By Me Self Image Magazine
Coping with Grief
Article Music
Listen to the Article (2 parts)
People love to throw around the word “crazy” the second you step outside of the box they’ve built for you. Try questioning a standard narrative, point out that a textbook might be pushing an agenda, or ask for actual proof behind something the mainstream media feeds us, and suddenly people look at you like you’ve lost your mind. They’ll fight you tooth and nail to defend a piece of information they didn’t verify themselves, acting like whatever is printed on the page is absolute gospel.
Why do they do that? Honestly, a lot of it comes down to cognitive dissonance. It is deeply uncomfortable to realize that what you were taught your entire life might be a complete illusion. Admitting that means going through a kind of grief—the quiet, heavy grief of losing a past version of yourself and realizing you have to unlearn almost everything you thought you knew.
Let’s be real for a second: Anyone can write a book. Anyone can invent a theory, slap some “proof” on it, and make people believe it if they have the platform and the power to push it into school districts for mass indoctrination.
Take the physical world, for instance. We are taught things in school as absolute, unshakeable facts that we can’t even personally verify. Look at what we are told about the layers of the earth and what’s beneath our feet. We’ve never actually been down there—nobody has ever drilled all the way through to see what the core is actually made of. It’s all speculation packaged as science.
Look at real deep-drilling projects, like the Kola Superdeep Borehole drilled by the Soviet Union on the Kola Peninsula in northwestern Russia. It is the deepest human-made hole on Earth, reaching a depth of 12,262 meters (over 40,230 feet). Even at that incredible depth, they only made it about 0.2% of the way to the center of the earth—barely scratching the surface of the crust. And what did they find? They kept hitting unexpected things, like massive amounts of hydrogen gas and water trapped deep down where science said it shouldn’t be, and rocks that completely contradicted the neat little textbook models. But do we question the mainstream diagrams? Most people don’t. They just take the textbook picture and swallow it whole.
That same illusion of certainty bleeds right into the medical and pharmaceutical world. We are handed statistics and trial data like it’s the absolute word of God. They take a small, controlled group of people, run a study, give some a placebo and some the actual medication, and then map out percentages: This percentage had this side effect, this percentage had that.
Let’s think about how flawed that actually is. Every single human body is entirely different. Every person holds unique DNA, a different background, and a completely different physical makeup. You cannot test a handful of people in a lab and claim it speaks for the entire global population. Furthermore, if a pharmaceutical company or an institution has a specific narrative or a profit they want to push, those trials aren’t even purely random—they naturally lean toward the outcome they want to see, selecting participants who will skew the data toward a predetermined result.
And what about the side effects that don’t get reported? What about people who experience a reaction, but the system brushes it off because “it’s not in the data”? The truth is, it’s mathematically impossible to know the exact statistics of how a drug affects humanity, because you would have to test 100% of the population simultaneously. And with people being born and passing away every second, it’s an impossible moving target. Data is never the whole picture; it’s a manufactured snapshot used to keep people compliant.
Which brings us right to the history we’re handed. History isn’t just something that happened centuries ago—it is actively being written, rewritten, and erased right in front of our eyes while we’re living it. Look at what happened to the Georgia Guidestones. Those monuments had incredible astronomical precision—you could look through the hole in the stones every single night and see Polaris sitting in the exact same spot in the sky. They mapped out a blueprint for humanity. And just like that, they were torn down and wiped out overnight.
Statues get pulled down, history books get edited, and narratives shift to fit whatever agenda is running the show. If you rely only on what mainstream schools teach you, you’re only getting the curated version. But if you dig deeper—if you look for raw accounts from people who actually lived through historic horrors, like old writings hidden away in the walls of historic homes—you find a completely different reality than what the textbook ever dared to print.
So why do people defend the official script so aggressively?
Here is where the conspiracy theory gets really interesting. Recent discussions and studies point to the idea that a massive percentage of the population—with estimates ranging up to 50% to 60% or more—does not actually hear their own internal voice or have an inner monologue.
Now, I have an inner monologue. My mind is constantly running, processing, questioning, dreaming in vivid color, and hearing thoughts. But it makes you wonder: If someone doesn’t have an inner monologue, how do they process reality?
Are these the “NPCs” of the world? Are they just walking through life doing exactly what society tells them to do, never actually having an independent thought of their own? They don’t sit down and deconstruct the information; the information just goes in, sits on a mental hard drive, and pops right back out as automated regurgitation. They take things entirely at face value because they don’t have an internal voice cross-examining the script.
When you have a population where a huge portion of people are just running pre-installed programming without ever questioning where the information came from, who wrote it, or why they want you to believe it, it’s easy to see why questioning the system makes you look like an outsider.
You might not have all the answers, and everything you think might not be 100% right. But the simple act of asking the questions—of refusing to be an automated output for someone else’s agenda—is what keeps your mind truly your own.
