THE WEIGHT OF ARROGANCE IN A WORLD THAT FORGETS HOW FRAGILE LIFE IS

There are some days that just hit you different. Today was one of them. I woke up feeling heavy—not tired, not drained, just heavy. It wasn’t the kind of weight that comes from physical labor or lack of sleep. It was spiritual. It was emotional. It was the weight of watching a world speed by in ignorance, oblivious to the truth that life is short, and death is always closer than we think.

Recent news shook me—Malcolm Jamal Warner, gone. Ozzy Osbourne, gone. Hulk Hogan, gone. Three public figures, now memories. And while I didn’t know them personally, their passing stirred something in me. It reminded me that our time here is limited, and there’s no status, fame, or wealth that can buy us an extension. We’re here for a while, then we’re gone. And still, people walk this earth as if they’re invincible.

Today, while traveling into Accra, I couldn’t help but feel the emptiness in people’s eyes. The cold stares, the aggressive pride, the desperation to be seen as important. It felt like I was surrounded by souls who didn’t understand how fragile this whole experience is. I could feel the energy of people chasing illusions—status, possessions, attention—as if that’s what life is about. But it’s not. It never was.

I’ve grown tired of pretending that I don’t feel what I feel. I’m sensitive to the energy around me. And today, it was loud. I felt the arrogance, the self-importance, and the insecurity all wrapped up in fake smiles and shallow glances. People looked me up and down like they were better. They judged my presence, unaware that I saw right through them. What they wear, what they drive, how they pose—it’s all a costume to cover how lost they really are.

I live up in the mountains, away from it all, behind a quiet wall that lets me breathe. I can wake up when I want. I can create in peace. I’m not burdened by the chase. But even when I come down into the city, I’m reminded of why I chose this life of solitude. It’s not that I’m better than anyone else. I’ve just outgrown the nonsense. I’ve reached a place where I want truth, peace, and something real. Most people don’t offer that anymore.

The deeper I get into myself, the more I see how far most people are from their own truth. I’m not judging—I’m observing. And it’s disturbing. Because there’s an ugliness walking around in pretty clothes. There’s pain hiding behind designer sunglasses. And there’s a desperate cry for meaning that gets drowned out by loud music, false bravado, and fake smiles. I feel it. I see it. I smell it on a spiritual level.

People look at me and they don’t understand why I don’t chase what they chase. They can’t process how a man like me, confident and calm, doesn’t play their game. That’s what rattles them. That’s what unsettles them. Because when you don’t play the game, you shine a light on the foolishness of the game itself. You become a mirror they don’t want to look into. And because I carry no mask, my presence alone exposes the mask they wear.

I’ve realized that many people are deeply insecure, even when they act like they’re on top of the world. That insecurity becomes arrogance. That arrogance becomes poison. And that poison spills over onto others like me, who just want peace. But I don’t absorb it anymore. I don’t carry what’s not mine. I don’t entertain it. I walk away. I guard my space. I’ve earned my peace, and I’m not letting anyone disturb it.

I’m not looking down on anyone. I’m just speaking on what I see and what I feel. There’s a spiritual filth floating around. It’s not about race or class or culture—it’s about mindset. There’s a mindset in this world now that says, “If I look good, if I have money, I matter.” But when you strip all that away, most of these people don’t know who they are. They don’t know what they stand for. They don’t know how to love or connect without showing off first.

And maybe that’s why I don’t want to be around many people anymore. Not because I’m bitter, but because I’m at peace. I don’t want to carry other people’s unhealed wounds. I don’t want to keep enduring the weight of their projections. I’m done with spiritual clutter. If you’re not real, if you’re not honest, if you’re not trying to grow—I don’t need you in my space. I’d rather walk alone in truth than in a crowd built on lies.

A Song That Saw It All Coming

Now before I ease into the conclusion of this article, I need to take a little detour that’ll hit you right in the gut—but it ain’t no detour, really. It’s more like a mirror.

Back in 1978, just as I was stepping into high school and the world was changing all around us—before the internet, before smartphones, before the word “followers” had anything to do with anything other than religion or revolution—there was a song that dropped by Alicia Bridges called “Self-Applause.” Yeah, Alicia Bridges—the same one who gave us I Love the Nightlife. But this one here? This wasn’t about nightlife. This was about the spotlight that people crave so bad now it’s sickening.

And let me tell you, listening to that song now—after watching what this world has become through social media, online personas, and ego-driven living—it damn near gave me chills. Because this sister saw the sickness long before we even caught the virus. And now we’re infected with it—puffed-up egos, inflated self-worth, fake followers, imaginary applause. We do things not because they matter, but because we want to be seen doing them. And when we’re not applauded, we’ll clap for our damn selves just to feel like somebody. That’s what Alicia was singing about.

She was holding up a mirror. And now? We can't even look in it too long without filters and fake smiles.

This song right here fits perfectly into the message of this chat, because what is social media now if not a digital theater for self-applause? We're onstage with no audience, clapping loud for performances that don’t even deserve it. We're living in illusions and validating things that aren't real. And the tragic part? We believe it all. We believe the lie.

So I'm embedding this song not just as nostalgia, but as prophecy. I'm including the full lyrics too, because I want you to see just how real she kept it in a time when most folks couldn’t even imagine what we’re living now. Play it. Read it. Reflect on it.

Have you ever noticed what a show we're putting on?
Singing our own praises, painting our old faces
The art of putting on airs in moments of despair
The act of strutting on stage with egotistic rage

A play of tragedy with self applause
Lost in the sound of it
Self applause
The curtain comes down with self applause

What is life when it's lived this way
It's just a masquerade
An empty shell, a living hell with self applause
Self applause
Here, with vanity aflame
At the height of self acclaim
A theatrical affair, the mimic rants and raves

A sad charade with self applause
Lost in the sound of it
Self applause
The curtain comes down with self applause

"Oh, look at me"
He cries out to the crowd
But the audience is gone
He is standing all alone with self applause

Self applause
Lost in the sound of it
Self applause
The curtain comes down with self applause

And ask yourself—how much of your life is a performance, and how long you been clapping for yourself just to drown out the silence? I’ve come to learn that solitude is not loneliness—it’s protection. It’s clarity. It’s freedom. I don’t need the noise anymore. I don’t need the approval. I don’t need the fake love or the conditional friendship. I’m good. I’m really good. I have sunlight. I have air. I have creativity. I have peace. And above all, I have the awareness that this life is temporary, and every second must count.

My time is coming one day. Just like yours. Just like everyone else’s. And before that time comes, I want to make sure I lived with depth. I want to make sure I used this time wisely. Not chasing illusions, but building something real inside myself. Because that’s the only thing I can take with me—the strength and purity of my soul. Not the clothes. Not the car. Not the clout. Just me.

So when I walk among people now, I do so with caution. I protect my spirit. I don’t smile unless I mean it. I don’t engage unless I feel the energy is right. I’ve had enough of being pulled into toxic exchanges. I’ve had enough of the spiritual leeches. I’ve earned the right to live light. And I intend to keep it that way.

This world doesn’t value what it should. It celebrates empty shells. It praises performers. But deep inside, people are cracking. You can see it in their eyes. You can feel it in their walk. And I’m not trying to save them anymore. I’m trying to save myself. Every single day. I’m working on me. I’m focused on cleansing, sharpening, building.

And as I sit here tonight, in the quiet of my own space, I feel thankful. Not for what I have, but for what I’ve let go of. That’s the real wealth. That’s the real power. And that’s the real reason I’m still standing strong, even in a world that’s crumbling from the inside out.