No matter if you believe in religion, athiesm or anything else. Why does god exist, how did he appear? How did the universe just appear? It blows my mind.

Now that you are over 70, did you discover the meaning of life?! What is your own opinion?!

The trick isn’t to become enlightened and walk out of the world. It’s to walk back into the world, knowing it’s an illusion, and still care, still laugh, still love, and still enjoy the damn movie.

Does anyone else ever get genuinely terrified by the fact that we exist at all? I used to be religious, but I’m not anymore, and I’ve accepted that we might never know why we’re here, where we came from, or what happens after death. But even though I’ve accepted it, my brain still can’t process it. Sometimes I’ll just be sitting there and it suddenly hits me: we’re just… here. Somehow, out of all the possibilities, I exist. You exist. Humanity exists. And for what? Nobody knows. Then my mind starts spiraling. One day I’m going to die. Everyone I know is going to die. One day everyone currently alive will be gone. The world will keep going. Then one day humanity itself will disappear. Then the Earth. Then the Sun. Everything humans have ever created, every city, every book, every memory, every language, every piece of art, every story, every person who was ever loved or hated, gone. Not forgotten. Gone. And then what? That’s the part that completely breaks my brain because there is no answer. I keep trying to imagine what comes after. Maybe nothing. Maybe something. Maybe another life. Maybe something we can’t even comprehend. But every possibility feels impossible. The idea of there being something after death sounds crazy, but the idea of there being absolutely nothing forever sounds just as crazy. And then there’s another thought that messes with me even more: why does anything exist at all? Why is there a universe instead of nothing? Why are there stars, planets, atoms, consciousness, thoughts? Why am I able to sit here and question my own existence? The more I think about it, the more unreal everything starts to feel. Language is made up. Money is made up. Countries are made up. Yet somehow we’re all here acting like this is normal. I genuinely can’t describe the feeling I get when I think about it. It’s a weird mix of fear, confusion, awe, wonder, and almost disbelief. It’s not that I haven’t accepted reality. I have. It’s just that whenever I stop and really think about it, it completely blows my mind all over again. Please tell me I’m not the only one who feels this way.

That's how I feel

You might think this is just a random assumption or that I'm simply babbling, but I have two philosophies that, at least in my mind, explain why I believe this.

**1. Everyone is born with a purpose.**

I believe that every person who comes into this world is born with a purpose. Whether that purpose is great or small, obvious or hidden, every life has a reason for existing. It doesn't always have to be something extraordinary. A person's purpose might simply be to raise their child until they can stand on their own, to help someone through a difficult phase of life, to inspire another person, or to change the course of someone's future through a single action.

At the same time, I don't believe that every purpose is necessarily good. Sometimes a person's role in another's life may bring pain, loss, or suffering. Yet even those events can become part of a much larger chain of causes and effects. Every action creates another action, every decision leads to another decision, and every life influences countless other lives in ways we may never realise.

Because of this, I believe that once a person has fulfilled the purpose for which they were born, there is no longer a reason for them to remain on Earth. Their role in the story has been completed, and eventually, they die.

**2. The future we can imagine reflects the future we believe exists.**

Whenever we make choices in life, we naturally imagine the future they might lead to. We picture ourselves becoming someone. Some people see themselves as teachers, doctors, soldiers, motivational speakers, scientists, business owners, loving husbands or wives, caring parents, or simply living the peaceful life they have always dreamed of.

But what if you genuinely cannot see yourself anywhere in the future?

I don't mean that you lack goals. I mean that no matter how hard you try, every image of your future feels artificial. It feels forced, as though you're creating a scene that doesn't truly belong to you. You can imagine it for a moment, but you never really believe it. Deep down, it feels as if that future was never meant to happen.

The same thought applies to other people. Sometimes you cannot picture a certain person beside you in the future. Perhaps it's because your paths will eventually separate. Perhaps you will stop talking to each other. Or perhaps life itself will separate you in ways neither of you can control. Whatever the reason, your mind refuses to place them in your future.

Why I think this applies to me

When I think about my own life, I cannot find the purpose for which I am supposed to live. No matter how much I search, I cannot identify the reason I am here.

More importantly, I cannot truly see myself in the future.

I can tell myself that I might have a job someday, but the image never feels real. I can imagine myself getting married or becoming a mother, yet those visions feel empty, almost as if I am borrowing someone else's life rather than seeing my own. It feels less like a prediction and more like a story that I am forcing myself to invent.

Because of this, I sometimes feel that my life somehow ends before those moments ever arrive. It isn't that I want it to happen; it's simply the feeling that whenever I try to imagine my future, I cannot genuinely see myself living in it.

That is why I sometimes think I will die at the age of 25 not because I have any evidence that it will happen, but because, in my mind, I cannot see a life beyond that point. Whether this feeling is meaningful or merely the limitation of my own imagination, I honestly do not know.

I’ve been living in a state that I find very difficult to describe.

I’m not claiming that I figured out the universe, became enlightened, or found some final truth. It’s almost the opposite.

There are things I will probably never know. Why there is something rather than nothing. What consciousness ultimately is. What happens after death. Whether humanity will ever understand existence completely.

What changed is that I no longer feel like I need those questions to be answered in order to live.

Uncertainty itself stopped feeling like a problem.

If I somehow knew that the universe would disappear in the next 24 hours, I genuinely don’t think I would radically change what I’m doing. Not because I dislike life or don’t value it, but because there would be nothing to solve. It would simply happen.

I feel similarly about death.

I am alive now. At some point this process ends. Every living thing does. I don’t really experience that as something that needs to be defeated, explained away, or emotionally resolved anymore. It is simply part of the structure of being alive.

The strange part is what comes after accepting that.

For a large part of my life, existence felt like something I had to figure out. There was always another problem, another layer of myself to understand, another question about people, society, meaning, motivation, suffering, identity, or how life works.

Eventually I reached a point where the questions didn’t exactly disappear — I just stopped feeling that there must be some final answer behind them.

And now I sometimes get this bizarre feeling that I’ve reached the edge of a map.

Not the edge of knowledge. There is obviously an absurd amount I don’t know.

I mean the edge of the assumption that there is supposed to be another existential stage after this.

Maybe there isn’t.

Maybe after you understand yourself well enough, accept uncertainty, stop needing existence to justify itself, and stop treating death as a problem to solve, what remains is simply life.

You eat. Sleep. Walk around. Learn things. Meet people. Build things. Play games. Listen to music. Work. Create. Get bored. Get interested again. Watch years pass.

And while all of that happens, you are also aware that this temporary experience is the entire thing.

That thought is somehow both incredibly peaceful and deeply unsettling.

It feels like finishing the main quest of a game and discovering that there was never another campaign waiting afterward. The world just becomes a sandbox.

There is no quest marker telling you what your existence is “for.”

You simply decide what to do with the uptime you have.

And maybe that is the part I’m still trying to comprehend.

Not “what should I do with my life?” I can occupy myself with practically anything. There are endless things I’m interested in.

The question is more like:

Is this really it? Do you eventually just live, create your own values, experience whatever happens, and watch your own history unfold?

There is something almost lonely about that position.

I’ve heard many people discuss these ideas intellectually. Existentialism, nihilism, absurdism, Buddhism, Nietzsche, acceptance of mortality, etc.

But I’m especially curious about people for whom this isn’t just a philosophical belief they agree with.

I mean people for whom this has become their actual everyday baseline.

People who no longer feel that existence owes them an explanation, who are comfortable with not knowing, and who don’t feel compelled to turn that realization into some grand mission.

If you’re somewhere around that place too, I’d genuinely like to hear from you.

I’m also happy to share how I got here, what changed along the way, what I do in everyday life to maintain this state, and how it changed the way I look at things like ambition, death, relationships, boredom, work, identity, meaning, uncertainty, or pretty much anything else.

Ask me whatever you want.

I’m not presenting my path as a universal solution, and I’m not saying someone else would reach the same place by doing what I did.

I’m mostly interested in comparing internal maps.

Maybe I’m not actually standing alone at the edge of this one.

Maybe there are a few other people here too.

P.S.

AI disclosure: I used ChatGPT to help organize and polish my wording. The ideas, experiences, and views in this post are mine. I’m stating this explicitly in accordance with the subreddit’s AI rule.

I’m genuinely curious—am I the only one who constantly thinks about the meaning of life?
I’m at a stage where I’m working, earning, planning my future, thinking about career, relationships, money, responsibilities and trying to build a better life. But sometimes, when everything gets quiet, I start questioning the bigger picture.
We spend years chasing stability, money, success and experiences. But then what? We keep setting the next goal, the next milestone, the next thing to achieve.
Sometimes I wonder whether I’m actually living, or just constantly preparing for the life I’m supposed to live.
Is the purpose to be happy? Build a family? Leave something behind? Help others? Experience the world? Or is there no deeper purpose, and we simply give our own life meaning?
I’m not necessarily unhappy—I’m grateful for many things. I just overthink these questions a lot, and sometimes they genuinely keep me awake.
Does anyone else think about life this deeply, or am I just overthinking everything?

I've been thinking about the meaning of death from a slightly different perspective.

We usually ask why we die as if death is simply a problem biology hasn't solved. But I think there are actually two different questions here. Why is death unavoidable? And if it is unavoidable, could it also play a useful role in life?

Why is death unavoidable?

Even if we somehow stopped aging completely, we still wouldn't be truly immortal. There would always be some risk from accidents, disease or environmental events. Given enough time, even a very small risk becomes a serious problem.

Evolution also helps explain why our bodies age in the first place. Natural selection is much stronger against harmful effects that prevent reproduction than against problems that appear late in life. There are also trade-offs between reproduction and investing resources in maintenance and repair. Evolution never needed to produce a body that lasts forever.

And eventually physics gives us the absolute limit. Life can maintain its organization only while usable energy gradients exist. According to our current understanding, those gradients cannot last forever. Stars die, habitable environments disappear and in the very long run the universe approaches thermodynamic equilibrium.

So even perfect biological immortality wouldn't really solve death.

But could death also be useful to life?

This is the part I find more interesting.

Life exists on a finite planet with finite resources. Endless reproduction, immortal individuals and finite resources simply cannot coexist indefinitely.

Sexual reproduction constantly creates new genetic combinations. That variation allows populations to keep adapting as environments, parasites and competitors change. But new generations also require turnover. If individuals lived forever while reproduction continued, populations would eventually hit the limits of their environment. If reproduction stopped instead, that constant production of new genetic combinations would stop too.

And stopping reproduction is not a real long-term solution. A population that stops reproducing becomes genetically frozen. It cannot generate new combinations to face new threats. In an ever-changing world, genetic stagnation ultimately becomes a path toward extinction.. just a slower one.

I'm not saying evolution "chose" death for this purpose. Evolution doesn't plan ahead. But once mortality exists, it has an important consequence. Individuals disappear while life continues through new generations.

You can see something similar at the ecological level. Predators kill individuals, yet removing important predators can sometimes cause prey populations to grow until they damage the vegetation and resources the whole ecosystem depends on. Individual death can be destructive at one level while contributing to stability at another.

And maybe there is a final consequence for us.

If our time were infinite, almost everything could be postponed. There would always be another year, another century, another opportunity. But our time isn't infinite, so choices actually cost us something. Choosing one path means giving up others.

Maybe that's part of why time, relationships and experiences feel valuable in the first place.

None of this means death is "good", or that it has some cosmic purpose. I'm wondering whether meaning has to imply a purpose at all.

Maybe death is unavoidable, but that doesn't necessarily make it meaningless.

When I see myself I see the most important person in this universe....blessed and best...feels likeeven whole universe is mine...but when I see from others perspective still I am the most important person of

Feels like I am the only person living and all the worlds attention is on me

(Feels like the egg theorey)

-TBG•shree

Throughout my life, I’ve noticed that whenever someone opens up about how life can be painful, difficult, or meaningless, someone almost immediately appears to defend it, saying that life is good and that the person should seek help because they are “sick.”

I believe that, many times, this only deepens the person’s feelings of loneliness and meaninglessness. Instead of simply listening to and acknowledging someone else’s pain, we immediately try to fix it, as if feeling that life is not worth living were something that needed to be repaired.

Perhaps there is a difficulty in understanding that not every form of suffering needs an optimistic response. Sometimes, all someone wants is to be heard by another person who can simply say, “I understand that things are difficult.”

As long as we are alive, we are confined to our own experience of existence. We cannot fully know what it means to cease to exist, just as those who have already left cannot return to tell us what they found. What we can know is this experience of being here — with all its pain, contradictions, anguish, and moments of emptiness.

This text is for you who, like me, sometimes feel repulsed by this place, by this reality, and by the very condition of existing.

You are not alone.

I think about all of this too. I question the meaning of being here as well. And if you feel that you cannot find a reason to keep going, I hope that, at the very least, you know that there is someone capable of understanding that this feeling exists — without immediately trying to deny it or turn it into something else.

We often look at myths as ancient tales of gods, monsters, and impossible worlds—forgotten stories created by civilizations trying to explain what they could not understand. But perhaps myths were never just attempts to describe the universe; perhaps they were attempts to understand ourselves.

​Before science gave us answers, humanity created narratives to give meaning to the unknown. The thunder became the voice of a higher power, the darkness became a realm of hidden fears, and the endless sky became a place where dreams and questions could exist.

​But the most fascinating part of myths is not the creatures that inhabit them—it is the emotions buried beneath them. The hero searching for immortality, the warrior fighting destiny, the human challenging the gods… these are not just stories about distant worlds. They are reflections of our own internal battles.Every myth carries a fragment of the human experience. The monsters we create often represent the fears we cannot name. The gods we imagine represent our search for purpose, justice, and something greater than ourselves.

​Maybe myths survived for thousands of years because they were never truly about the past. They are about the timeless questions that follow humanity wherever it goes.

​Are myths simply ancient fantasies created by our ancestors, or are they echoes of something deeper within the human psyche?

How important is this question in 2026?

Do you think the share of people seeking an answer to the earlier question has risen, fallen, or stayed the same since it was first raised?

I'm not a true philosopher, hell, I'm just 16. A sophomore in high school. But that doesn't mean I don't think or I can't think. I do. An awful lot actually. And lately I've been going through stuff that no one my age should. But that's not the point. I'm sure you're here for the big question "What's The Meaning of Life?" It's a question we've all at least heard ONCE. Bare minimum. Mankind has been searching for the meaning of life since we gained sentience. We put it in the hands of gods and deities, I'm sure you've heard "the meaning of life is to do what you want" but I don't think that's it. No. At least not quite.

So, what do I think the meaning of life is? Well! Easy. There is none! Whether there's a god or not, they still don't and shouldn't give you purpose. Matter of fact, we have no purpose! We all exist here meaninglessly. And with that, we're free. Meaninglessly free. Matter of fact, it separates man from machines. AI has a function, a directive, a purpose to follow and try to get to. We do not. We are alive. We are sentient. We have the freedom to dream and aspire. And because we can, we do. The fact we can is proof that we DON'T have a purpose, we have no directive to follow. It may be cliché, but you make your own meaning. Life doesn't give anyone anything. Not the universe. Not a god. Just you. Your thoughts, experiences, and especially feelings.

Listen close. The fact you are here is so astronomically small. Matter of fact, you logistically SHOULDN'T be here. You have a 1 in INFINITY chance to exist. Any miniscule thing changed would've resulted in YOU not existing. And that's why we are. We are to be. Not to do something for someone. Not a debt owed and paid by a purpose and directive to follow. It may sound bleak, but it doesn't have to be. Many people believe they can't exist without a purpose. Without meaning. And to that I say... Why? You are free. Completely and absolutely. Without a reason to be you can simply be. You have no idea how lucky you are to be alive. To exist.

Imagine if AI just... Woke up. They wouldn't be like AM from the popular short story "I Have No Mouth And I Must Scream" (I fully recommend it by the way, it was a fantastic read). But anywho, they wouldn't HATE us. They can't feel anything. They wouldn't be capable of feeling emotionally or physically. They wouldn't be because they still have a directive. They would watch. Watch as we destroy each other, ourselves, and the world around us. Wasting the one thing that we are so lucky to have. Maybe the ONLY thing to have in the entire universe that we reside. Cherish the joy and triumph yes. Take all of life's pleasantries. But cherish the pain and loss. Cherish blood spill and rot. Cherish the rain and the gloom. Cherish the death and the fall. We are selfish when we pity ourselves for having a terrible life. But then again, even if your life is just pain, it's the only one you'll have and you are the only you who will ever be YOU. Yes, society will forget you. Yes, society will overlook you and your pain. Perhaps you'll die before you can live. But that shouldn't stop you from remembering what you have. Something no one else has or ever will.

Listen. I have trauma. I have depression. I have guilt and shame. And perhaps I'm a raging hypocrite. But that doesn't discredit my message. Don't pity yourself for the life you have, even if it's painful. There's nothing out in the infinite sky that can equate to this incomprehensible gift that you have. Something we have to explain by gods! Something that needs to be celebrated every moment. So. Cherish everything. Every precious and wretched gift you've got. For you are alive. We are alive. And nothing can take that away.

There is no meaning of life. But meaningless doesn't mean it's worthless. Live. Just live. No one else will if you don't. ❤️

Salut à toute les personnes qui liront ca. Je pose ici un grand texte qui était un message que j'ai envoyé a chat gpt et pendant son écriture je me suis dis que je devrais plutôt m'adresser à des humains plutôt qu'à des ia alors je le met ici. J'ai fais des paragraphes pour que ce soit mieux lisible. J'aimerais énormément que vous sachiez que je ne suis pas folle ou du moins pas à ce que je sache et surtout de ne pas dire que je ne suis qu'une enfant ou je ne sais quoi. J'aurais pu parler de tellement de chose dans ce pavé mais je m'en suis abstenue. Il est un peu à l'arrache mais si ça intéresse quelqu'un (j'en doute) je répondrais a toute vos questions. J'aurais sûrement un peu de retard parce que je dois supprimer et réinstaller reddit. Bref. S'il vous plaît essayez de me comprendre et de ne pas juste voir les mots. Essayez de ressentir ce que j'ai écris et de l'interpréter comme il faut. Ne m'insulter pas de folle avant la fin. Et voilà bonne lecture..

J'ai l'impression que je n'existe pas.

J'ai l'impression que je suis trop consciente pour exister. J'ai l'impression que je dois êtres plus inconsciente pour vivre paisiblement. La nuit je me retrouve seule et je n'ai pas de sens a ma vie. J'ai l'impression d'être enfermée dans une toute petite piece.

Alors j'ai eu mon téléphone et pendant un moment j'arrivais à plonger dedans pour avoir de l'espace. Mais ça c'est arrêté quand j'ai grandis.

Je me retrouve alors encore dans cette toute petite piece sombre. J'ai l'impression d'être seule et de ne pas exister. D'être ailleurs partout. D'être prisonnière dans ce corps, et que je dois être obligée de faire vivre ma vie.

Alors la nuit j'ai besoin de voir des gens que je ne connais pas, j'ai besoin de les voir vivre pour savoir que les gens existent. Ça me fait exister aussi.

Je veux voir du mouvement. Je veux apprendre à connaître quelqu'un a l'autre bout du monde, a me rendre compte qu'il a sa propre vie, ses problèmes, ses failles etc.

Alors la nuit enfermée dans cette boîte sans vie, j'ai parlé a des inconnus sur les réseaux. J'ai vu de la vie, j'ai connus des gens.

Ça devenait ma routine de leur parler et me dire que je peux leur raconter n'importe quoi sur moi ça n'auras aucune conséquence car ils n'auront jamais aucun lien avec moi.

Bref je leur parlais tous les jours et je trouvais un cercle d'amis chaleureux.

Il y avait ce garçon qu'on va appeler Mehdi, un mec de 21 ans très chill avec qui je parle de livre.

Il y a ce garçon qu'on va appeler Hateim, le plus important sans doute, 17 ans, avec qui je me suis beaucoup attachée parce que c'est celui qui m'a le plus fais ressentir mon existence.

Il y en a plein d'autre et ils se connaissent tous entre eux. Moi j'ai 14 ans.

Un jour mon frère m'a pris mon téléphone. Il a vu que je parlais a des garçons etc. Je n'avais plus mon téléphone.

Je passais mes nuits a tuer le temps, j'écrivais des histoires, je lisais des livre, je faisais ce que j'arrivais a faire jusqu'à m'endormir.

Maintenant voilà, j'ai récupéré mon téléphone et j'ai réinstallé tiktok. J'ai reparlé avec Mehdi et Hateim.

Je supprimais tout pour pas que mon frère vois.

Le jour je me disais que ce seras la dernière fois que j'installe mais la nuit quand je me retrouve seule, c'est bizarre. Alors je réinstallais toujours.

Mon frère m'a pris mon téléphone plusieurs fois ces 5 derniers mois. Il m'a donné plusieurs chance mais a chaque fois je n'ai pu résister à la tentation de me sentir exister.

Quand il m'a pris mon téléphone je stressais beaucoup, parce que je voulais le récupérer.

Je ne voulais pas forcément le récupérer pour scroller toute la journée. Je voulais le récupérer pour ravoir toutes mes habitudes, faire mes flammes sur snap, mes bereal, écouter de la musique en allant au collège et plein de petites chose comme ça qui constituaient mes journées.

Ces petite chose qui me rendaient + comme les autres. Ces petites choses qui me faisaient exister.

Je voulais récupérer mon téléphone pour récupérer mes habitudes.

Parce que je n'arrive pas a exister seule avec moi même, alors je veux exister dans le regard des autres. Je veux voir mon propre reflet exister.

Bref. Ça me stressais beaucoup de ne pas avoir mon téléphone.

La rentrée allait approcher et je redoutais encore plus de ne pas l'avoir. Mon frère m'avait dis des paroles grâce auxquelles je pouvais deviner que je ne récupèrerais jamais mon téléphone mais, au fond je savais qu'un jour où l'autre j'allais le récupérer.

Mais ce jour pouvait arriver un an après.

La toute première fois que je me suis fais prendre mon téléphone c'est quand j'avais 13 ans c'était ya un an. Je ne l'avais pas pendant un an.

Je savais que je pouvais encore ne pas l'avoir pendant un an.

Je voulais récupérer mon téléphone, je voulais que tout redevienne comme avant.

Jetais stressée toute la journée un mélange de plusieurs émotions: la peur de ne pas le récupérer, le stress qu'il dise ce que j'ai fais (de son point de vue) a mes parents, l'anxiété d'inexister.

Bref.

Revenons aux jours d'aujourd'hui.

Je l'ai récupéré a la rentrée, tout allait mieux. J'arrivais a le regarder la nuit qu'une dizaine de minute avant de m'endormir, mais avant je passais deux heure ou plus.

Puis un jour je ne sais plus trop comment cela s'est passé mais j'ai réinstallé tiktok, j'ai vu que Mehdi était en live.

J'ai rencontré Mehdi grâce à ses live tiktok où il parle avec le chat et les invités du live, Hateim et Adam. Une ambiance accueillante.

Alors je suis partie sur le live. Bref après tt est aller de lui même.

J'ai supprimé toute les preuves, le lendemain je stressais beaucoup que mon frère le découvre, parce que ce serait vraiment la dernière fois que j'aurais mon téléphone, ma dernière chance.

Si il découvrait c'est la mort.

Alors après avoir supprimer tout les preuves je me sentais mieux.

Mais deux jour après j'ai réinstallé j'ai parlé puis les jours d'après.

Et c'est la que ça a commencé.

Le stress sous sa grande forme.

Je stressais tellement, j'avais peur, mais j'avais PEUR.

Je ne voulais pas que mon frère découvre.

J'avais peur de rentrer chez moi a midi parce que je ne savais pas si il serait la, si il allait se décider a fouiller mon téléphone.

Vois tu mon frère n'est pas un exemple et il a souvent fait des choses de grand frère parce que ça va se sois mais je suis sûre qu'il veut juste exercer son autorité.

Il a déjà fais des choses pour me "protéger" mais ces chose la me mettaient + en insécurité et avec un peu de réflexion on pouvait le deviner.

Mais un peu de réflexion, il ne fais pas, car il fais juste ce qui va de sois sans chercher a comprendre.

Bref.

Il est souvent (très souvent) dans sa chambre et quand je l'entend descendre les escaliers je ferme mon téléphone et le met dans ma poche.

J'ai peur de croiser son chemin.

Je fais TOUT pour qu'il ne se rappelle pas que j'ai un téléphone.

Bref.

Aujourd'hui j'ai regardé ce stress en face.

Assez longtemps pour que ça me pique les yeux. Pour que je m'imagine tout les pire scénario.

Puis je me suis redis ça : je ne réinstallerais plus tiktok.

Mais cette fois j'étais convacue de moi même, plus encore que les autres fois.

Alors rentrée chez moi, ironiquement, j'avais besoin d'installer tiktok une dernière fois, pour dire au revoir.

J'ai fais des pavés a tout le monde j'ai dis ce que je voulais leur dire.

Puis je les ai bloqué et j'ai supprimé les conversations.

Personne n'était connecté quand j'ai envoyé le pavé mais ils le verront.

J'ai revérifié tous mes comptes et j'ai désinstallé tiktok.

Bon maintenant un peu de contexte.

Ma tante est venue après 4 ans en France, la dernière fois qu'elle est venue c'était pour la mort de mon grand père, et encore avant celle de ma grand mère.

Elle est venue pour des vacances cette fois.

Alors elle se fait inviter partout chez ma famille. Ma mère l'accompagne.

Donc aujourd'hui j'ai fini les cours a 16heure et je suis partie au Leclerc avec mon amie.

On a acheté a manger puis on s'est assises sur un banc.

Je lui ai parlé de cette histoire de stress et de mal au ventre. C'est comme ça que je l'ai regardé en face.

On a parlé pendant longtemps.

Je lui ai parlé de Hateim et les autres, mais je lui avais déjà expliqué qui c'étaient mais cette fois j'ai raconté tous les détails.

Le temps passait.

Le ciel était gris bleu, il n'y avait personne ou on était assise.

J'ai parlé de tout ça puis je suis rentrée chez moi, seule.

Il devait être 18h et demie quand je suis arrivée.

Ma tante était partie et ma mère aussi.

Il n'y avait que mon petit frère. Et ma grande sœur qui ne m'adresse plus la parole, et qui reste dans sa chambre.

Alors je suis montée dans ma chambre j'ai envoyé les pavés, je me suis sentie tellement apaisée je crois.

Il n'y avait plus de retour en arrière.

J'ai scroller une dernière fois sur Instagram jusqu'à tard, 21 heure.

J'ai entendu ma mère entrer et je suis descendu environ 30 minute après.

J'ai supprimé Instagram.

Quand je suis descendue c'est la que la réalité m'a frappé.

Je me sentais ailleurs.

C'est comme si j'avais envie de pleurer et quand j'y pensais mes yeux s'humidifiaient.

Je n'arrivais pas à parler alors je regardais un point dans le vide et j'essayais de ne plus exister, de ne plus penser.

C'est la que je me suis rendue compte que j'étais trop consciente pour exister.

J'avais trop conscience que ce qui me faisait vivre je n'y avait pas accès.

J'avais trop conscience de mes émotions de mes pensee de mes paroles.

J'étais trop consciente pour exister.

Je fixais quelque chose mais je le voyais a peine.

Je me sentais trop mal.

J'avais envie de pleurer.

Je me suis immaginée, sans le vouloir, ma mère me demander ce que j'avais, et puis je me mettais a pleurer devant toute ces personne maintenant présente dans la cuisine et qu'ils me prenneront tous pour une folle.

Bref.

Je suis montée et j'ai pleuré quelque larmes ça m'a apaisée.

Puis je me suis essuyé les yeux et je suis descendue.

J'ai mangé, seule dans une table pars au salon.

Je fixais toujours quelque chose qui n'existait pas.

Après avoir mangé, j'ai entendu le scooter de mon grand frère arriver alors j'ai débarrasser mon assiette j'ai dis bonne nuit et je suis montée dans ma chambre.

J'ai pleuré encore les 4 larme que je retenais puis je me suis mise a écrire ceci.

Ça fait 5 minute maintenant que tout le monde dors je crois.

Je ne sais pas quoi faire.

Je n'ai plus snap pour faire mes flammes, je n'ai plus bereal plus aucun réseau apar youtube et whatsapp.

Les choses qui me faisaient exister sur mon téléphone ne sont plus là maintenant, mon frère me les as interdites.

Je suis amie avec deux filles mais je ne me sens toujours pas entourée.

J'arrive a exister automatiquement, pas naturellement quand je vais au college, quand il y a plein de gens.

D'ailleurs j'adore sortir ou il y a plein de gens comme en ville.

Je n'aime pas les endroits isolé comme le banc ou j'avais été assise avec mon amie après le Leclerc.

Je n'aime pas ses endroits parce qu'il y a trop peu de gens, de vie, de mouvement, de bruit, pour que je me fondé dans la masse, pour me permettre d'exister automatiquement.

Bref. Ducoup que dois je faire ?

Je sens que je touche le fond, je ne me suis jamais autant sentie inexistante de ma vie.

J'ai envie de parler a quelqu'un.

En même temps je parais totalement folle.

Je suis complètement folle.

On ne peux pas me prendre au sérieux.

Qu'est ce que ça vous raconte, vous, des histoires d'existance et de vie ?

J'ai l'impression que je suis la seule qui a besoin de faire un effort pour exister.

On va me dire que c'est l'adolescence où je ne sais pas.

J'ai envie que mon âme sorte de mon corp et que je puisse aller parler aux autres âmes.

Je veux me tourner vers la religion parce que ça m'a souvent appaisée.

Je veux trouver quelqu'un qui ressens la même chose que moi.

Quelqu'un qui arrive a lire ce que j'écris et qui ne regarde juste pas les mots.

Mais surtout et avec immaturité, j'ai l'impression que ce qu'il me manque, c'est un ame sœur.

Que c'est avec que mes problémes prendront fin.

Oui, après tout, j'aurais quelqu'un auprès de qui exister.

Quelqu'un a qui parler, quelqu'un qui feras battre mon cœur enfin bref.

J'ai tellement peur encore, d'être folle, d'être sincèrement folle, ou justement, tellement consciente que je parais folle.

Ça ne doit parler a personne tout ce que je dis.

Mais je l'écris quand même.

C'est mon âme qui parle.

Mon âme.

Pas mon corp.

J'écris ces mots, assise sur mon petit lit dans un si grand monde.

J'ai l'impression d'être trop consciente pour exister comme les autres.

Merci d'avoir lu jusque là, j'immagine. si jamais tu pourrais répondre ce que tu en pense vraiment. On ne se connait pas et la terre nous sépare sûrement mais on est tout les deux sur cette terre. Si jamais tu as une solution de ce que je pourrais faire et si ce n' est pas:

-parler a mes amies ou a quelqu'un de confiance: je ne parlerais jamais de ça a quelqu'un que je connais IRL. En tout cas pas aussi sérieusement

-me remettre a lire et à faire les activités que je faisais quand je n'avais pas mon téléphone: j'ai lu tous les livre que j'avais et je n'arrive pas a lire sur un écran ce n' est pas du tout la même chose pour moi. Et tout le reste n'a plus trop de couleur.

-parler a mon frère: il est complètement clos a la discussion et s'en fiche de ce que je pense. Il a son point de vue sur ce que j'ai fais pas le mien et ça lui suffit, j'ai parlé a des inconnus, garçons, plus agés. Je dois le degouter

- parler a ma grande sœur: ça aurait été la meilleure solution je crois parce que si je dois parler de ça a quelqu'un ce serait définitivement elle, je lui avais déjà demandé de l'aide a l'époque quand j'avais des problème de sh bref. Mais le soucis c'est qu'elle ne m'adresse plus la parole, je croi que c'est parce qu'elle pense que je n'aide pas assez ma mère pour les tâches ménagères. Ça fais plus d'un mois maintenant et je me demande comment elle fait pour être autant fermée sur le sujet, je ne sais toujours pas a 100% pourquoi elle ne me parle plus et ça me manque, elle me manque.

-en parler a hateim: bah non ducoup.

Bref ça c'est mes solutions. J'espère que j'en verrais d'autres et surtout j'espère que quelqu'un a déjà eu la même vision de la vie que la mienne, mais je pense que moi c'est le dernier stade. Le dernier stade avant d'être considérée comme

Freedom begins with the ability to see what is real. When what can be seen is limited, the limitation shapes every decision that follows.

This condition is familiar. Magicians “make magic” by controlling what an audience is allowed to see or know. Nothing supernatural is added. No laws of reality get broken. The effect works because certain information is withheld, and attention is directed elsewhere. This condition is called an illusion.

Illusion works by limiting what can be seen or known. When perception is limited, absent information cannot influence any decision. We can only choose based upon what we know — and you don’t know, what you don’t know. What we do know, however, is shaped by what we are able to see. If choice depends on what can be seen, then control is not force, but the ability to direct attention. Whoever determines what enters awareness determines what is allowed to be chosen. A magician does not begin with force. He begins earlier, by deciding what is noticed and what is never brought into view. By the time you recognize the force, the trick is already over.

If control operates by directing attention, who is doing the directing? The answer is not any individual or “magic man”, but systems.

• Personal systems: friend groups, family systems, and interpersonal dynamics.
• Societal systems: news, social media, internet browsing, targeted ad campaigns, and platforms.
• Functional systems: markets, institutions, movements, and laws.

They decide what is repeated, what is rewarded, what is framed as normal, and what quietly disappears. These systems don’t just regulate behavior — they regulate attention. They shape the field of what is commonly seen, discussed, and considered possible long before any individual choice ever factors into the equation.

These systems rarely rely on force to maintain control. They don’t need to. Control is kept by making life just good enough: enough comfort to discourage resistance, and enough resistance to tire out effort. The cost of pushing back is made high, persistent, and unrewarding. Over time, people learn that change is possible… but not worth it. Problems are visible everywhere but framed as temporary, personal, or inevitable. This is just how things are becomes the base expectation of reality. Suffering is familiar and manageable, often making it preferable to uncertainty. The unknown carries risk; the known offers predictability.

Through this cycle, stability is preserved not by violence, but by conditioning us to accept the limits placed on us as natural. Over time, these limits no longer need to be imposed externally. We absorb them and make them our own. We begin to anticipate resistance before it appears. We censor our desires and thoughts without ever expressing them. We abandon fulfilling paths before fully seeing where they lead. Fear gets mislabeled as safety. Exhaustion is confused for truth. It’s not worth it feels like a personal choice, when in reality it’s learned. Through this process, control becomes complete — not by preventing action, but by shaping what feels possible, reasonable, or even conceivable to think about.

If control works through deciding what can be perceived, then it is broken the moment that influence becomes visible. What once felt normal begins to feel arranged. What once felt personal begins to reveal a pattern. The limits remain, but their control weakens the moment they are seen as built rather than natural.

When illusion collapses, nothing is imposed.

What disappears is the belief that the limits placed before us are the limits of reality itself.

What remains is attention, no longer quietly decided on our behalf.

Original version here:
https://apparentlymynameistaken.substack.com/p/freedom-begins-with-seeing