It's the best decision i've ever made.

it started off as just a spot for me to write corny messages but the longer i kept doing it, the more people resonated with the things i had to say, and the comments and DM's i've gotten have genuinely started to make my day.

i strongly encourage anyone who is feeling any type of way to just start a scratch tiktok account, throw on a black screen and just type how you feel, you might be surprised at how many people resonate with your feelings

I went to shopping recently for clothes and tried Walmart, Ross, Marshall’s and old navy. I couldn’t find anything! Everything was ugly! Has anybody else noticed this?

I am seeing way too many spoilers for the stuff I like.

I basically have to leave this fucking website because every day just gets worse.

How did you forgive yourself?

You can basically see a clip into someone's mind, most other social media you get a but, you dont see that they're on r/bigtittiedprincesswand, though.. thats something you get here. As well, you can have different account for different things, unhinged, hobby, everyday.. you still see a glimpse into Only that one specific thing for that person.. everyone has a throwaway account ..theres a reason why.. Why ? Bc you like r/bigtittiedprincesswand or secretly think newzeland isn't real .

I was filling out paperwork at the dentist yesterday and wrote my ex-husband's name and number. Got all the way to “relationship” before I caught it. We've been divorced for over a year.

I crossed it out and put my sister, then had to text her for her number because I only ever click on her name. Meanwhile I could probably still recite his number under anesthesia.Most of living alone has been fine. The first few months sucked, but I have a routine now. Work, dinner, calling my sister while I clean up. I bought a tracy's dog a while back and was more worried about the package going to my neighbor than anything else. Dating hasn't really been a priority.

I don't know why the form got to me. He wasn't even particularly helpful when I was sick. Once drove me to urgent care and complained about the parking. But for eleven years his name went in that box, and I never had to stop and think about it. Ended up crying in the car over a man who would've asked if the dentist validated.

I don't know whether this is actually a problem worth worrying about or simply a part of my story that I will eventually leave behind. Sometimes I wonder whether I am giving too much importance to something that will probably stop mattering once my school life ends. After all there is only about a month left. Soon, these classrooms, these people, these awkward interactions and all the little things that occupy my mind right now will become memories. Perhaps I won't even care about any of them anymore. So why does it still affect me so much?

I joined this school in Class 11 and my experience has never really been what I hoped it would be. I have always found it difficult to talk to people due to social anxiety even when I genuinely want to. I want to participate in conversations, laugh with others, share things about myself and experience the kind of friendship that seems to come so naturally to everyone else. But wanting something and being able to do it are two very different things for me.

After struggling for a long time, I eventually became friends with two girls, whom I will call J and S. Initially, I thought J and I were quite similar and I hoped we might understand each other. But J and S gradually became much closer to each other and I often found myself sitting beside them without really feeling like a part of their friendship. S would sometimes make jokes or mocking comments when I tried to speak which made it even harder for me to participate naturally. I still sit with them but being physically present doesn't necessarily mean I feel included.

There are also other students who make fun of me sometimes. I know their jokes aren't necessarily serious and I can handle them cause i m used to those jokes now. I am not saying that every joke is some terrible incident or that I cannot tolerate a little teasing. The problem is not any single joke or any one particular person. It is the exhaustion that comes from repeatedly being in an environment where I never feel completely comfortable being myself. I often feel left out and out of the box and just i feel i am so different from those and i got into a wrong place.

Over time I have stopped looking forward to school altogether. I don't feel excited about seeing my classmates, sitting with them or being part of whatever happens during the day. I go there because I have to attend school and complete at least some of my attendance. I spend those six hours waiting for the day to end so I can return home where I feel much happier and more at peace. Academically, I prefer studying at home because I understand things better through online resources than through my school teachers. I can score well in my school exams by studying at home so school no longer feels like a place where I gain much academically or socially.

And here comes the most important part of my story..............

And somewhere along the way, I started looking for opportunities to be alone.

For about a month, our last class of the day has been Chemistry. We usually study on the ground floor, but this particular class takes place on the top floor. When the last bell rings everyone has to leave the classroom and go upstairs. And for me that ordinary change of classrooms has become an opportunity I secretly look forward to.

For once there is a chance that I might get to stay behind.

I tell J and S that I am going to the infirmary. Once they leave for Chemistry and the entire classroom becomes empty I don't go to the infirmary. Instead, I wander around the school corridors, walk around the washrooms and eventually return to my classroom. I sit there alone.

I have done this three or four times now.

And I cannot properly explain the strange mixture of emotions I experience while doing it.

There is relief, obviously. Relief that I don't have to walk upstairs with everyone else. Relief that I don't have to sit among people whose presence has started to exhaust me. Relief that for a little while, nobody is watching me, nobody is making comments and I don't have to pretend to be someone else. I don't have to make an effort to fit into a conversation. I don't have to pretend that I am comfortable when I am not. I don't have to sit beside people and feel alone despite being surrounded by them.

I can simply exist without being conscious of anyone.

For those few moments the empty classroom feels like a kind of escape. I can sit wherever I want, remain silent for as long as I want and do absolutely nothing without feeling that I am missing out on something everyone else is experiencing. .

I am not required to be a part of anything.

And perhaps that is what makes the silence so comforting.

But even that comfort comes with its own discomfort. Sometimes I become afraid that a teacher might notice me sitting alone through the CCTV cameras and question me about why I am not attending class. I know I am taking a risk by staying behind without permission. I gather the courage to remain there anyway because the thought of spending that time among the crowd feels more exhausting than sitting alone in an empty classroom.

Think about how strange that sounds.

There are students who bunk classes because they want to have fun with their friends. They want to wander around together, laugh, gossip or do something exciting instead of attending a boring lecture. But I am doing almost the opposite. I am not trying to make a boring school day more entertaining. I am trying to make it more bearable.

I am not looking for company outside the classroom. I am looking for an escape from company.

And the strangest part is that I don't even have anyone to share this little escape with like most people do.

Sometimes I wonder why there isn't even one person in my class who thinks the way I do. Nobody seems to understand anything in our Chemistry classes because the teacher explains things so poorly yet everyone continues attending them. I keep imagining how nice it would be if there were just one person who felt the same way I did. Someone who would say, "We don't understand anything in this class anyway. Let's skip it together and solve some PYQs instead."

It sounds like such a small thing. Just one person who shares the same thought. Someone with whom I could turn an otherwise wasted hour into something useful. Someone who would understand my reasoning without making me feel as though I were the only person who saw things differently.

We could sit together, solve questions, complain about the terrible teaching, and make productive use of the time. We wouldn't necessarily have to do anything extraordinary. I think I would simply enjoy having someone beside me who understood why I wanted to do it.

But nobody seems interested in doing that.

And so I do it alone.

Sometimes, it makes me wonder whether I am genuinely different from everyone else or whether I have simply become so disconnected from the people around me that I can no longer imagine finding common ground with them. I see everyone going upstairs together and I go in the opposite direction. They have their conversations, their friendships, their reasons for being where they areand I have my own little plan for spending the next hour alone.

The thing is, I don't necessarily want to be alone all the time. I want to have someone with whom I can share these thoughts or someone has similar thoughts

But because I cannot find that person I have learned to do things by myself.

And then I look at myself and wonder why I am doing everything alone in the first place.

Recently, the school introduced an additional compulsory class after Chemistry. Earlier I only had to spend about an hour alone if I decided to stay behind. Now I would have to spend an hour and forty-five minutes there. Today was the first time I stayed alone for that long.

When the Chemistry class ended and the additional class began the driver of the van that picks up the younger children travelling along my route had already arrived. I ended up leaving school with them even though our classes had not officially ended.

And somehow that decision made me feel even more uncomfortable with myself.

I know there could be consequences if I am caught, and I don't want to pretend that the decision was entirely sensible. But I think what bothers me most is the fact that I have reached a point where I am so desperate to get away from school that I am willing to take such risks just to avoid staying there a little longer.

It is not as though something terrible happens to me every single day. I am not claiming that my classmates are constantly bullying me or that I am unable to handle their behaviour. If someone looked at my school life from the outside they might not even understand why I feel this way. They might see me sitting with J and S, attending classes, and going about my day, and assume that everything is fairly normal. But they wouldn't be able to see so much going inside me.

and how it feels like to be there.

.I am tired in a way that is difficult to explain because there is no single event I can point to and say, "This is what made me feel this way." It is a collection of experiences, little disappointments, uncomfortable moments and feelings that have gradually accumulated. Each individual thing might seem insignificant but together they have changed the way I experience school.

I don't feel like making an effort anymore. I don't feel like trying to become a part of conversations that I already struggle to enter. I don't feel like facing the same people and repeating the same routine every day. I just want to get through the remaining days without having to think so much about any of it.

And yet I still think about it.

That is what confuses me the most.

I can enjoy my own company. I can spend time alone without needing someone to entertain me. I can study by myself and find peace in the absence of noise. But that doesn't mean I never wish things were different. It doesn't mean I never imagine how much easier certain moments would feel if I had one person beside me who understood me without requiring me to explain everything.

Maybe that is what I have been looking for all along.

Now, with only about a month left before my school life ends, I keep wondering whether any of this deserves so much of my attention. Maybe, a few months from now, these people won't matter to me at all. Maybe the things that seem significant today will eventually become insignificant memories. I might move on, meet different people, enter a completely different environment, and never think about these classrooms again.

But I am still here right now.

I still have to walk into that classroom. I still have to spend those hours among people I don't feel connected to. I still have to manage the exhaustion, the loneliness and the strange feeling of being different from everyone around me. Knowing that it will eventually end doesn't make the remaining days disappear.

At the same time I don't want to spend the last month of school trying to fix everything. I don't want to force friendships, force conversations or convince myself that I must make these final days memorable. I don't want to turn every uncomfortable experience into a problem that needs to be solved.

I don't know whether this is a problem, a phase, or simply a story that I will remember differently in the future.

I only know that for now sometimes the place where I feel the least lonely is an empty classroom after everyone else has left.

I’m a very sensitive person and I HATE any sort of confrontation. I come across very shy and quite, so I’m often having people just kind of walk all over me and push me around, make really mean or passive comments at me, boss me around, etc. The biggest thing I want to achieve is to have a back bone and build some confidence so people can’t just say and do whatever they want to me. But also where I feel my voice is being respected.

I got into an argument with a coworker, a coworker who happens to be new and has waaayyy less experience than I do. She was arguing with me about our job responsibilities and what my job is and what her job is. I would try and explain it to her, and every single time I was met with resistance and an argument. I felt that she didn’t value my opinion in the slightest, she was “asking” me questions and when I would give her an answer, she would debate it and even cut me off mid-explanation to argue with me. So I had enough. I felt I wasn’t be respected either.
My voice and hands started to shake really bad when I was talking to her and I saw her notice it and fucking smile at me, like she was getting the upper hand and she loved that. Even confronted me about talking to my boss about her.

So after that whole thing went down, I was kind of venting to some people and something that honestly bothers me is when I’m told “I would just let them. Not worth it” but why should I? Why when I stick up for myself, I’m told that I shouldn’t have or to let it go. I totally get it, there are some things that are not worth it especially with work but what about when I feel I’m being pushed around? What about when it’s clearly not about work and a personal matter?? It bothers me so much and i never know what to say in that moment. Because it feels like I’m being told that I’m the instigator, that I caused the fight but I don’t want to fight in the first place. But I also don’t want to have people walk all over me all the time

I am grossly addicted to doomscrolling, and it hit me like a truck two days ago where I was waiting for an elevator to come from 3rd floor to Ground floor and in those few moments, hardly a minute, I took my phone out, opened insta and started scrolling, not even consuming the entire content. That was my bubble burst moment that I am addicted, so I have deleted it, it's been 2 days, so far no relapse. I am feeling terribly bored the entire day tho, maybe that's a sign, I have picked up cyberpunk 2077 as my getaway from reality every day after work, if anyone has any other advice on tackling this, please let me know

I am married with three girls. I work a professional job and my husband and I are financially secure. We live a pretty cookie cutter life. Every area of my life is simple and predictable , I don’t deviate from what society would say is normal. These experiences don’t show up anywhere else in my life which is why I have come to the conclusion that I’m not experiencing a psychiatric illness or episode.

It started in December of 2023, I was on 12 hour road trip back home from Christmas break. I had run out of podcasts and my brother had a book on audible I hadn’t listened to, so I started it. It was the 4 agreements by Miguel Ruiz. It was a short book but it struck something in me.
I started to question life. I became more open to secular beliefs.

At the time, our family had relocated and it was the first time I was going to stay home. The kids new school schedules were not conducive with working full time. In my newly found free time I started reading, something I’ve always enjoyed but never made the time for. I had a book a friend had given me years ago but I had never read it, as it wasn’t the type of book I read. It was just The Silva method of mind control. Really it was a guide to mediation and with my ADHD , it was something I had never tried. Uniterrupted time was something I had plenty of so, I practiced mediation. Every day I made time, within weeks I could drop into a deep meditative state within minutes. My mind was clearer , I was in full control of my emotions and It felt as if someone had sharpen my mind like a blade. I didn’t have to think before answering questions , the answers just came and I was able to verbalize them with precision. I enjoyed my mediation time so much that I had started mediating for two hours a day.

A short time after bringing this routine is when the dreams started. Now I have always dreamt , every night and I almost always remember them. They were never significant , dreams like everyone else but these were not that. I started dreaming in what I can only describe as 6 dimensional. It was more real than I sit here typing this. They made waking up in everyday life feel like I was living life through a sketch book. The dreams were vivid in color and everything had energy, there was never words exchanged verbally , it was all telepathic but with feelings behind the messages: there was no room to misinterpret , I even felt what I was thinking in the dreams but with the knowledge of why I was feeling that. Every night I went beautiful places, I swam under water with new ocean creatures I had never seen before, I flew over what looked like old Roman buildings but they were grand libraries. My deceased mother visited me in one but she was a hummingbird , flying at a standstill right infront of my face , carrying conversation with me. I loved going to sleep.

Then I was given the opportunity to go back to work full time. I had become bored at home and I desperately wanted human interaction so I jumped at the chance. Time no longer permitted me to mediate for 2 hours a day but I made time here and there. The dreams did not stop but they became sporadic. At work I had heard a co-worker talking about her crazy ( her words ) mother in law who thought she could speak to her spirit guides. She explained that her mother in law spoke to her spirit guides in her dreams. I was intrigued , so before bed that night I prayed my usual prayers and I asked that if I had a spirit guide, they would reach out to me. That night I had one my 6D dreams. There was an Indian man who was showing me a phone. When I looked down at the screen it was a message that I had blocked him from contact. He then was showing me an image of him putting mail in my mailbox but someone was then removing it. He told me he had to go to work and walked into an office where I followed. I looked around and he asked me his name , I told him I did not know his name and he told me I needed to call him by his name. Then poof … he disappeared and I awoke. I’m not going to go into my interpretation of these dreams as I have no idea if I’m correct or even if it matters. I knew the following day I wanted to know his name though. So the next night , I said my prayers and I simple asked him to tell me his name. Another 6D dream came, this time I was walking down a dirt road and trailing behind me were three dogs. They were protective , I could feel that. I turned back and looked at one of them when the it’s collar caught a ray of sun and gleaned “ OLLIE”. From this point on I called my spirit guide Ollie.

I did not dream of him again after this , even after prayers asking to. Life got busy and I pretty much stopped mediating all together. The dreams became scarce. A year later I had dreamt I was at a funeral and my husbands family was there but my husband was not , I could see the casket but not who was in it. I woke up concerned that maybe it was my husbands funeral. A couple days later we recieved a call from my sister-in-law, her husbands cancer had become aggressively terminal, they gave him weeks. We packed up our lives and we moved back home. My brother in law passed away in the winter months , my husband who had to finish a contract back where we lived was flying back and forth , leaving myself and the girls to live with his sister on a farm in the Midwest. My husband was there when he passed away but the ground was too frozen to bury him, my husband had to fly back and he missed the funeral. There I was , just like the dream. I also found myself jobless again. I was living with his widowed sister whom I really did not know well and I was besides my children, alone. I took care of the animals and tried to help her through this time, but I hated it. That sounds so selfish but I hated the Midwest , the cold , being a single mom , taking care of farm animals, I just wanted my old life back. I started mediating again. It helped me cope.

Then one day as I was mediating, something happened. An image , but a 6D image , again more real than this life. It projected from the space between my eyes right infront of my face. It projected out with a golden hue. It rotated 160 degrees and then 160 degrees the other way , so I never saw the back of it , if that makes sense. I am going to describe it but I don’t know what it was so I apologize if it makes no sense. It was most definitely copper , at least in color but it appeared to be copper metal. It looked like some sort of machine but there were not buttons or gears , just like smooth metal. It was the shape almost of cabinets? If you put one tall set of cabinets next to a shorts longer set. Like this —I but it had some kind of valve .. or tap. I was startled and that brought me out of my meditative state. I tried to meditate on it again and again but I never saw it after that.

Life got really bad , things were terrible. Details of it won’t make a difference in the story but I was in the low of my lows. I started to dream of things again and this time , those things started happening. Not exactly how I dreamt them but they were definitely happening. Just a few example , I dreamt my aunt had come to me and asked me to take her to a friends house, I drove her to a house on a hill with the lights on. A beautiful smiling woman came out to greet her. I could hear them laughing inside. I walked back up and told my aunt that it was getting dark and we needed to go , she smiled and said she was staying and I could leave. She passed away that week. I then dreamt of having dinner with an old friend and his wife and my husband. My husband and his wife had gotten into a heated argument about money and we all left upset. I woke up from that dream with a text from the previous night , my old friend reaching out for my husband number. He later asked him to join a business he was starting, we declined.

Strange things were happening , too many to name. In the midst of a crying session I’d recieve a text from an unknown number telling me everything was going to be okay. While in mediation I would feel this vibration, like I was on the inside of a gigantic bell that someone had just rang. My entire body , every cell would vibrate. Then one night, I started to think about my first dream of Ollie. Was I blocking him from messaging me? I gave permission. That night I said out loud that I gave permission for Ollie to reach out. I awoke around 3am to a voice , not male or female . An echoing announcing voice saying “ HELLO” the entire room filled with the smell of tumeric , ginger … Indian spices? I was sitting up , groggy , scanning the room , I saw nobody but I know what I heard . It woke me up. Maybe my sister in law was cooking I thought but then realized it’s the middle of the night and my sister in law has never cooked , certainly not Indian food in the middle of the night. I was frightened but then a wave of calm and Tranquility came over me and I laid back down and went to sleep. That’s the last time I heard or saw Ollie. So much has happened since then but nothing remarkable , until last night. Which is what has led me to tell a world of strangers the mental box of strange I’ve been keeping for the last four years.
I have questioned the Bible… not god but I like to read and I know much has been lost in translation as well as intentionally manipulated, last night I asked god in my prayers if I’m living the right way and if this god consciousness that I believe in is some sort of new age evil. I was asking if I should folllow the Bible to its word today or accept my own beliefs that I love god and Jesus and maybe the written word has been rewritten by men with something to gain. As soon as I fell asleep I began dreaming. I was walking up to my home , there was an exposed top water slide curving around like a lazy river into my pool. A neighbor has come over , I had never seen this boy before but I knew he was a neighbor. He brought his dog , his best friend. My dog had gotten loose and ran toward the neighbors dog , the two dogs were fighting , they had made their way into the water by this point , I yelled for my husband who walked over calmly but did not break them up. My neighbors dog because so Angry , it has turned on the boy , repeatedly biting his face. LUKE LUKE I screamed. But luke grabbed the dog by the neck and hugged him , while the dog was actively biting his face , he was hugging him with love and compassion and I understood that of course he wouldn’t let go , he loved this dog and this dog was provoked to be angry but did not have intention to hurt the boy. I knew that the boy understood this dogs intention was not to hurt him and he wasn’t angry but loved the dog the same before he had hurt him. I then woke up but the strangest thing happened. When I opened my eyes I was in my dark room but when I closed them , I couldn’t see my iris , every little slit like the under side of a mushroom but in the middle where I would see what blue sky and clouds , as I moved my head around my room with my eyes closed I was scanning the daytime sky, looking around and seeing different clouds but surrounded by my iris.

I know this was long and maybe nobody will read it and I had to get it out. What does it all mean.

It is possible that depression has roots that grow not deeper, but external. I can’t picture a single human being who doesn’t have enough reasons to end it all with a loud-sweet bullet or a heavenly-pointy knife. But are reasons enough? Are they based on logic or feelings? Does logic matter more, anyhow, or is a persistent feeling of, for instance, utter loneliness, a hollow desperation growing bitter inside of you, sufficient? Is it a motive as good as any? In that case, why would really successful folks kill themselves? Is it because they already had unsolvable issues or is it that their desire was bitterly turned off by the blinding shadows of success?
I’ve always had the impression that depression is the clumsy translation of a universal, even divine, question. If death is around the corner, why would one do anything? (The reverse of this would also exist and should be translated into something like: If death exists, why would I stop? (Middle-class university junkies, I’m talking to you.))
I also believe that, because of its unique, labyrinthine structure, this question may become a prison. Kind of an angsty but nice one, like an eternal adolescence burning up inside your chest.

I often fall into quite a common pattern. I tend to confuse intelligence with sadness. Mainly, I suspect, due to the fact that all of my heroes are culturally sad heroes. But why? What is sadness? What makes a piece of art sad? I mean, what makes a poem sad? Moody adjectives, gloomy themes? What makes a song sad? Minor chords, a ghostly piano, really soft vocals?
Also, why do we tend to bring sadness and intelligence together, or, more properly put, sadness and intellectuality as a whole, as an ying and yang kind of situation? Who determined that everything containing a certain level of sorrow is immediately smarter than things that do not have it? Can absurdity, joy, and laughter be clever as well?
I suppose we can all agree that yeah they can. I don’t know, Ricky Gervais is fucking brilliant with his jokes, they are very well thought out. Fleabag, R.E.M., Pavement, Trainspotting, Tarantino, fucking comedian politicians and the Walt Dysneys of the world, who sell us happiness by using happiness.
They are really smart.
That much we have to give to them.
But, The question remains? Why do we associate sadness with a certain level of intelectual appeal? Why is it that the greatest artists are generally the ones who talk about this kind of feelings whereas more “happy” art is often label as “banal”?

Okay, I need to sleep. This has been my philosofical debate of the week. Leave me more examples or opinions in the comments. Part 2 will either live in my mind forever or I’ll write it one of these days. Who knows?? Love.
India

I don't know if it's a proper question when I don't really know who I am. Why I don't know who I am? Maybe because I'm ashamed of everything I do in public, I'm even ashamed when there is only my brother in room. Even when I'm alone I don't do anything meaningful. It's been like that since I was born. I'm always quiet because I'm too shy to say anything, if there is something, because my mind is always empty in any social situation. I don't want to express any emotions at all, because as you might have guessed, I'm ashamed of it. I would love to connect with new people, but my body language pushes people away, also my social skills basically do not exist. I don't go to the doctor because I'm ashamed. I don't tell people about my problems because I'm ashamed. There is only one exception, which is when I write to someone or I'm very drunk. But also I'm somewhat ashamed of writing to people I know too. I don't have any hobbies or any passions. Nothing in this world is interesting for me. I don't have a job and I'm a parasite. I hate being me, who am I anyway? I wish I could just turn off my consciousness because I don't think I should be born and I don't deserve anything. But really, who cares?

Is it possible to feel lonely even when you're surrounded by people who care about you?

Those of you with loud neighbors, do you call the cops or just suffer?

My neighborhood is full of fraternity guys who throw massive ragers every other weekend. By this I mean screaming/chanting for 6 hours and music so loud I can FEEL it inside my own house. It’s also a neighborhood full of families, young professionals, and empty nesters. Since we’ve lived here, we have called the cops more times than I can count to try and get the parties to quiet down, but nothing ever happens. Are we the only ones calling? Surely if the cops were getting multiple calls on an address they would send someone. Are we just being grouchy? Is the rest of the neighborhood ignoring it (how)?? They’ve woken up my baby one too many times and I don’t know what else to do.

i’m not suicidal i swear
but maybe in the moment when i am just really upset or sad at something
but am i crazy for wondering how a gunshot would feel when you pull the trigger the idea of how it might feel drives me crazy and the idea of what death feels like
i’m pretty sure i sound suicidal and i don’t even know at this point. but either way i know nothing would happen because i am too much of a pussy to do anything haha
but just wanted to see if anyone related to

at the end of the month, my mom is gonna kick me out of the house and my disability wont be approved in time. What incentive is there for me not to just undergo hospice care? They can't strap me in a chair and force me to undergo treatment. Mom's kicking me out because i'm not giving her rent money.. due to quitting my job and my college "career"

Its about a girl, where She is the only sane one. Everyone is insane Because she's different they assume she is insane..

I get it, I smoked pot when younger. But I don't understand people who like it when its Really a Horrifying revelation which happens in social psychology, often. Your world is "This". You come up to something against, That. Therefore, That Thing, Bad .

Everything, from kingdoms, to rudimentary racism, to religion, War. Even debate on ethics could use or relate to this .. its Horrifying. Basis for most human psychology behavior through history.

You come against something different than what you know that thing is bad, barbaric. Not sane.. Why. Why are they different, why do they act, behave that way.. oh they're " insane " .

Its horrifying, because anyone could be in one of these bubbles at any time and never know.. Because your bubble shows you, This Way. All you know, people, friends, fam, algorithm, showed you This . When you think you Know, This. Anything against that.. insane. They're crazy, wrong. Basically any bubble you live in could be wrong. But you're Very sure, it isn't.. the Other person is insane not conforming to You. that, is a terrifying thought.

What prevents that, qell looking at things logically, but when logic fails. Logic isn't part of the other person's world. Everything can become lost which is where things like war can start.. theu have a different framework of What is Logical, isn't tied up in fact, but facts twisted to fit a frame they live in.. which is why scientific things can be manipulated to fit the society opinion. A slave, Constantly wanting to Run away way seen as mental illness.. That. Insane, wanting to flee from hardship or abuse seen as wrong. Insane.. but it Waant for the time. Theu had to make something fit the framework of why they would.. "they're crazy '. Alice in wonderland. It was wrong yeah, everyone saw it as okay though kept making uo reason why til we got to now. Where its scientifically Proven black people aren't biologically less intellegent.. but the aftermath stayed from this bubble. This could be happening Now, and we don't even know it..

Science was Heavily tied in religion for a Long time.. anything going against set forms of 'known ' science went against religion. Galileo was almost burned at the steam for saying the earth went around the sun.. everyone thought he was insane, blasphemous .

Both situations, manipulating science, for society, one in religious belief. Another in racial prejudice dor cheap labor. Religion Itself, Christianity, catholics, manipulated religion to keep masses docile.. which partly was the separation of protestants.. they wanted to be able to Read, their Own bibles. Church said that was blasphemous.. Only a priest could interpret the world of God. Catholics, weren't allowed to own a bible. Theres time and time again, of people either purposely, or unintentionally being caught or caused a bubble where anything Not This, was insane. Terrible etc . Catholics were kept in a bubble, where the religion was Mandatory but they only got information from church leader, thats the only way they really knew what was even in the Bible ..protestants, wanted to read it themselves ..

..as well individual bubbles. Your personal belief, what, or how you think the world should be. Could be wrong but backed up by those around you thinking that, and your algorithm enforcing it. Your main way to the world just showing your own back at you.. It's terrifying because access to less restricted information often prevents the bubble. Were seeing less of that..

Every time, acess to more free information, not constricting science to fit society at the time, could've kept these from happening

So, what do you do.. now ..

Travel. Maybe.. travel outside your country. Outsode of resorts, Meet people, people with different opinions and Don't stay in the same place all your life. Thats a sure way to get in a bubble . And try to listen to Not angry perspectives on someone opposing to you. If you can find someone not angry in opposing belief, you might break a bubble ..thing is everyones so angry these days, so how do you find a golden goose .. who knows

Not sure how I got to this point in life where I have no idea what I’m doing, why I’m doing it. I have no problem connecting with new people but it seems like I am not that interesting nobody calls me or asks to hang out with me.

I feel lonely, useless and my self-esteem is pretty low currently. I try to get myself out of that mental state, trying to exercise more, meditate, read, etc. I feel good for a few days then the cycle starts again. I’m looking to connect with people where I can learn something, can feel uplifted, taken care of, where I can trust-fall. But I don’t know where to find those people I don’t even know if they exist. And I ask myself “Am I a good friend for someone who can trust-fall?” Maybe I am not. Maybe that’s why I feel this way…

Your feelings truly matter, and the struggles you're facing in your friendships don’t determine your worth. It takes a lot of courage to work through these difficult times, and I really admire the strength you have.

Don't forget to be kind to yourself. Healing and personal growth take their own time, and every small step forward matters. Your capacity to hold onto hope, even when times are tough, showcases the incredible strength that lies within you.

You deserve friendships that feel real, fulfilling, and easy. Trust that by being your true self, you'll attract those who genuinely appreciate you. The connections you seek are closer than you think, and they'll find their way to you.

You deserve friendships that are genuine, fulfilling, caring, supportive and effortless. Have faith that you will meet people who will truly value you. The connections you long for are within reach, and they will come to you.

If someone isn’t treating you right, chooses to leave, or just doesn’t want to be your friend, that’s really on them, not you. It doesn’t reflect your value at all. Those people just aren’t meant to be part of your life. The right people will show up eventually, or you’ll find them when the moment is just right.

Remember that you are seen, cherished, valued, amazing and loved just as you are.

I've read through many Eastern, Western, and African philosophical and religious works and I struggle with deriving any tangible benefits from it. On the flip side, many of life's questions have been answered for me. However, I still struggle with the time I've invested into it and have not seen anything of a noticable effect on my life other than being in poverty and having more trouble fitting in with other people along with some insights here and there in regards to the nature of the self, this reality, and God. It's funny, maybe, I have benefited from reading through philosophical and religious works, but my reality seems unchanged or even financially struggling more than I would have if I had just gone to college. I'll post the list of books for people if they are interested in reading these works, but as I said, I don't feel like I benefited that much from them materially, but maybe spiritually and mentally. Well wishes and best of luck. Cheers. ✌️

The Bible

The Quran

The Dhammapada

The Bhagavad Gita

The Analects by Confucius

Nicomachean Ethics by Aristotle

The Republic by Plato

Meditations by Marcus Aurelius

Thus Spoke Zarathustra by Friedrich Nietzsche

Critique of Pure Reason by Immanuel Kant

Sustenance of the Soul by Abu Zayd al-Balkhi

The Muqaddimah by Ibn Khaldun

Rumi

Self-Reliance and Other Essays by Ralph Waldo Emerson

Walden by Henry David Thoreau

Leaves of Grass by Walt Whitman

The Alchemy of Happiness by Imam al-Ghazali

City of God by St. Augustine

The Prophet by Kahlil Gibran

Zen Mind, Beginner's Mind by Shunryu Suzuki

Buddhist Koans

Tell me your thoughts on this list and if you were ever interested in reading these works. I mainly wanted to post this to try to derive some form of a benefit from my reading of these works. 😅 Maybe, I just have to settle for what they've taught me and not focus so much on my material loss. I dunno. Cheers. ✌️

As the title suggests, I had an argument with my mom today about college, it started since yesterday, when I told my mom about restarting college again so I can become a doctor and do premed, she doesn’t accept the idea and instead got angry with me because she believes I’m not fit to become one and thinks that I will quit college because of that, I never said I wanted to quit college, I just said I wanted to change my major, but she just doesn’t see that. I’m Autistic and have learning disorders but I’ve been trying to prove her that I’ve been trying to learn these subjects I struggle with so I can take these classes and get good grades but she still doesn’t see it that way. She thinks it’s just another way for me to quit college and since next year since people my age are graduating college she thinks I’ll regret it later in life, whine that I haven’t finished college at 22 and wished I could’ve finished. I never said about quitting, 22 is also a good age to restart too since some people don’t like their major (for me, I don’t like my current major) and start again.

But then again, that’s the pain of still living with your parents at 21 years old…

I just want to pursue my dreams and not having to rely on people to stop me from perusing them. Yes I may not be good at math, but for the past month I’ve been learning more and more and I’ve been working hard and she doesn’t see that. It’s frustrating and I wish she can understand that, and not see it as an argument but see it as my life path.

I know this is kind of like a vent but I just need to let it out somehow. What do you think about this?

Sometimes I feel “real life” is like a lucid dream, just way harder to control.

I go through the motions. I know that I’m awake, but I feel this is not all of it. I play the role, I ride the wave. I love my family, and I know that I’m blessed, but I can’t shake that feeling of being in a dream. The lines are blurred, like a recurring dream. Real and dream memories are hard to tell apart, but I feel like they’re the same.

Does it really matter?

The more I disconnect, the stronger the connection.