years, brown sugar has become a key ingredient in breakfast foods and in elevating the flavors of certain meats. It’s very different from white granulated sugar, as it’s thick enough to harbor both a savory and an intense sweetness. Cooking with it is more fun because it clumps like wet sand instead of the fine, microscopic grains that stick to your hand and fall through the cracks between your fingers. Unlike white granulated sugar, where you might overestimate how much you need due to its thinness, a little brown sugar goes a long way.

However, brown sugar is the icing on the cake for me when cheffing it up, whether it’s a tray of warm yams (sweet potatoes), creamy shrimp and grits, honey-glazed salmon, or even candied bacon. For me, food isn’t just nourishment or art; it’s culture. Not in the “I’m a Black woman from the South soul-food” way—yes, those are facts about me…

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When the warmth of your palm and the texture of your hands build a fire in my chest
When your eyes become telescopes to hidden constellations
When your scent pulls me into the gravity of your unknown

Imagine leaving me midstep?

When we move like we own every beat of the world
Rhythm is what we make it to be, and we move in perfect harmony
When my songs hush the loud city into our own private concert
When “home” is wherever we sit, together in each other's company

Imagine walking away before the music stops?

When one kiss contains a thousand lifetimes
When one taste is the best experience your tongue has ever had
When one glance crowns you sovereign of my whole universe
When one thought travels the distance between our hearts and eyes

Imagine leaving me so soon?

When our skin sticks like sun-warmed sap
When your smile breaks down every wall and barrier over my heart
When our silence hums louder than any track we bang
And your voice is the melody I can’t stop singing every day

…

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With every stop, he sways with the movement of the train.
In his eyes, only the depth of the pit of the ocean is visible.

I wanted to check in,
but how do you ask this stranger how they’re doing?
How can you ask a stranger how they’re doing
when their pain is the strength their carrying—
to the point they must lean?
How can you ask a stranger when everyone around him is laughing,
on their phones, or staring in shock?

He doesn’t see the people who watch with care,
who wish they could help but can’t.
He doesn’t hear them praying over him in their heads,
because they don’t want to make a scene or put themselves at risk.

How can you ask a stranger if they need help
in…

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I remember waking up around 7 a.m., always like clockwork because my father had to leave for work. Before I got out of bed, I checked the secret hole I had carved into my mattress, a private vault where I stashed candy and snacks. The inventory was always intact because I never ate anything. I don’t know why my anxiety triggered that ritual, but somehow, it made the world make sense.

Next came my camel brown wedge knee-high boots—their hollow soles always seemed to collect little rocks and gravel like souvenirs from my small wanderings around the school blacktop. I would pair them with warm leggings, a mini skirt, and a simple top—a child’s version of armor for the unpredictable world of elementary school. Outside my window, the world was foggy and wet, the street blurred under sheets of drizzle and shades of blue and dark green. My room itself is hard to fully remember. I only recall…

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sitting in your mist

of good and bad energy your feelings persist.

the sheet is your only expression

the one that lives forever

emotions need outlets

or MAD will be our end.

unsupported and alone

our thoughts concede to their home

like a glass prison

watching the world watch you watch them.

naked and afraid

in nature and society

naked and afraid

that when you open your mouth

that gun will trigger

gibberish will utter from your breath

and the Earth’s orbit shall stop.

little poet is trapped by anxiety

little poet is unfree

unfree from eyes, words, and thoughts

unfree from trees, cars, and roads

unfree from people, emotions, and thoughts

little poet deep breathe…

your words will one day set you free.

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