Defending “free will” is like trying to lasso the wind. Every particle in your body—every thought you think—is determined by forces beyond your control. And yet, here we are, pretending we’ve got some kind of cosmic remote control, pushing buttons, making choices. It’s cute, honestly. And it’s also catastrophic. It’s time to end the delusion once and for all: you’re not running the show. You’re more like a moth caught in the exhaust of a rocket launch—getting blown in a million directions while insisting you’re choosing the flight path.
Let me spell it out: every thought, every feeling, every “decision” you think you’re making is just atoms doing their thing. You’re nothing but a beautifully crafted meat puppet, and the universe is yanking all the strings. But hey, keep believing you’re in control if that makes you feel better. I’ll wait while you go shake your fist at the sky.
And quantum physics? Please. The last thread holding on to free will by its fingernails. Just because the tiniest particles behave like they’re on acid doesn’t mean we’re in control of anyting. “Uncertainty” doesn’t equal freedom. It just means the universe is wildin’ out at the subatomic level.
You think letting go of control means giving up, surrendering to some fatalistic bullshit? Nah. Dropping the illusion of control is where the real power kicks in. Imagine the freedom of knowing that whatever happens next was always going to happen. There’s no “should’ve,” no “could’ve,” no replaying your mess-ups in a loop until your brain bleeds.
You’re more like a moth caught in the exhaust of a rocket launch—getting blown in a million directions while insisting you’re choosing the flight path.
You could’ve done nothing differently. Why? Because there’s no “you” to do it. Every choice you’ve ever made was just particles following laws older than time. The cosmos has been writing your story long before you ever crawled out of your mom’s womb. So the next time you find yourself judging or criticizing yourself, stop and remind yourself: It had to happen. Let it go.
But don’t get it twisted. This isn’t about passivity. This is about a new kind of power, a surrender that’s more explosive than any act of control you’ve ever attempted. Because when you let go, the universe stops being your enemy, and you become part of its pulse.
Imagine walking into every situation with zero fucks given. The promotion you didn’t get? Inevitable. The breakup that wrecked you? Preordained. You’re not losing, you’re experiencing. You’re part of this cosmic puppet show, and it’s high time you stopped taking it all so seriously.
When shit hits the fan—and it will—you get to smirk and say, “This was always going to happen. So why sweat it?” You’re free to be without the mental gymnastics of trying to alter outcomes that were set in stone before you even took your first breath.
You’re losing your mind about the day-to-day grind, the expectations, the disappointments. But it’s like being at a party and obsessing over what the DJ’s going to play next. The playlist is already loaded, and no matter how much you scream for a track change, it’s gonna play what it’s gonna play. Do you waste your energy screaming at the DJ? Or do you grab a drink, relax, and let the beat take you wherever it’s already headed?
From this vantage point, everything that seemed monumental, life-shattering? It’s a passing thought, an idea flickering across the massive movie screen that is your life. But you’re not the actor. You’re the screen. And what’s showing on that screen? It doesn’t matter! The screen isn’t tied to the plot—it’s the constant.
You can stop playing chess with the universe and start being the chessboard. Infinite. Indifferent to the pieces. Untouchable.
Think of life like this: you’re strapped into a rollercoaster that was designed for you specifically. No exits, no emergency stop buttons. You’re going up, down, sideways—sometimes puking your guts out, sometimes laughing your ass off—but you don’t get to steer.
Once you step out of the illusion of control, you stop being a victim of circumstances. The universe isn’t something to wrestle with anymore; it’s something you flow with. It’s like realizing the river’s current has been carrying you the whole time, and you can finally put down the fucking oars.
You’ve been conditioned to believe letting go is weak. It’s the opposite. This is where you reclaim your crown. Every decision, every mistake, every heartbreak—it was always written. You can stop playing chess with the universe and start being the chessboard. Infinite. Indifferent to the pieces. Untouchable.
The universe is surgical, cutting the exact path you were always meant to walk. And once you stop scrambling for the steering wheel, you’ll feel the ridiculous weight of it all lift off your shoulders. Suddenly, there’s space for joy, for play, for cosmic fucking laughter. You’ve been running in a hamster wheel, trying to escape a destiny you never had any chance of outrunning.
The beauty of this revelation is that once you get it—really get it—you stop caring. About everything. Your anxiety? Poof. Gone. The opinions of others? LOL, as if that ever mattered. You realize you’re not here to win, you’re just here to be. And suddenly, life’s just a game you’re playing without worrying about the score.
So, what’s the next move? Simple. You laugh. You let go. You let the current take you exactly where you’re meant to go because that’s where you’re already headed.
Freedom isn’t the ability to choose. Freedom is realizing you never needed to.