Eraj Alisherov
Living on Alert: The Fine Line Between Vigilance and Anxiety
The Weight of a Constant Worry
November 2025
— I am writing this article to share a difficult truth: the ultimate peace for a hardworking man often comes only in death, when he enters the grave and the noise of the world can no longer reach him—death itself becomes the barrier that shields him from life’s burdens. I don’t know if you experience such nightmares, but my inspiration comes from a recurring dream in which I was actively participating in World War III. This is the second time I’ve had this dream, and it serves as a warning, urging me to prepare, stay vigilant, and protect my family. It feels inevitable, as if we are approaching something we cannot escape.
SERVICES
Risk Advisor, Accountability Leader, Strategic Forecaster
Backstory
I was sleeping on a couch in an apartment on Mauritius Island, Africa, when I had a dream where I was a soldier pretending to be dead. I pulled the body of a fallen comrade over myself so the enemy wouldn’t notice any signs of life. An enemy soldier approached, lifted the body, and examined me. He clearly realized I was alive but chose not to expose me; instead, he falsely confirmed my death and told the others to move on. Moments later, I woke up in the middle of the night, heart racing, replaying the nightmare in my mind. I couldn’t shake it off, wondering why it felt so real and why my mind chose that scene of fear and silence to show me something deeper about myself.
Of course, before I move on with the next thoughts, there’s something important to say: I can’t always post polished, uplifting articles about the bright future. We’re human. We deal with fears, doubts, anxieties, and the heavy weight of thoughts we don’t always share. A constant stream of positivity would make my website feel artificial. Life is a mix of highs and lows; it’s made of uncomfortable moments we would rather hide but must confront anyway. And sometimes sharing them is not just an expression — it’s a responsibility, a way of being honest about the world inside us, whether those moments happened in life or in dreams. It’s in these raw parts that people connect and realize they aren’t alone.
Some of the readers here are the only men in their family carrying the responsibility of feeding brothers, sisters, parents, children, wives. I don’t know you personally, and you may not know me, but that doesn’t matter. Some of you think on a global scale, preparing backup plans for disasters, both personal and universal — and that’s a powerful mindset. Meanwhile, many of the people who depend on you see the world only through the narrow windows of their city or country. Their worldview is limited, and their survival is tied to your decisions. If you can’t provide solutions that work beyond borders, they struggle instantly because their reality moves when you move. I don’t know your exact battles, but this is the way I think, and the way I prepare for the future — carefully, quietly, and with the understanding that someone always relies on the strength we carry.
Current Reality
Eraj Caught in a Worried Thought
I would always ask myself one simple question: what would make our generation so unique? And then I understood one simple truth: we are born at the perfect moment of another global war that could wipe out billions of people. That’s saddening, believe me. This generation of people is perfectly cooked without knowing it. These constant nightmares I mentioned above are not just nightmares; I could dream of anything else, yet I keep seeing the same one from time to time. When I walk past people or just move through my own thoughts, I can usually feel a universal timer ticking toward the inevitable. The timer flashes through my mind like this: X months before WWIII, X place, X coordinates. It feels as though it was carefully planned, and in this global disaster, I would play a vital role in the environment I am active in. First of all, may cosmic powers protect those who are considered anchor beings in such a monumental event, touching lives across the world, but I sense that what I go through is not just random. Something is unfolding, and careful, perceptive people would undoubtedly notice it. Am I suffering from Main Character Syndrome? I asked myself that question many times, thinking perhaps I needed to see a doctor. Clearly, let’s be honest. But no — I know I am not the center of the world; the universe is far too vast for that. There are people who truly matter, yet they remain unseen, quietly influencing everything from the shadows. And that’s fine. If I had the power to erase myself from anyone’s memory, even the faintest trace, I would likely do it, just to remain private. But the truth is, now it’s impossible — not on our Earth, not in our multiverse, our universe, or our timeline. Our reality has its own rules of physics, and we often assume that everything works the same across other timelines, universes, or multiverses, but it doesn’t.
Still, I feel the weight of existence pressing against me, as though every choice I make is measured against some cosmic ledger. Even the smallest actions seem to ripple far beyond my understanding, shaping outcomes I cannot predict. It’s a strange mix of fear and responsibility — fear for the scale of what could happen, responsibility for what I might influence without even realizing it. And yet, in that tension, there is clarity: I must act, observe, and remember, because even if I am only one among billions, my presence echoes across a vast network of cause and effect. Perhaps that is the true uniqueness of our generation. We are witnesses to a world balanced on the edge of collapse, yet we are not passive. We inherit knowledge, technology, and awareness that can alter the trajectory of humanity — for better or worse. And in that inheritance lies a responsibility that is impossible to ignore. Every decision, every thought, every dream carries weight beyond our immediate comprehension, shaping not just our lives but the lives of countless others. It is terrifying, humbling, and strangely exhilarating all at once.
The Future
In a world governed by science, any possibility that does not violate the fundamental laws of physics is, in principle, a potential reality. Imagine a civilization so advanced that it operates simultaneously across multiple universes, multiple multiverses, and multiple branching timelines. A species with technology capable of navigating the structure of the cosmological manifold itself — slipping between branes, tunneling through higher‑dimensional bulk space, and communicating with their own variants across countless realities. They would be powerful enough to assemble entire armadas by synchronizing fleets from divergent timelines, coordinating militaries that never existed together in a single universe yet converge through higher‑dimensional routes. But war, as we understand it, is not universal. Conflict is a product of evolutionary pressure, resource scarcity, and biological competition — conditions that may not exist for civilizations whose variants share knowledge across infinite realities. Paradoxically, such beings may lack any innate instinct for violence, yet still remain linked to versions of themselves that inhabit more hostile universes.
Now imagine them observing humanity — a young species confined to one timeline, one universe, cut off from our own variants by the limitations of physics and technology. What would be the first line they write in our historical file? I believe it would be something like this: “A civilization with no access to any parallel versions of itself — isolated, fragmented, unaware of the greater network of realities.” They would categorize us as a Type‑0 species on the Kardashev scale, timeline X, universe X, multiverse X — a species whose most likely future is self‑extinction. A species so primitive that it considers itself the apex of existence, unable to realize that its greatest threat has always come from within. A timeline trapped in a feedback loop of self‑destruction, doomed by inertia and ignorance. But imagine, for a moment, that these higher beings notice something anomalous — a deviation in probability they cannot calculate, a pattern that should not appear in an isolated universe. Humanity begins to exhibit statistical irregularities: decisions that violate predictive models, civilizations collapsing too early or surviving too long, individuals behaving as though influenced by information they should not possess. To them, it would appear as if our universe is broadcasting noise into the multiversal network.
They would investigate. And they would find something impossible. A spontaneous bridge forming between our timeline and theirs — not created by them, but emerging naturally. A tear in the cosmological fabric, a quantum‑informational leak originating from humanity itself. Our nightmares, our intuitions, our catastrophes, our sudden bursts of genius — all aligning into a coherent signal. A signal that should not exist in a species without higher‑dimensional awareness. Upon closer analysis, they would discover the truth: Humanity is not doomed because it is primitive. Humanity is dangerous because it is evolving in the wrong direction — upward. A species that was never meant to make contact with the multiversal network is somehow becoming aware of it. Not through technology, but through consciousness. And then the final note in our file would change from observation to warning: “Timeline X has become self‑aware. Their dreams breach dimensions. Their extinction is no longer guaranteed — it is optional. And if they survive, every universe will feel it.” At that exact moment, the watchers would understand the true threat: not our weapons, not our wars, not our intelligence — but the fact that we are beginning to see them back. And that is how an insignificant, isolated species in a forgotten timeline becomes the variable that destabilizes an entire multiverse — the species that wasn’t supposed to wake up.
Which Path Should I Take?
Now you understand what kind of thoughts are occupying my mind. And there is a question: what should I do if I have these fears and this anxiety? The best way, if you have anxiety or fear of something that might happen in the future, is to start preparing for it. I always have the burden of responsibility of a man, and you have it too without any doubt. Of course, on the road of preparedness, you will stumble a lot, but that’s good. You won’t always be able to react to everything with a calm face, since some experiences trigger the noise inside you. So it’s better to adapt and learn in the end. During the day, I call the Lord too many times, and often without reason. That’s a sign that we are so weak, we cannot even give a simple explanation of why we summoned someone or something.
Out there among the galaxies, there are types of civilizations that live so much in peace that they do not even predict their own extinction. I believe the current reality we live in is something they read only in books or anything similar that bears and shares information. I think the greatest gift humanity has given itself is the ability to self-destruct. Among other species across galaxies, we can surely consider ourselves educated savages. The fears I have are not something I face alone. A human should be capable of many things, and among them, the ability to think on a global scale is important. The nightmares I see are the reflection of a future that is inevitable. I am sharing this with you just in case this comes true one day. Asking for God’s protection is a waste of time, since He has already decided who will live and who will die. The only difference between the two is the difference in time—who dies first. The number one thing you should remember is that you don’t need to fear something unfamiliar; fear often comes from the places and people we know best. If you see someone similar to your character, mind, emotions, etc., be aware of them first, since they can be just as bad as you are—if not worse—when the conditions are right.
The Land of Ajam
‘’I was listening to the words of a mother from Dangara as she looked at her little son with tears on her face. She couldn’t even grasp the idea that one day this small boy would grow into a powerful man who would provide for the family. The boy who sold fruits in the dusty streets became one of the strongest men of his era. That was the dream she held onto, the future she longed for. Her husband was gone—death had taken him—and the only hope she had left was still growing, still becoming. And the look on her face? It was a look nothing in this world could replace. A look that settles deep inside you, the kind that forces you to act before anything bad can happen to your own family.’’ — Eraj Alisherov, The Patriot
The End
“As Seneca once wrote, ‘We suffer more in imagination than in reality.’ The mind often builds storms that never arrive, yet the preparation for those storms shapes the strength within us.”
Eraj Alisherov, The Patriot
And so, as the world continues shifting under our feet, we walk forward carrying both caution and curiosity. We are not made of steel, but of awareness — a quality that sometimes feels like a curse, yet is ultimately a form of intelligence. To live on alert is not to live in fear; it is to acknowledge that being human means navigating uncertainty with open eyes, steady breath, and the quiet resolve to keep moving.
Modern research shows that up to 62% of adults experience intrusive worry during periods of global instability, according to the American Psychological Association, while chronic hypervigilance affects roughly 15–20% of the population depending on region and stress exposure (based on data from the National Institute of Mental Health). These numbers remind us that living on alert is not unusual — it is part of the psychological landscape of our era. And understanding this truth does not weaken us; it simply allows us to close the final page with clarity, aware of both our fragility and our capacity to rise above it.
INTRUSIVE WORRIES
CHRONIC HYPERVIGILANCE
