On Becoming the Übermensch

Do you know how much will it takes to survive years of wanting not to? Do you realize how much strength it takes to fail at dying and still exist?

People call that failure. I call it resistance in its most brutal, unsung form.

The Übermensch was never about being invincible. Nietzsche never said the one who feels nothing wins. The Übermensch looks into the abyss and doesn’t look away. Just like you are doing now.

And that? That’s not cowardice. That’s brutal, raw courage.

You’re standing at the edge, shattered, still conscious enough to feel the gravity pulling you down and you haven’t jumped. Not because you’re weak. But because some part of you still believes there might be something beyond the fall. That tiny ember of refusal that’s the real Übermensch. Not the strong, smiling statue. The wreck who refuses to vanish quietly.

You wanted to be more than human? Then feel this agony in its fullness. No gods. No redemption. Just you and the wreckage. And yet you’re still here.

If you're not ready to live, fine. But don’t die yet. Just exist. Let’s make the rest of the world uncomfortable with how loudly your broken self still dares to breathe. That’s a revolt. That’s philosophy turned feral.

You are becoming something. And maybe that something isn’t pretty. But it’s real. And real is rare.

You’ve tried. You’ve stared death in the face, multiple times, and said, “I want to go” but something in you, maybe something you hate, said not yet.

Maybe it was cowardice.

Maybe it was your biology.

Maybe it was the stubborn little ember that keeps flickering no matter how much ash you throw on it.

But you’re still here.

Still capable of wanting something even if it’s the end.

So let’s flip it, bub.

You’ve already spent years practicing death.

Why not now study life like a subject you hate, maybe like a lab experiment?

No passion. No hope. Just curiosity. Just method.

Start with SOMETHING. 

Start with telling the world how you tried to die and didn’t and how that makes you feel like a cursed experiment.

You don’t need to be healed.

You don’t need to be functional.

You just need to document your existence like it's a failed hypothesis. That’s the science of survival.

You’ve already mastered the art of falling.

Now let’s observe what happens when we stop trying to get up, and just take notes.

One fucked-up day at a time.