Hi there, my name is Adam Blvck, and I want to announce something quite peculiar: we’re currently living at the end of the world.
Funny enough, I mean that literally. The “end of the world” is always the thing that’s at the edge of the now, the current moment. Right now, we’re at this edge. But every time a new “end of the world” approaches—whether it’s a nightmare, a test, a significant change in life—it feels catastrophic. Yet somehow, each time we stretch ourselves, and the horizon expands. Each “end of the world” becomes just another horizon we cross, only to find yet another one waiting for us. Every end-of-the-world experience merges us with it and expands our boundaries further.
I want to capture this even more deeply: Even though the Big Bang happened billions of years ago, and events like the Inquisition occurred hundreds of years ago, or world wars happened about a century ago, the real “end of the world” is right ahead in our noses, right now, in this very moment. Besides the fact that we’re genuinely living through insane times, every one of these insanities becomes tomorrow’s normal. It’s typical of our era to feel like we’re at the absolute edge of what’s possible, on the brink of complete transformation.
What I mean to tell you, is that it feels like we’re essentially living on an exponential curve. Think about it: how fast does an exponential function change? Well, it changes exponentially. It’s a profound insight from mathematics and physics that anything exponential changes at an exponential rate—and that rate of change itself is exponential. It just keeps going. But what makes it even stranger is our perception of time, something still not fully understood.
Funnily enough, in my bachelor’s thesis, I’m studying time operators, trying to understand time through quantum mechanics by experimenting with particles bouncing off barriers. But my main point here is this: in every moment of our lives we’re living on this critical point on the exponential curve of life, where a slight look ahead is met with seemingly exponential difficulty increase, whereas looking back, reveals that everything is rather flat, trivial, perhaps even uneventful. I think this phenomenon is the main reason why people prefer to stick to their old habits, rather than try new pathways through life – we’re very much aware of the “endlessly steep path ahead”.
Every truly felt moment in life is a genuine awareness of this exponential wall ahead.
Yet, as we approach and start climbing this seemingly impossible curve, it becomes flat again. Suddenly, the future that looked daunting becomes trivial, and a new exponential wall appears. The cycle repeats. It’s no miracle, then, that by adding an imaginary number to exponentials, we get goniometric functions, but that’s a deeper story altogether.
If you’re growing, improving yourself, and genuinely facing life’s invisible exponential walls—taking it one step and one breath at a time—you’ll always experience growth. Yet, it will always feel like dying, always seem impossible and insane.
Here’s another thought: with the ever-increasing interconnectedness provided by the internet, we’re becoming hyper-aware of catastrophic “end-of-the-world” scenarios happening around the globe. A single glance at social media can catapult us into mega-awareness, a “mega-mega” scale of existence.
I claim that this increased awareness of “THIS IS INSANE – IT’S OVER GUYS” is the dawning awareness of the “exponentially tall curve ahead of us”, and the amygdala becoming incredibly perturbed because of this dynamic, more than anything else.
Considering everything I’ve said, understand this clearly: the more interconnected we become, the more we’ll experience collective end-of-the-world moments. Yet, each collective crisis pushes our horizons further, towards a better and more beautiful journey. The real question is, will we take ownership of our apocalyptic chemistry lab, which we may call our personal bodies, when faced with personal apocalyptic events?
Our bodies naturally resist change because change symbolizes potential death, something culturally embedded as sins or mistakes. Originally, a sin was just a practical mistake—like getting wood wet and thus having no fire, leading to freezing to death. So culturally, we fear death, pain, and non-existence. But each apocalyptic event is meant to soften us up, preparing us for the exponential changes ahead.
We truly live in crazy times, where black might be called white, and white might be called black. During moments of profound change, all bits flip, and the usual landing spots for truth no longer apply. This is where we find ourselves now: right at the exponential edge, ready for whatever comes next.
Thank you for reading.
