The streets of Jerusalem provide the raw material for Jesus Syndrome. A man wrapped in a hotel bedsheet declares himself Jesus, healing everyone around him. A woman becomes the permanent Virgin Mary, sobbing at the altar of Golgotha for a son two thousand years gone. The Israeli police handle multiple Jesuses, Mother Marys, and John the Baptists who are nothing more or less than hyper-tourists with their own agenda. Ambulances carry them away.

It doesn't need to be only in Jerusalem where sacred energies are deeply awakened. The psychiatric units around the world know this routine of Jesus Syndrome. They have clinical names for it—Jesus Syndrome, Jerusalem Syndrome, messiah complex, transient psychosis. Sometimes they find schizophrenia underneath if doctors really don't know the root of the problem despite wasting many years studying at medical schools. The label makes no difference. It all comes from the same place: a catastrophic inflation of the ego.

This is what happens when a person tries to become a giant idea—a useful idiot for their own fantasy. A small, fragile ego latches onto a powerful role and puffs up, looking important but hollow inside. It becomes so overblown that it can no longer be nothing. Being nothing is being everything. Go to see a poor Romani village to realize it.

Our world feeds this hunger for Jesuses and Messiahs. Instant saviors. The pressure to be big, successful and perfect manufactures these false selves. The act takes over the real person. For instance, look at almost every single American on TikTok or any other social media platform.

Attention whores and a bunch of their useful idiots. The rest of the world just copy-pastes their Jesuses and Messiahs. Shaky inside, robust outside. It might work for a while, and then the persona collapses in tears on live stream, blaming social media for their own big little dramas coming from the epicenter of egoland. Why not.

Millions of people selling something they think is a blessing and healing for the world. They tell you how to live, what to eat, who to love. Influencers is just a term for manipulators. But whoever manipulates others mostly manipulates themselves. Every system works perfectly, because most people believe in society's hierarchy, and the inflated ego always places itself at the top of the system.

And for the sake of harmony, some place themselves at the bottom. The Jesuses look down at you like a lost thing needing direction. Manipulating the mind is easy, but to manipulate the soul you must abandon yourself first.

Nowadays, Jesuses call themselves life coaches, gurus, experts and leaders. All titles mean nothing. The impulse matches the man in the bedsheet. The same unshakable belief in their superior understanding. The same self-appointed mission to guide the lost.

Every person has an internal compass. The only useful thing you can tell a lost person is to find it. Then let them go wherever they choose. But the guides cannot do this. They are the most disoriented of all. So disconnected from their own navigation, they spend their lives drawing maps for others.

They are the eternal Jesuses and messiahs, trying to disciple everyone in their confusion of life. Pope or whore is still the same to me, but they speak with the certainty of those who have never doubted their own path. Always the right. Never the wrong.

Like they hold moral compasses and trademarks for all life advice. Their advice never stops—how to breathe, how to love, how to exist. This world is full of people with Jesus syndrome. This Jesus Syndrome spreads like a digital plague. But none of them wants to be crucified. So they crucify others. This is the modern Jesus Syndrome.

There is an old Romani proverb: "Jekh dilo kerel but dile, hai but dile keren dilimata." One madman makes many madmen, and many madmen make madness.