You think you’re tired because you’re doing something wrong, but the truth is far simpler: the world is engineered to keep you in a state of low-grade exhaustion so you never have the energy to rebuild your life. In practice this means constant stimulation, constant demands, constant small stresses — notifications, deadlines, social expectations, financial pressure — all stacked just high enough to drain you but not high enough to make you walk away. When you’re this tired, you stop dreaming, you stop initiating, you stop questioning the architecture; you accept “okay, I guess this is life” because imagining alternatives requires a level of internal fire you no longer have access to. And the cruel part is that you blame yourself for not being more productive, more organized, more disciplined, instead of seeing that the system profits every time you collapse into autopilot. The blade cuts deepest when you finally admit that burnout wasn’t a personal collapse — it was the moment the machine succeeded in neutralizing your potential.