july

It’s fucked when you think about it,how we just show up in this life without asking, get handed a body, a name, a spot on some random ladder, and before we can even understand the rules, we’re already being pushed to climb. Compete. Prove yourself. Be someone. Accumulate clout, wealth, followers, trophies or whatever signals “status” in your particular arena. And then? you die

𝘺𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘯 𝘧𝘢𝘳𝘤𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳.

And knowing all this, knowing it’s temporary, knowing none of it goes with you, still doesn’t stop you from caring. You can be fully aware of how absurd it is, how artificial and rigged and hollow the whole system can feel, and yet that urge to be seen, to matter here, still burns. Because status isn’t just ego, it’s safety, it’s validation, it’s leverage, it’s sometimes the only language people respect.

We tell ourselves it’s meaningless in the grand scheme, but try living without it and see how fast the world reminds you it matters. So you play the game, even if you know it’s broken. You chase things you know won’t save you, because not chasing them often feels worse

It’s all fucked. But it’s real.

And we’re in it