Kitty And Matthy Lifeselector: A Day With Simon

My first jump was into Simon, a 34-year-old luthier (violin maker) in a tiny alpine village. The LifeSelector didn’t just give me his hands; it gave me his patience.

I woke to the smell of maple and spruce shavings. No phone. No email. Just the soft, wet sound of snow against the window. Simon’s morning ritual is not coffee and news—it is a single stroke of the plane across a block of aged resonance wood.

For three hours, I was Simon. I learned that wood has a memory. I learned that a violin’s soul lives in the f-holes. I carved a scroll so slowly that time seemed to stop. It was infuriating. It was divine. By 9 AM, I had forgotten my own name. I was just a man in an apron, making silence beautiful.

The stream ends at 9 PM. The cameras turn off. The masks come off.

Simon immediately starts a spreadsheet for tomorrow. Kitty orders three pizzas (all pineapple—chaos even in dinner choices). Matthy sits cross-legged in a corner and plays a meditation app on his phone. a day with simon kitty and matthy lifeselector

I ask them: after 14 hours, what is the one thing they want viewers to take away from a day with Simon, Kitty, and Matthy Lifeselector?

Simon: “That structure enables freedom. Don’t mistake chaos for creativity.”

Kitty: “That you’re allowed to break down on camera. Or off camera. Just don’t break down alone.”

Matthy: (long pause) “That the selector is always watching. And it prefers you honest.” My first jump was into Simon , a

They toast with energy drinks. The pizzas arrive. Matthy blesses the pepperoni. Kitty throws a slice at Simon. He catches it, because of course he does.

Then Kitty arrives. If Simon is the brakes, Kitty is the nuclear launch button. Her voice cracks through the stream like a sugar-high thunderstorm.

Matthy laughs nervously. Simon sighs deeply. The chat is divided: #TeamSimon vs. #TeamKitty.

This is the magic of a day with this trio. You aren't just watching a vlog; you are watching a psychological war between order (Simon), anarchy (Kitty), and the poor soul caught in the middle (Matthy Lifeselector). Matthy laughs nervously

The app wasn’t supposed to blend them. But as I sat on the park bench, the three streams converged.

Simon noticed the bench was bolted unevenly—but instead of fixing it, he accepted the flaw as character. Kitty felt the lonely teenager on the other end of the bench—but instead of absorbing her sadness, she offered a quiet nod of acknowledgment. Matthy wanted to start a spontaneous clapping rhythm—but he held back, letting the silence breathe.

And for the first time, all three voices spoke as one:

“You are not one thing. You are architecture, empathy, and mischief. Use them.”

I bought a second coffee. Gave it to the teenager. Didn’t say a word. Sat back down. The kid smiled. Small. Real.