I want to scream

Happy? Happy is a word for people who haven’t seen the abyss. I have everything, I have the world in my pocket, a universe of knowledge and connection and possibility. But it’s all too much. It’s all too little. I scroll and swipe and click, and each time I do, I feel a piece of myself chip away, lost to the void of endless choice. We were promised freedom, but instead, we got convenience. We were promised meaning, but instead, we got content.I am surrounded by voices, yet I have never felt so alone. The algorithms know me better than I know myself, feeding me fragments of a life I could have, a life I should want, a life that feels just out of reach. But what is a life curated by machines? What is a soul when it is reduced to data points, to likes, to shares, to the endless chase for validation that never comes?We were told that the future would be bright, that technology would set us free. But freedom is not the absence of limits; it is the presence of purpose. And purpose cannot be found in a feed, in a notification, in the hollow glow of a screen that promises connection but delivers only isolation. We have traded depth for speed, intimacy for immediacy, and now we are left with the crumbs of a feast we were too busy to enjoy.

I want to scream, but my voice is lost in the noise. I want to feel, but my heart is numb from the overload. I want to live, but I am too busy surviving. 

We have built a world that is always on, always connected, always available. But at what cost? At the cost of silence, of stillness, of the spaces where we used to find ourselves?Happy? No, I am not happy. But perhaps happiness was never the point. Perhaps the point is to feel, to ache, to yearn, to be human in a world that is doing everything it can to make us forget what that means.