Existential Crisis - Blog Posts
I'm a small human, I don't know why I need to make these big decisions.
When the existential crisis hits you hard for the 4th time this week✌️
TW: PINK BLOOD, CUTS AND BRUISES, IMPLIED ABUSE, NUDITY, EXISTENTIAL THOUGHTS
“Why do I even exist?”
Things I shoulda known
I really should’ve known I was non-binary because I didn’t understand the binary at all, like I do, but it just was like a sock that never fit. When I did discover the term it made me a bit sad, but I had this huge wave of relief and was happy that I could finally be myself. All gender bathrooms are the best, no questions asked. Now onto my sexuality...I really shoulda known I was ace..I mean dude, I literally couldn’t say the word “sex” for years. I have a list of alternatives...quite literally. It’s funny cause one of my friends knew before I did. Now onto my romanticism...I never understood romance..but I was fully convinced that I was a pan/panro...I was really wrong. I hadn’t had well, any crushes (faked ‘em to a T). I found out I was demiplatonic and realized I have squishes on occasion (literally my besties...I love them so SO much...I wanna hang and talk philosophy with both of ‘em), and that I might not be as introverted as I thought. Imma get real existential real quick, but I really am grateful that in the little time that I’ve had on this planet, that I will never experience falling in love or sexual attraction because I’ll have a whole ‘nother experience than somebody else. I’ll change in different ways. My experience may not be common, but I’m grateful that I get to have it.
People want to make 2024 like 2014. But I was a little kid in 2014 wanting to be a grownup so bad, now I am an almost adult wanting to go back to my childhood
God, I just want to go back in time 😔
the moment when you buy a book and you start reading it and it's so good you buy the next one right away but you accidently read the text on the back of the book and spoiler the whole plot of the first book and then you're just sitting there like
what am I doing with my life now? what is the purpose of living? why is life
And then you sit there and stare at some random object doing nothing, thinking about nothing until someone comes in and reminds you that Life still exists
I failed a CAPTCHA several times while trying to create a new Steam account. I now have to question my existence.
《¤》●This is it, whatever it is that's hard for you to let go, your missed opportunities, people you had to let go of when you were in love, toxicities, your failures, things that killed you, it all starts and ends here. Nothing matters as our cycle of humanity is locked inside terrestrially and there are things far beyond the galaxies, lightyears and our sight. Clusters of stars miles and miles away from this Earth, where you die with your heartaches.
● What you gained or missed, nothing matters. You end here where you started from, but there are things far beyond this place, too massive for us that we're merely existent, too dark to be explained, bodies of questions where nothing about us matters.
● For a moth born in a jar, the roof of the jar is everything it knows and fears to cross, and an illusion of truth. 《¤》●
Me: *wakes up before my alarm* You know this feels very nice, actually...
*alarm rings reminding me of the shit I need to get done*
Me: *filled with sudden anger* CHAOS I CALL TO YOU
I'm wishing for either life or death because I am tired of being stuck somewhere in between.
Simply existing.
Lacrimosa
A short story about a dystopian and post-apocalyptic future, a red sea and devastated sky, saturated in solitude, a protagonist wondering why all this.
The reason for that creature that she baptized as "the final angel" was there, the reflection of human errors made flesh and bone.
tw: philosophical crises, post-apocalyptic world, the main character questions existence, religion.
Year [Unreadable... The number is corrupted...] Date [Corrupted] Time [Corrupted] Location [Imprecise]
The sky is red, and the water looks like pure wine.
There were no signs of life; it's been a long time since I last saw a dog, a fish, a bird, or even an insect. Everything seemed to have vanished.
The only things left were cities flooded with red water, destroyed and submerged cities, scarce patches of dry land that could be found.
And if there was still a part of the land that the water hadn't destroyed yet, those things would do it – those tornadoes coming straight from the sky that seemed to have a life of their own, knowing exactly when to appear. They would destroy whatever was left there, and the land that couldn't be submerged was dry, as dry as a desert.
Sheets of metal abandoned in those deserts, the catastrophe of Black Sunday, it could have been avoided, but they chose this, they chose to condemn us all. Those who were supposed to protect us used us as lab rats.
Only solitude and pain were left behind.
The strong wind from the whirlwinds, gently tugging at the tail of my scarf, the pull of my hair being drawn by the wind. I watch as once again, those whirlwinds sweep through.
All I could do was watch, what else can I do besides crying?
There was nothing else to do, all hope was gone. Was there even hope to begin with? Was there ever hope from the start?
God, are you there? Do we even matter to you? I can guess not, you don't even exist, you're not real.
Just an invention of humanity to give an origin to our existence.
And if you ever were real, God, then you hated us
Hatred, I feel hatred for that nonexistent being, hatred for those who condemned us, hatred for this civilization that sealed its own end. Words will never be enough to express all the hatred I feel right now, there are no words to explain the hatred I feel every attosecond.
When the whirlwind finally disappears, I can see the hole in the clouds, the red sky rumbling, strange cables slowly emerge from the cloud hole, slowly approaching the earth; or perhaps from my point of view, they move slowly. They slowly pierce through the dry earth, I don't know if they simply "connected" or if they are drilling into the interior of the earth. Perhaps it's responsible for the deserts?
A white light illuminates from above down to the cables until the light finally fades upon reaching the earth.
Perhaps hours passed or maybe minutes, I couldn't say, I haven't seen the sun for a long time, its brightness and warmth overshadowed by the reddish sky.
By the time the light disappeared, the cables slowly moved away and returned to the sky, the clouds closed, and the tornadoes disappeared.
Descending from the large stone tube, the sound of my worn-out boots against the dry ground, with each step, the sound of the earth crawling could be heard.
Now I knew what those cables were doing, they were drills, drilling into the earth for reasons unknown to me, but at this point, it was the last thing or perhaps absolutely nothing that mattered to me.
I still remember, I remember the day, Black Sunday.
I was at school when it happened, suddenly the sky lit up in pure white blinding us and then the sky turned red, the ground shook, and a strong dust cloud that wiped out houses was approaching us, and large pillars of light rose behind, we didn't have time to react when it hit, the screams, their bodies imploded and so did mine, cascades of blood and the remains of clothing and bone left behind.
When I opened my eyes again, I only saw a large sphere with different colors, I was part of that, and we were being sucked into a black hole that seemed to come out of something white.
I don't remember what happened in there or what happened outside for us to escape, sometimes, I see those lights again. It took me a while to realize that those spherical lights were the remains of what was once the physical form of a human being, that's how I used to be before, my body had been destroyed, and what was left became part of the red, and the rest was taken by that thing.
Those black holes belonged to that, they weren't black holes; they were more like mouths, we were being devoured. It spat us out after a certain event outside, our remains returned to our reddish waste, and we regained physical form.
I prefer to call that thing "The Final Angel", the Angel so immense, larger than the earth, maybe even two or three times larger, soaring through space with the sound of flapping in the muffled noise of space.
I look towards the horizon, the red sky turns white, and the reddish is engulfed in cobwebs that snake, changing shapes, the horrible white iris, black lines snaking through its eyes, the pallor of its skin, and its horrible smile. It smiles, smiles as it left us, it was a smile of victory and fun; she smiles at seeing our destruction. But there's something more in its eyes, there was pain, it wasn't an "Angel", not a "Demon" or a "God", it's a human.
With a final look at the gracious being, its gaze melts away, leaving the horrifying gaze, bony face, and sunken eyes that flicker with darkness.
The pillars of light that had lost their shine regained it forcefully as they ascended slowly into the sky. The dust rose in large clouds of dirt where the pillars once stood, the fresh air hit my face, my scarf dancing to the slow rhythm, and I could feel my hair gently swaying.
I half close my eyes; I can't see myself, but I know in this moment, my face must have a grimace; everything was going to happen again, right?
Terror.
Blur on a black screen not blank
As if electricity still itches
Under its glass skin
A glossy glimpse of my eyes
I long for a longer time
As I look into my own eyes
I see the wires
Vessels of blood and butchery
Bathing in that black
They anticipate a world beyond my own
When I let go of my life
We live between
bad choices
and worse ones,
and we choose the bad,
hoping that at least
we shall survive.
Mere survival is what
alot of us sometimes
sleeplessly
struggle for.
I just want to like... exist