Everybody wants to be a vibe. But at any given time, only some people are a vibe. For example, you may be giving great vibes Saturday night, but have no vibes Sunday morning. Meanwhile, another person can't give a vibe past 9PM, but come Monday they're a major vibe.
What is the reason for this? Some speculate that it has to do with physical appearance, or personality, or socioeconomic status, or living in a vibe-rich environment like New York City or Bali. But the answer is more nature than nurture. It goes like this: we're all born with a certain amount of vibes to give. Some people are born with many, others are born with less, and some tragic souls are born with absolutely no vibes at all (we all know someone like this). Crucially, none of us know exactly how many vibes we're born with.
As we journey through life, we each become aware of our vibes (usually around adolescence) and how to give them. Once we're aware of how to give our vibes, most of us spend all of our time trying to give as many vibes as possible—blissfully unaware that we only have a finite amount. This is more or less what it means to be young.
Maturity happens when we realize that one day we will run out of vibes. As such—and assuming we haven't already used up all our vibes—we become more judicious about how and when we give vibes. You may choose to save your vibes for the Saltburn Party in East Williamsburg so you can attract a toxic partner, and I may opt to utilize my vibes in the office so I can climb the corporate ladder and maintain my position as the COCK in my financially inequitable romantic relationship. In other words, it's mostly a matter of preference.
Except it's also a matter of how many vibes you're born with. This is one of the harshest truths in life. Some people are blessed with so many vibes that they can afford to be a vibe all day every day and never run out. Historical examples include Leonardo da Vinci, Burt Reynolds, and Marie Antoinette (who died young, so we'll never know how many vibes she truly had). Meanwhile, others spend the majority of their lives giving vibes, only to have them run out when they need them most (e.g., Napoleon, Gwyneth Paltrow, Elon Musk, and anyone who’s made the Forbes 30 Under 30 list. Disgraced congressman George Santos has managed to be an unlikely vibe to date, but many speculate he is running dangerously low on vibes).
These vibe-less souls are a humbling reminder to us all that one day we will give our last vibe. And once we do, it'll be impossible for us to give another vibe. Of course, we will still try. After all, we've been giving vibes our whole life—it's not something we can stop overnight (J.K. Rowling, Will Smith, and Aaron Rodgers are examples of people who kept trying to give vibes long after their vibes ran out). But with each failed vibe-giving, the reality will creep in that we've given our last vibe and must journey through the rest of life with a barren vibe reservoir ("vibesvoir") ((the average American runs out of vibes somewhere in their late 30s to early 40s, while Europeans have been known to give vibes well into their 60s)).
This isn't to say we become completely vibe-less. After all, we've built up a ton of vibes over the years. These vibes form a pastiche that is the fabric of our very being (what one might call a "soul"). However, if we continue to try and give vibes once we've run out, we ironically lose the vibes we've given (including the vibes given to us by others—a whole different subject we don't have time to cover here). This vibe recession ("vibecession") is the leading cause of vibelessness in the world. You can tell if someone has lost all their vibes if they begin engaging in behavior that is decidedly not a vibe, such as buying lots of Kith, Stussy, and Supreme (unless they skateboard, but learning how to skateboard as an adult is also not a vibe), moving to New Jersey (except Montclair or select areas of Jersey City), or getting into Republican politics.
As you can see, no longer being able to give vibes can destroy some people from the inside out. But if you're resilient, there's good news: it's possible to become a vibe again. This isn't to say you can earn new vibes to give. But if you can maintain the vibes you've given throughout life, and navigate an empty vibesvoir with confidence and grace, it's possible to achieve vibe nirvana (“vibevana”). This Professor Emeritus of Vibes exudes vibes without needing to do anything. That is to say, their vibes are completely effortless. If you've ever seen a swagged-out old person reading a New Yorker in Central Park, or if someone has ever told you that you get happier as you get older, this person has likely achieved vibevana.
Examples of people who have elevated to a higher plain of vibe consciousness include Betty White, who left her $75 million estate to a trust benefitting animal charities (caring for animals is a benevolent vibe), and Barack Obama, who gave his last vibe early in the second term of his presidency and has been subsisting on transcendent vibes ever since.
This unified theory of vibes takes years to understand and a lifetime to master. In the meantime, the best any of us can do is try and use our vibes in the best way possible, and pray that a vibe shift doesn't disrupt us (in a vibe shift, everyone's vibesvoir is reallocated. People who may have had no vibes suddenly have abundant vibes, while those who had many vibes suddenly can't find a vibe if their life depended on it. Vibe shifts are ugly, and have claimed many a great vibe).
If after reading this, you intuit what I'm describing on a spiritual, sexual, or molecular level, there's a good chance you're a vibe. If you interpret everything I just said as complete and utter nonsense, you are decidedly not a vibe. If you don't know what to think, wait until you're vibing, and come back and read me again.