lost in their own delusions

they walk around—
with crowns.
made of comment sections.
and mirrors.
glued into their pupils.

talking like prophets.
typing like gods.
crying in public bathrooms—
because somebody left them on “read”.

and honestly?
it would be tragic…
if it wasn’t so funny.

because everybody is selling enlightenment now.

“buy my course.”
“heal your inner child.”
“manifest abundance.”
“drink moon water— backwards— while mercury does cartwheels in asparagus.”

and people nod:
“yes. yes. this feels… scientific.”

we are all—
one motivational quote away
from becoming cult leaders
with ring lights.

look around.

everybody is lost in their own delusions.

the gym bro:
protein powder = personality.

the crypto king:
speaks only in collapse. “bro trust me— it’s bullish.”

the poet:
turns sadness into religion.

the politician:
turns lies into truth—
if repeated loudly enough.
if said with expensive teeth.

and me?

i once stared at my reflection—
for ten minutes.
unblinking.
serious.

i thought:
“this is my villain era.”

bro.

i just needed sleep.

that’s the problem—

nobody rests anymore.
we perform exhaustion.

like it’s an olympic sport.

“i slept three hours.”
“wow. legend.”
“productivity king.”

king?

your eye is twitching
like it’s trying to escape your face.

we romanticize breaking down.

we post the tears.
add grain filter.
sad piano.
caption:

“nobody understands me.”

meanwhile—
your mom texted:
“please call me back.”
three days ago.

read. not replied.

delusion.

everywhere.

people pretending to be rich.
people pretending to be woke.
people pretending to be broken.
people pretending to be healed.

we wear personalities
like fast fashion.

today: stoic.
tomorrow: spiritual.
next week: minimalist.
next month: “soft girl era.”

but your online cart still has:
14 candles.
3 self-help books.
1 crystal for “clarity.”
and a frog named greg.

greg understands peace more than most of us.

a frog.

sitting.

existing.

no podcast.

no grindset.

just vibes.

meanwhile we—

overthink everything.
even silence.

because silence feels like exposure.

no audience.
no applause.
no validation.

just you.

and that’s where it gets loud.

who are you—
when nobody is watching?

when nobody claps?
nobody comments?
nobody desires you?

who are you then?

…

yeah.

that hit.

that’s the shift.

because underneath every delusion—
there’s fear.

fear of being ordinary.
fear of being forgotten.
fear of being… just human.

so we build versions.

bigger versions.
sharper versions.
filtered versions.

versions that never shake at 2 a.m.
wondering if life is just… this.

but here’s the truth—

everybody is guessing.

even the confident ones.
especially the confident ones.

they just learned how to smile
while drowning politely.

and maybe—
just maybe—

healing is not becoming perfect.

healing is saying:

“i don’t know what i’m doing.”

and not turning it into a crisis.

just… laughing.

because it’s ridiculous.

we are tiny.

floating.

spinning.

paying taxes on a rock
that thinks it’s important.

and that?
is kind of hilarious.

so before everything disappears—

before we become data,
before we become ads,
before we become “content”—

maybe we sit.

no performance.
no delusion.
no character.

just breath.

just being.

and maybe—

that is enough.

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