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Is This Really Living? A reflection Against the Life We Were Handed

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There are moments when life suddenly feels strange and unfamiliar. It might happen while walking home at night, or while staring at the ceiling after a long day, or while sitting alone in a room that feels too small for all the thoughts inside your head. A question arrives suddenly.  Is this really what living means?   Not living as defined by society or tradition. Not living according to the expectations of family or culture. Living as in the life your inner self actually wants. Most people begin performing long before they understand the meaning of performance. Children learn very quickly that pleasing adults brings rewards. A smile. A small praise. A feeling of being accepted. So we shape ourselves around what others want to see. We change the way we speak. We hide the feelings that earn disapproval. We pretend to enjoy things that earn applause. Without fully noticing it, the mask becomes a medium for survival. By the time adulthood arrives, the mask feels almost natural...

The Illusion of Awareness

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Humans like to believe they are aware, They walk through life convinced they know things, that they understand, that they have evolved, Yet what is truly understood? Very little, Every perception, every truth, every belief is filtered through opinion, bias, and fear, We live behind colored lenses, transparent enough to feel clear, yet opaque enough to hide centuries of ignorance, Evolution has given us tools, civilizations, and technologies, yet the human mind remains fragile and impulsive, much like that of an infant, curious, greedy, fearful, and naΓ―ve, We have built machines and algorithms, but the core impulses, the hunger for control, the dread of discomfort, the longing for significance, persist unchanged, Cruelty is the default in humanity, Acts of kindness exist, but they are often shaded by expectation, fear, or self-interest, True compassion is rare: it is feeding the hungry without thought of reward, protecting the vulnerable without hope of praise, Integrity exists not in r...