are you really ALIVE? —— audio included

Picture taken by yours truly.

What if everything you know—your life, your memories, the people you love—is a carefully constructed illusion, a last-ditch attempt by your mind to shield you from a truth too horrifying to comprehend? What if you’ve been dead for a long time, and you don’t even realize it? The thought is terrifying, isn’t it? But let’s dig deeper. Let’s explore the unsettling evidence, the haunting theories, and the subtle signs that point to a reality far more disturbing than you’d ever want to believe.

Have you ever felt a sudden, unshakable sense of déjà vu? That eerie sensation that you’ve been here before, lived this exact moment down to the smallest detail? Science tells us it’s a neurological glitch, a misfiring in the brain that confuses the present with a memory of the past. But what if that explanation is just a comforting lie? What if déjà vu is something else entirely—a crack in the illusion, a glimpse of the truth? Some theorists believe that déjà vu occurs because we’re trapped in an endless loop, reliving the same moments over and over, like a broken record. They argue that the feeling of familiarity comes not from memory, but from repetition. If that’s true, what does it say about your life? Are you really living, or are you simply replaying the same existence, over and over, unable to break free?

And then there are the glitches. Have you ever experienced something that made no sense—an object that vanishes and reappears somewhere else, a clock that seems to jump ahead or fall behind, a person who says something they shouldn’t know? These are the moments we dismiss as coincidences or lapses in attention, but what if they’re not? What if they’re evidence that the world you’re living in isn’t real? Some occult theories suggest that these glitches are remnants of the real world breaking through, fragments of the life you left behind when you died. They’re like echoes—distorted, faint, but undeniable. The question is, why are they happening? Are they trying to tell you something? Are they warning you that this life, this reality, is a lie?

Think about time for a moment. Time is supposed to move forward, steadily and predictably, but does it always feel that way? How many times have you felt time slow to a crawl, or speed up inexplicably? How many moments have you lost entirely, unable to remember how you got from one place to another? Some people call it zoning out or daydreaming, but what if it’s something else? What if those lost moments are evidence that you’re not really here, not really living? What if they’re proof that time itself is an illusion, a construct designed to keep you trapped in this endless cycle? Some philosophers and metaphysicists have theorized that time, as we understand it, doesn’t exist. They suggest that what we experience as time is actually a loop, a closed system that repeats itself endlessly. If that’s true, it raises a chilling question: are you stuck in that loop? And if so, will you ever escape?

Now let’s talk about the people around you. Have you ever looked at someone—really looked at them—and felt like something was missing? Maybe it’s in their eyes, or their voice, or the way they move. Maybe it’s something you can’t quite put your finger on, but it’s there: a sense that they’re not entirely… real. Some theories suggest that the people you interact with every day are not people at all, but projections, shadows created by your own mind. They exist to populate your world, to make it feel real, but they’re not truly alive. They don’t have souls. And here’s the most horrifying part: if that’s true, then what does it say about you? Are you real, or are you just another projection in someone else’s world? Or worse—are you nothing at all?

There are those who believe that this world, this reality, is a kind of purgatory. Not the fiery hell of religious texts, but a liminal space, a waiting room between life and death. They argue that when you die, your mind doesn’t shut off immediately. Instead, it creates a final, elaborate illusion to ease you into the afterlife. But sometimes, something goes wrong. The transition doesn’t happen as it should. Maybe it’s fear, or denial, or some unfinished business that keeps you tethered to this illusion. Whatever the reason, you become stuck, unable to move on. The world you see, the life you think you’re living, is just a projection—a faint, flickering light designed to keep you from seeing the void. But the void is still there, just beyond the edges of your perception, waiting.

And what about the silence? Have you ever noticed how quiet the world can be? Even in a crowded room, there’s a strange, hollow quality to the noise, as if it’s not quite real. Have you ever felt like you’re the only one who’s truly aware, like the people around you are going through the motions but aren’t really there? Some theorists believe that this silence is another clue, another crack in the illusion. They argue that the world feels empty because it is empty. There’s no one else here. There never was. The people you see, the voices you hear, the events you experience—they’re all part of the same illusion, designed to keep you from realizing the truth: you’re alone. And you’ve been alone for a long time.

But perhaps the most chilling evidence of all is the absence of any guiding presence. In every culture, in every religion, there’s the promise of something after death—a light, an angel, a hand reaching out to guide you to the other side. But have you ever felt that presence? Have you ever seen the light, heard the voice, felt the hand? Or have you only felt silence? What if there is no one coming? What if there’s no light, no angel, no guide to collect your soul? What if this is it—this endless, looping existence, with no escape and no end? The thought is almost too horrifying to contemplate, but isn’t it worth asking? If there’s no one coming to collect you, then what does that mean for you? For your soul? For your existence?

And let’s not forget the dreams. Have you ever had a dream that felt more real than waking life? A dream so vivid, so tangible, that you woke up disoriented, unsure of which world was real? Some believe that dreams are glimpses into another reality, a parallel world that exists alongside our own. But what if it’s the other way around? What if your dreams are the real world, and your waking life is the illusion? What if every time you close your eyes, you’re stepping into the truth, and every time you wake up, you’re returning to the lie? It’s a terrifying thought, but isn’t it worth considering?

The theories are endless, and the evidence, while subtle, is everywhere. The moments of déjà vu, the strange glitches, the hollow feeling of time slipping away, the emptiness of the people around you, the silence, the absence of any guiding presence—they all point to one horrifying possibility: you’re already dead. You’ve been dead for a long time. And the world you’re living in isn’t real. It’s a construct, an illusion, a lie designed to keep you from seeing the truth. And the truth is this: there’s no escape. There’s no afterlife. There’s no one coming to collect your soul. You’re trapped, alone, in this endless cycle. And the worst part? You may never even realize it.

it’s just an idea, it’s not a reality