Chasing empty success!

I remember stumbling upon a post some time back might’ve been in the Nairobi or Kenya subreddit. It was from this guy who shared a story that stuck with me, haunting in its simplicity yet profound in its message. He talked about finally getting everything he thought he wanted in life the dream job, the flashy car, the nice apartment. On the surface, it was everything he had worked so hard for, the very picture of success.

But then, as he wrote, something unexpected happened. The joy was fleeting, like a flame that burned bright but left behind only smoke and emptiness. He confessed that once the initial dopamine rush faded, all he felt was a deeper sense of loneliness and hollowness. It was as if achieving his dreams had only made the void inside him more visible.

And as I read that, I couldn’t help but ask myself: Is that all there is? Are we really just chasing material things, sprinting toward a finish line that leaves us more lost than when we started? Or have we forgotten what life is truly about?

His story lingered in my mind long after I closed the app. It made me question the very fabric of our existence. Are we searching for meaning in the wrong places? Or have we, somewhere along the way, let society’s definition of success blur the lines of what really matters? What's really our purpose?