In cities that have become whirlpools of noise and motion, it is unprecedentedly easy to disappear.

You can fall apart completely, and no one will notice, unless you become a problem.

In all the vastness and indifference of these places, where convenience has replaced connection and solitude masquerades as freedom, a person can quietly go to pieces.

You can go unnoticed, unloved and untouched, until you break the law.

Modern life promises freedom through anonymity and independence, but in reality, many of us are slowly coming apart.

You can be employed, outwardly productive, even successful by most metrics, and still be invisible.

This is because we live in systems that prioritise productivity over people and activity over insight.

In the open-plan offices and endless Zoom calls, we perform rituals that look like work but these devotional performances lack impact or purpose.

As David Graeber argued, many of us are trapped in “bullshit jobs” that are devoid of meaning, which slowly erode our sense of identity and worth.

You click, attend, submit, repeat. No one really knows what you do, or why it matters.

You are only visible when you break down, quit or collapse.

You are only ever noticed in your failures.

To offset these rolling humiliations, we seek comfort in consumerism, buying furniture, acquiring gadgets, or signing-up for gym memberships, but are still left feeling empty, alone and unseen.

It is not that we have all become heartless automatons, but rather that the system was designed without a heart. It desires our attention, love and money, but does not love us back.

In such a design, people vanish in plain sight, not because they choose to, but because the design allows for it.

We drift through our workdays and commutes warmed by the glow of screens instead of human connection.

We pretend society is held together by kindness and the shared vision of some better future, but more often, it is held together by the quiet, invisible endurance of those who are slowly unravelling.

We do not ask how many people are starving for recognition, nor how many are slowly and silently breaking.

It should not take a breakdown to be seen.

It should not take failure to prove that you matter.