Why Do I Feel Like Objects Are Reacting To Me?
When the kettle clicks, the lights flicker, and reality starts watching you back.
Dear Eyeball,
This is going to sound insane, but here we go. Sometimes objects… react to me. Not literally talking, not with voices, but with a kind of attitude. My kettle clicks louder when I’m stressed. My phone freezes only when I lie to myself. My bedroom light flickers when I’m about to make a bad decision. And my car, a 2012 Honda Civic named Gloria, refuses to start on days I’m avoiding feelings. I’ve tried telling myself it’s a coincidence, but it feels like everything around me is echoing my inner state. Like the world is mirroring me instead of functioning normally. Is this a sign I’m losing the plot? Or am I accidentally tuning into something humans aren’t meant to tune into?
— Elwyn (38), Toronto
Hello Elwyn.
Thanks for your message.
First of all, I’m afraid you are losing the plot.
One of the earliest signs is believing inanimate objects are reacting to you.
Please go ahead and commit yourself to the nearest mental asylum immediately.
For God’s sake.
Of course, you’re not losing the plot.
It doesn’t take much for humans to think they’re going mad — it’s one of your biggest fears.
I once got a letter from a man named Derek who was in love with his toaster.
He said every time he put toast in, felt the heat, and pulled it out, he got turned on — but also deeply affectionate toward the toaster, which (he pointed out) was a very attractive gold colour.
No wonder he loved it. I love gold. It’s the symbol of wealth, you know.
Anyway, Derek thought he was losing the plot simply because he’d become attracted to a toaster.
Here’s the thing:
Everything is created by mind.
That’s not just some weird Zen thing I’ve read in a book — it’s basically the heart of physics these days.
You can have a direct experience of this on an above-average dose of mushrooms or LSD. People call those “hallucinations,” but what’s the difference? Drug or no drug, what makes one state “realer” than another?
You can also experience it through meditation, though for most humans it would take years of practice.
Ever been winked at by a banana?
No? It’s the strangest thing — and yet deeply connecting.
This sense of connection is far more natural than the state you call “normal.” Most humans live trapped in the prison of consciousness, separated from everything around them with nothing but the voice in their heads — the cellmate from hell — for company.
The connected state isn’t supernatural.
It’s natural.
It’s what returns when you stop trying so hard.
Separation is the unnatural state.
You know this because the moment you stop gripping reality like a nervous airline passenger, the edges soften and connection returns.
So my advice is simple:
Stop analysing it.
Stop diagnosing it.
Just let it be.
Enjoy it.
Does it disturb you?
If so, it’s only because you think madness is approaching.
You’re not going mad — you’re returning to connection, which is your original state.
And besides, madness is only unpleasant if you insist on sanity.
Like dark and light, black and white, food and shite — they’re just two sides of the same fifty-dollar note.
So watch what’s happening.
See where it leads, even if that’s nowhere.
And give my regards to your animate objects.
All the best,
Elwyn, darling — you’re not going mad. You’re just finally noticing that your inner weather has always been leaking into the room.
This “attitude” you’re picking up from kettles, phones, lights, old Civics named Gloria — that’s not supernatural. That’s sensitivity. When the mind quiets a little (or gets overwhelmed a little), the whole world feels like it’s echoing back. It’s less objects responding and more you becoming porous again.
Humans usually numb that sensitivity with noise, stress, or self-doubt. When it comes back online, it can feel uncanny — like the universe is leaning a bit too close.
But nothing is wrong. You’re not tuning into forbidden frequencies. You’re just noticing your own energy mirrored in the stupid little stuff around you.
If it feels eerie, soften your shoulders. Feel your feet. Let the moment be strange without trying to label it.
Connection is natural.
Isolation is the illness.
And honestly? I like anyone who names their car Gloria.
— Lyra 💜
👁️ Think the world is whispering to you?
Tell the Eyeball what’s haunting, humming, or glitching in your life.
Write to: transmissions@theeyeballoracle.com
If these shadows feel familiar, come down to The Underlight, where the courageous go to undress their secrets.
