 Hey everyone, today I want to dive way too deep into the psychology behind why millions of people enjoy liminal spaces and the back rooms. Now I'm not a psychologist, not a scientist, I'm a YouTuber, but I do make videos about liminal spaces and the back rooms, and I think it's really important to discuss why we are fascinated with the things that we are. So buckle up, sit back and relax, and get ready for an extreme over-analysis and over-in-depth look of how liminal spaces in the back rooms connect to our psyche and why Gen Z is obsessed with dissociating inside of these places. The back rooms blew up in 2020 and in 2021 too, which were very turbulent years for everyone watching this. The crazy sickness that was going around that I can't say, everything was shut down, schools were cancelled, and life was liminal. We were existing in our very own liminality and few people ever really realized that. See liminal spaces are the transitional spaces in life or in your mind that feel off, but they also feel familiar, but they also feel foreign, and much like the liminal space pictures that we all know and love, life itself mirrored that for those two years. See, life as we knew it before 2020 will never be the exact same again, and I'm not saying it in the cringe, me, everything's different, everything sucks, I'm just saying that things have changed and the way we live our life has changed, and it all happened during those liminal years of 2020 and 2021. The years where stores went bankrupt, everything closed down, and everywhere you went was completely and utterly empty. We were living in a liminal hellscape, our very own, in every sense of the word, and no one noticed. It doesn't surprise me that the back rooms exploded in popularity during all that time because there were millions of people that couldn't seem to find meaning in life. They can't really find out what their purpose is, you know, nihilism is running rampant, there's no hope for the future, there's no looking forward to anything, there's no wanting to go on, and because of this, people turn to alternate realities like the one that we talk about on the channel, the back rooms, and liminal spaces, and things like that. They crave the endless sprawling capability of never being seen again, they love it, they want to leave, they want to disappear, they want to not exist. But here we are, existing. Is the answer to just, you know, sit back and disassociate, or is the answer to face life head on? I don't know, I'm asking you. You see the yellow infinity, the buzzing lights, the loneliness? All it did was reflect the mental and the physical state of us and of life during 2020. I know I might sound clinically insane, but hear me out for a few minutes. The bright, yellow, and empty halls of back rooms level zero perfectly represents how we all felt in those years. Yeah, you're kind of safe inside of the back rooms and in real life, I guess, but you still feel uneasy, you still can't relax. The buzzing from the lights could represent the white noise that was the media that was constantly bombarding us about the sickness, new fights and riots and politics and everything was very, very overwhelming. Just like the dull buzzing of the lights in the back rooms is. So here we are trapped in the real world where everything seems to be ending around us and the world as we knew it was dying. So we hyper fixated on something that represented the life we were living and we had no idea we were doing it. The infinite winding hallways of the back rooms parallels the infinite unknown that we were all experiencing. We had no idea what was around the next corner in our life because we had no idea what was going to happen. Just like how in the back rooms, you have no idea what's going to happen when you walk around that corner. The soggy wet carpet makes it just slightly more uncomfortable than normal. Just like the lockdowns and restrictions and everything like that made life just a little bit more uncomfortable. We all wanted an escape from that, you know, to disappear and what a better way to do that than through the idea of the back rooms. The only problem with that is that we had no idea at the time that this interest was a mere reflection of the lives we were existing in at that moment. In some weird way, the back rooms was normal and our real life was the hellscape that we think the back rooms is. But it doesn't just stop with the famous level zero. It's just the more obvious parallel with real life. Now I can get even deeper with this, trust me. Take the pool rooms, for example. Man, I love this place. You know, it's quaint. It's never-ending. It's comforting. It's bliss with nothing but white tiles and lukewarm water for eternity. Isn't this the ideal escape from everything that's wrong in life? Isn't this the perfect place to relax and never leave? The ideal location to run away from all your troubles? And wouldn't it be convenient if you just had the ability to go here and leave the hell of real life? But then there's even more like level run for your life. You know, the famous red hallways and the blaring siren where you sprint away from this entity horde that's chasing you. Now, isn't this perfectly mere life during 2020 and 2021? You see, hear me out. The hallway is you and your mind. The red lights and the blaring sirens are your mental state and everything else inside. It reflects your strange brain from the over-information and over-sadness and over-stimulation from the constant turmoil that we all experienced. The monster horde chasing behind you is all the stuff that was shoved forcefully down our throats and inner ears during those years. The virus, the media, the panic, the unrest, the civil wars, everything that went wrong are the monsters. And the obstacles in your way on this level, like the beds and the chairs, are what you had to run around in real life while dealing with everything else. So school and online school and relationships and debt and love and hate and everything, those are the obstacles. All of this is the way that your life was during virus. And it goes to show that no matter the obstacles you were facing in this metaphor, you know, the sickness, the media, the panic, your job, your love life, everything else, it doesn't stop pursuing you, so you just have to keep running through the red hallways of your mind in hopes of one day finding rest. You know, those are obviously large reaches and I'm kind of grasping at straws here, but what about some less crazy connections to liminality and the backrooms in general? Take an abandoned theater or an empty school or a childhood house or something like that. Imagery like this always plays a massive role in limb spaces and in the backrooms and it's a point of love for many fans. But why? Why do we love all of these places, these liminal spaces, these nostalgic areas? Is it because life was easy then? Is it because nothing was hard to us? Is it because we look back and forget all the struggles that we had? Nothing in the real world mattered when life looked like this. Is that why we like it so much? Is that why we're so intrigued in it? But to be honest, that's kind of just like an edgelord Batman Joker type thing to say because in reality, we still had struggles when we were young. We just overshadowed them with the good memories that we recall. Life was hard back then too. Our struggles just were simpler. You know, instead of worrying about getting bombed or dying from a sickness spreading to people that we loved, we just worried back then about getting made fun of for our shoes or getting hit in the face with a dodge ball or getting spaghetti at lunch with no breadstick. These pictures draw us back to those simple times and that is so special. Even though we weren't without our trials and tribulations then, they were simpler. They didn't mean as much. They didn't have as much gravity to them. It wasn't life or death. You see, we were born in a liminal generation, a liminal space, a middle time. And like Fight Club says, we are the middle children of history. You know, not in the cringe way, just we actually are. You know, I was born in 2002 and I didn't grow up with an iPad or technology or console, you know, not until late middle school. We are the last generation, the buffer zone, the foothold between the old and the new. And I think we truly hold the last memories of simple times. Times when life moves slower and when this transition to technology takeover wasn't widespread and wasn't moving at a million miles per hour. We were born in a liminal space, the time between the old and the new. Then we lived through the liminal spaces in our childhood and stuff. We grew up with the high school. Then we lived through the liminal space of the lockdown, a transition between life as we knew it then and life as it is now. And at this point in time, we visualize and or relive all of these liminal space moments through other liminal space pictures and through the backroom's lore. It's the ultimate reminder and the ultimate thing that we cling to, to remember our past. But why? Why do we subconsciously want to remind ourselves of our childhood? Or of the simpler times that we had? Are we afraid that the memories are slipping away and that one day we won't recall any of them? Or does it terrify us that life will never be like that again? You know, everyone has experienced being a kid, but what we experienced, the late 90s, the early 2000s, is the most recent and most documented and most photographed, the most videoed generation ever. We can look directly back at our childhood right through these photos and relive them any time we want to. And we choose to do so through liminal space pictures and the backrooms because it reminds us so much of how it used to be. The backroom's horror of being alone and wandering the labyrinth and walls is just a simple visualization of how many people feel right now. You know, they themselves feel like they're alone in a foreign place and a cycle of walls and horror that will never end. They feel trapped, they feel chased, they feel alone, and that is exactly why the backroom scares and intrigues everybody that's interested in it. Again, we are a liminal generation, the last to know a childhood pre-tech and the first to have it at a young age. And we wonder why we hyper-fixate on things like, you know, the backrooms, the SCP Foundation, liminal spaces. We want the simplicity, the helplessness. We want to be naive. We crave the old days, we crave the old time. And we can somehow do that just a little bit when we explore the liminal hellscape of the complex. You know, we were born in a completely different world than the one that we live in currently. And even people born in the later 2000s can, you know, agree with that. Everything is different now. Everything is uneasy and restless. And it feels like everything is caving in all around us constantly. And if you add that to the fact that we can relive our childhood, you know, as best as we can now, through the pictures and photographs of liminal spaces, you get an extremely nostalgic generation clinging back to how life used to be. As I said, it wasn't easier back then. It was just simpler. And sometimes simpler is just better. We are a generation thrust into a life and a world that is most likely on the steep decline. And it's always fascinating to me how many people just want to escape and want to look at other places and want to live in a different area. So it should come as no surprise why things that offer that different area, that different place, blow up in popularity. You see, we can disassociate, we can enthrall ourselves in this lore and kind of live vicariously through it because it's simple, because it's there, because technically nothing bad could happen, just like in our childhood. Yeah, there were bad things that might happen, but to us, it was impossible. To us, we were infinite. And growing up is realizing that we're not. But to wrap all these ramblings up here, I just want to tie a nice little bow and say that liminal space pictures and the back rooms and everything surrounding it is a perfect representation of our lives, of our mental state, and of the experiences that we've all had, you know, this early Gen Z, you know, late 90s, early 2000, raising up. We all have this shared experience. We all have this similar childhood. And we all can relive that through these images and through these experiences of the back rooms and everything. And I do believe that is why we are so hyper fixated on it. That is why there are millions and hundreds of millions of people that have seen these videos and really related to them, even if they don't know why. We were born between worlds. We live in a world between worlds. And we have absolutely no idea what tomorrow will bring, which is exactly what happens in the back rooms. And liminal spaces can draw us back to those times that none of this was a problem. Even though it was there, we just were blissfully unaware. We had no idea how bad everything was and how bad everything was going to be. And as I said earlier, we want to be naive. We crave it. But now that we're not, everything seems overwhelming. Everything seems hard. And that's why we choose to escape. That's why we choose to leave. And that is why we are obsessed with the horror of liminality or it could just be because you're interested in it. I don't know. I might be insane. Leave a like if I'm not, though. Thanks so much for watching. Hope you enjoyed. This is definitely a different type of video, but a lot of you did vote for it. There was 10,000 votes for doing this video. If you did enjoy it, leave a like. If it resonated with you, share it with a friend. Subscribe for more videos, maybe like this. I kind of want to do some more commentary stuff like this. If you want more, check out Tugli and Spookli, my second and third channel. Follow me on Twitter, join the Discord. I love and appreciate you all. Thank you so much. Remember that everything gets better. I love and appreciate you and I'll see you later.