An Anarchic Rebellion
When I was in 12th grade I used to say “Saudi sucks dude.”
So I went to India. Thought that was the answer. Get out, unbound freedom, find myself or whatever bullshit young people tell themselves when they’re running from something they can’t name.
I lived there for four years. And after years of dragging myself through it, I was like: “India sucks too.”
So I moved to the UK. Full toss. Starting again. And that’s when it hit me.
It took me three location changes to realise: it’s not about the place. It’s about me. My escapist mindset. The way I keep limiting myself by believing that if I could just get to the right location, everything would fall into place.
Geography as salvation. What a freaking delusion.
Some of my boys still. Good guys. Smart. But still stuck in that mindset. Still talking about “if only this happens, then that will happen.” If only he could move to this country. If only he had more capital to start that business. If only, if only, if only.
System shut down.
I see it everywhere now. People trapped in these “lines drawn by humans” called borders, jumping through hoops to get a fancy piece of paper that defines which lines they can call their “own.” Which lifestyles they need. It’s a futile concept. A cage we’ve all agreed to pursue and live in.
We can do anything with a laptop and wifi. Anything. Build businesses. Create. Connect with people across the planet. Learn skills. Make a living. The tools are there. The possibility is real.
But we want to sit around and talk about things that are irrelevant. About needing to be in this country or that rich. About not having enough capital. About waiting for the perfect conditions.
We’re stuck in this kindergarten-level discussion, and we’re not even graduating from it. Round and round we go, talking about the same stuff, never actually doing anything.
It doesn’t matter what location you’re in. You have to make the best of what’s here, what’s now, what’s in the present. And stop with this “if only I was in a different location or condition” nonsense.
You’re just blocking your own self.
I’ve seen what happens when you don’t break out of that thinking.
Old men. Sitting in cold apartments. Saddled with debt. Eating dry food. Watching TV alone. Smoking cigarettes. Talking big about what others do, what they could have done if only this or that had happened differently.
Sad slave lives. Scrambling for cheap money until they’re too old to scramble anymore.
Delusion, bro. That’s what it is.
These motivations. This idea that moving to the right place will solve everything, gives me chills now. I see these men and I see a future not worth anything. A factory of sad old men, just counting days until they die.
I refuse the degeneracy.
But here’s the thing: I’ve been living that refusal all wrong.
I’ve been in this uncomfortable condition. And I’ve been telling myself: “It’s fine. I’m grinding. I’m building. Something good will happen. This will all be worth it.”
Waiting. Always waiting for the breakthrough. For the moment when everything clicks and I can finally breathe.
But nothing’s clicking.
I’ve burned myself out. I’m exhausted. And I’m starting to realise: I’ve just replaced one delusion with another. Instead of “if only I was in a different location,” I’ve been living “if only I work hard enough in this terrible situation, it’ll pay off eventually.”
Same trap. Different package.
I need to recalibrate.
I need to stop expecting something magical to happen. Stop waiting for external validation or some big break that’ll make all this suffering retroactively meaningful.
I need to live in the present. With what I have. Not in some future fantasy where everything’s finally good.
Dignified. Comfortable. Present.
That’s what I’m aiming for now.
Not this grind-yourself-into-dust mentality. Not this “suffer now, celebrate later” dream that keeps you in a constant state of postponed living.
I want to live now. In a way that doesn’t require me to sacrifice my dignity for some hypothetical future where I’m finally allowed to be happy.
I think what’s important is, purposeful work that makes sense. How I can bring in income without putting myself through these degrading situations.
Because here’s what I know for sure: I’m not coming back for some undignified job. I’m not going to be one of those old men wondering where it all went wrong.
I have to figure out how to move forward without selling my soul for it. How to work in a way that doesn’t destroy me in the process.
And I’m not alone in this. There’s a whole factory of a new generation with the exact same motivations I used to have. Doomscrolling. Counting days. Waiting to live.
I see them. And I see what I could become if I don’t change course now.
If grinding yourself into nothing is what it means to be ambitious. Then I don’t want to play this comparison nonsense, because it doesn’t go anywhere.
Not spend decades waiting for the breakthrough. Not to sacrifice everything for some vague future reward.
I’m trying to find the greener pastures inside myself. In the work I choose. In the way I live, right now, today.
It’s harder than I thought it would be.
But I’m done with the delusion. Done with the endless circular conversations about location sucks, and capital and timing.
I’m here. This is now. And I’m going to figure it out from here.
Or I’m going to die trying. But at least I’ll die on my own terms, not someone else’s.
This is me, finally waking up to what my father already knew:
The location doesn’t matter. The purpose does.
Now I just have to find mine.