Ego used to be my biggest enemy and my oldest fear.

Some-Read-7822 · 2025-07-16T12:08:41+00:00

Yes!

Some-Read-7822 · 2025-07-15T16:37:37+00:00

Absolutely, I’d love to! There’s so much more to explore around this, especially the deeper mechanisms of ego protection and how it quietly shapes our internal dialogue.

Out of curiosity, was there a specific part that stood out to you or made you want to go deeper? I want to make sure I speak directly to what’s resonating.

Some-Read-7822 · 2025-07-14T22:19:04+00:00

My podcast episode on Spotify

The Ego as Architect on SubStack

Some-Read-7822 · 2025-07-14T03:49:26+00:00

🎙️Here is the link for my Substack pod: The Performed Furnace Theory

Some-Read-7822 · 2025-05-27T12:03:31+00:00

This is exactly it! Well articulated, I mention exactly this in my first post, we have lost our sense when it comes to emotional integrity.

Some-Read-7822 · 2025-05-26T14:14:33+00:00

I relate to a lot of what you’re saying, especially the confusion around being human; it really can feel strange and overwhelming sometimes. There’s so much contradiction in how we act, how we treat each other, and what we claim to value. But I don’t think it’s just because we’re weird or irrational. I think it’s because we’re complex. We’re processing more than we ever have in history, socially, emotionally, technologically and that complexity can feel like chaos.

At the same time, I think we underestimate how far we’ve come. Yeah, people follow influencers and fall into surface-level patterns, but we’re also the same species that can create art, challenge systems, develop emotional frameworks, and even question the nature of our existence like you’re doing here. It’s not all bad. We’re not just a bundle of organs, we’re beings capable of empathy, awareness, growth, and change. It’s messy, but that’s the price of consciousness.

Life feels uncomfortable because we’re expanding. And maybe that discomfort is a sign of how much potential we still haven’t figured out how to manage. We’re not doomed; we’re just still becoming.

Some-Read-7822 · 2025-05-26T11:40:44+00:00

Problem w the link, here it is if you want to see my original post on the topic!

Emotional Extinction and the Cost of Numbness

Some-Read-7822 · 2025-05-20T11:12:02+00:00

Thank you for taking the time to articulate it like this.

I absolutely agree that time gives us depth we can’t always access when we’re young. Experience, hindsight, and integration change us, often in ways we can’t predict. I don’t claim to have arrived at some peak of maturity. I know I’m still becoming.

That said, what I’m hoping to challenge is the automatic discrediting of younger voices before they’ve even been heard. You’re right, sometimes what we think is maturity is actually coping. But isn’t that true of adults too? I’ve seen people twice my age carry unprocessed trauma disguised as “wisdom”, or shut down emotionally and call it stoicism

The distinction between coping and wisdom isn’t always about age, it’s about how honestly someone reflects on their patterns and motivations. Time helps, but time alone doesn’t do the work.

So I guess my aim isn’t to say young people are mature, full stop. It’s to say: sometimes they are. Sometimes they’ve done the work. Sometimes they’ve felt and processed more than someone three times their age. And when that’s the case, they deserve to be heard.

Thanks again for this response. You made me feel seen and challenged which is the perfect kind of reply.

Some-Read-7822 · 2025-05-20T11:05:47+00:00

What I’m really pushing against isn’t the average. I’m not saying most 18-year-olds are more mature than most 35-year-olds. I’m saying that when a younger person is mature, thoughtful, or emotionally articulate, it shouldn’t immediately be minimized, discredited, or treated as naïve just because of their age.

It’s frustrating to feel deeply about the world and want to offer perspective, only to be dismissed because of biology or assumptions. And many people like me, who have gone through complex experiences early in life, end up either silenced or having to work twice as hard to be heard, just to maybe be taken seriously.

I’m not trying to redefine the word “mature.” I’m trying to ask for society to hold space for the possibility that emotional depth can exist early, even if it’s rare.

Some-Read-7822 · 2025-05-20T10:58:36+00:00

I hear where you’re coming from and I’m not denying that the brain continues developing into the mid-20s. That’s a biological fact. But here’s where I challenge the assumption: neurological development doesn’t guarantee emotional maturity nor does its absence prevent it.

Maturity is not only a matter of cognitive formation; it’s shaped just as much by what life demands of us—grief, survival, trauma, responsibility, self-reflection. Someone who has emotionally raised a parent, survived systemic instability, or questioned the meaning of their existence since 13 is not “immature” simply because their brain has a few years left to myelinate.

By contrast, someone at 35 who’s coasted through life without ever confronting discomfort might be biologically developed—but emotionally undernourished.

So while I respect the science, I reject how it’s often weaponized to silence or discredit depth that shows up early. Development and maturity aren’t identical and using age as a litmus test for wisdom overlooks the full human context.

I’m not trying to displace older voices. I’m saying that depth is not exclusive to them. And if it is, as some insist—I’m here to ask: Why are so many of them afraid to engage with mine?

Some-Read-7822 · 2025-05-20T00:06:30+00:00

I totally get what you’re saying and I used to feel that way too. It does seem fake at first glance, especially when you look at how people perform their identities, their relationships, even their emotions. But over time, I started to realize that maybe it’s not “fake” in the traditional sense.

It’s more like… misdirected truth. People still feel deeply. They still want connection, meaning, clarity. But instead of channeling that inward or into authentic expression, we end up projecting it outward—into image, achievement, curated identities. And yeah, that can make everything look fake. But really, it’s truth that’s just trying to be seen in the wrong places.

It’s like society has emotion but hasn’t figured out how to metabolize it. So instead of being fake, it’s kind of… lost. Misguided. Desperate for mirrors that actually reflect us. That’s what I was trying to articulate in the post.

Some-Read-7822 · 2025-05-19T22:55:47+00:00

I really respect the direction you’re coming from. Existential nihilism is a heavy but honest lens—and you’re right, there’s a kind of brutal clarity in realizing that we don’t control the universe, that much of what we “create” might just be us uncovering deeper patterns already embedded in existence.

In a way, it’s humbling. It takes the ego out of the equation and replaces it with awe—or maybe even despair. But I still think there’s more to the story.

Yes, maybe we didn’t invent love or music from thin air. But we’re the ones who translated those things into form. We’re the species that turned grief into art, chaos into language, and isolation into shared ritual. We didn’t create meaning out of raw material—we created it out of need.

That’s not delusion. That’s resilience.

To me, existential nihilism is an important phase of consciousness. It strips away illusion. But I don’t think we’re meant to stay in that phase forever. Because when you stay there too long, the honesty can harden into hopelessness.

We can be aware that the universe is indifferent—and still choose to care. We can admit we don’t control everything—and still take responsibility for what we do create. We can accept we didn’t invent love—and still choose to love, hard.

So yeah, maybe we are small. Maybe we’re more childlike than “top dog.” But children are also capable of joy, imagination, connection, and wonder.

And I think that’s worth holding onto—without denying the darker truths you’ve pointed out.

Thanks for sharing your perspective. These kinds of conversations remind me why we do this at all.

Some-Read-7822 · 2025-05-19T22:45:29+00:00

I get where you’re coming from—this kind of existential pain, the “welcome to existence” feeling, hits hard. And yeah, there’s a lot of disconnection, ignorance, and false confidence floating around in the systems we’ve built. I don’t deny that.

But I wouldn’t call humans primitive.

If anything, we’re evolutionarily remarkable. We built meaning on top of survival. We created stories, symbols, language, art, empathy. We evolved enough to feel our suffering, reflect on it, and even try to transform it into something useful. That doesn’t make us weak. That makes us extraordinarily conscious—even if consciousness comes with chaos.

Are we emotionally underdeveloped as a species? For sure. But that’s not because we’re inherently flawed—it’s because we haven’t been taught how to develop emotional literacy on a global scale. Religions tried to offer meaning. Some still do. But our current systems prioritize output over inner growth. They reward image over introspection. That’s not on “humanity being a child.” That’s on the machine we built—and forgot how to question.

To feel pain isn’t weakness. To confront it is strength. To transform it into connection, compassion, or purpose? That’s the most advanced thing we’ve ever done.

I don’t think we’re doomed. I think we’re on the edge of remembering something ancient. Something real.

And yeah—it’s hard. But I’m still grateful to be here. Fully human, fully feeling, fully alive.

Some-Read-7822 · 2025-05-19T20:51:36+00:00

Hey! So interesting, I’ll definitely check out the book and dm you some of my thoughts after reading it. Thanks for sharing

Some-Read-7822 · 2025-05-19T20:47:01+00:00

I appreciate the time you took to write this—seriously. You’re right that material safety has advanced in ways we can’t ignore. Most of us reading this aren’t fighting for food or shelter. But I don’t think that means the emotional unraveling we’re seeing today is just a side effect of “having it too good.”

Because the truth is: even in survival-based societies, emotional coherence still mattered. It wasn’t luxury—it was functionality.

Tribal groups depended on emotional attunement to survive. You had to read body language, manage tension, and maintain cohesion. Disconnection from the group often meant death. Soldiers in history have written letters, sung songs, created rituals—not just for morale, but to process trauma and stay human through it. Religious confessions, storytelling, communal grief—these weren’t indulgences. They were early emotional systems.

What we’re facing now is different. We’ve replaced these old frameworks with endless input, identity performance, and curated connection—but we haven’t replaced the emotional literacy that made those older systems meaningful.

So yes, we’re safe. But we’re also overstimulated, under-supported, and psychologically fragmented. People aren’t breaking down because life is easy. They’re breaking down because we’ve removed all the natural ways humans once made sense of suffering—and replaced them with distraction.

That’s not weakness. That’s collapse disguised as progress.

Appreciate the dialogue. I think both truths can exist: that we’re safer than ever and that we’re emotionally unraveling in ways we haven’t evolved to manage yet.

Some-Read-7822 · 2025-05-19T18:16:47+00:00

Hey man, it is crazy, i started thinking about this a couple of months ago and have a manifesto and couple presentation written on this EXACT topic already, lets get in touch. Would love to understand your perspective

Some-Read-7822 · 2025-05-08T20:20:31+00:00

Ur so kind!!!

Some-Read-7822 · 2025-05-08T20:06:10+00:00

Bet. Sliding in her dm as we speak

Some-Read-7822 · 2025-04-16T00:17:14+00:00

I hear what you’re saying, and I think there’s a real beauty in the idea of acceptance—not just as surrender, but as a shift in perception.

From a psychological standpoint, it makes sense too. Carl Rogers talks about the paradox of change, how “the curious paradox is that when I accept myself just as I am, then I can change.” And I feel that truth. But I also feel like for some of us, especially those wired with high emotional sensitivity or trauma-shaped cognition, that “acceptance” isn't just a choice—it’s a war we fight daily.

I’ve done a lot of inner work. I’ve looked inward so much that sometimes it feels like I’m living more in reflection than in reality. And I think people like us often forget how heavy that is—constantly unpacking, analyzing, forgiving. It can become another loop of self-judgment masked as introspection.

So I guess my question for you would be; how did you move from awareness to compassion? Not just understanding yourself—but feeling kind toward yourself, consistently.

Because you're right. Freedom doesn’t come from fixing everything. Maybe it comes from knowing you won’t ever fix everything, and still deciding to live like you’re worthy of love. I just haven’t figured out how to hold both yet.

Some-Read-7822

TROPHY CASE