A near-unanimous sense of deep wrongness pulses beneath our daily lives—not a single problem, but an undercurrent of weariness that drains the soul more than the body, a vertigo born of racing toward nowhere. Perhaps we are all aboard that trackless train, hurtling toward a void. This may read like dystopian poetry, but it’s an accurate portrait of our era: speed is virtue, slowness a sin, and those who can’t keep pace simply vanish. We are compelled to adapt, grow, compete and consume without pause, without meaning, without genuine choice.

Who set this train in motion? Capitalism—not the sanitized version from textbooks, but the mutating, omnipresent force that colonizes our economy, our language, our desires and even our bodies. A system that commodifies everything: time, affection, pain. We live under the tyranny of acceleration, an ideology that turns life itself into a race against time. Philosopher Hartmut Rosa calls this “late modernity”—a world of disappearing presents, where only tasks and goals remain, and there is no room for meetings, much less silence.