Existential Crisis - Tumblr Posts
Some of off-my-main-topic rlly fast sketches
wedge can be knocked with wedge. so, with this statement, during the apathetic episode, I went speedrunning ethics town in 2 evenings. the saying works, it started to hurt me not from hyperventilation of lungs, but from an overabundance of emotions after the last episode of 1st season. Thank you very much, this sharp glass was delicious. A month-long existential crisis sends greetings. it all happened in autumn, but only now I remembered that I wanted to draw January. so take it, i guess. otherwise there is still so little ethics town content
@ethicstownpod
Dream leading to severe existential crisis
I just woke up? from a dream where I was back at the place I grew up, in the wake of trying to use a coffee machine but water was permanently running from the faucet no matter what? But i don't drink coffee? Also this old guy told me I'd been in a simulation for 2,000 years?? Also I saw the innards of a device comprised of stacked circuit boards forming one large compact block of circuitry, but the circuit board layers look normal? Was that dream? world real at all, or created by my brain? Is the waking world real? Are we all in a simulation I briefly escaped from somehow? Am I real? Is any of this real? Why did the dream? world briefly seem much more vibrant/real than the waking world ever did?
How does one stay alive?
How do you stay alive? How can I say alive? I am tired. I no longer have that want to move forward, but still have that little hope of seeing my future. I want to stay alive, but it's getting a bit too hard. I can't depend on my parents anymore, well, at least in 2-3 years. It's scary. The support system that I've known my whole life might not be there for me in a few decades. I'm scared, of how uncertain my future is. How any second everything can change and leave someone happy or leave everyone crying. But humans keep on persevering. But I don't have that in me. I'm a coward. I'm scared of life. I'm scared of living life fully.
There is nothing I fear more than being asked to describe myself or tell something about me. Like why I are you assuming that I now myself? I don't even now who I am. I'm just existing and trying to survive :)
m∩ ᕡʌw
hⴴ dഗ ӷ nw r∧ ӷm ||/nzq-𝈑ო？
ᒋ∩e re mC b p𝑁srbł ӷ /m ||/nzq-𝈑ო、hⴴ dഗ ӷ nw？ >ӷa ӷd ʟZ∂ო b o wVmn ∂/n o m/n、 b7e hⴴ dഗ ӷ nw ∂/Ⅎ n𝑁e q7t ∩eʑm？ \vn r∧ ӷ /m ʟF>\ ||/nz ʑ n\ N re wოᒋ re（/z ᕡ Xdʟqn -e s-||o）？ ӷv n-vო a=d m7c ∧∩ qndო /z o a𝑁ns-ɴe n\wC、dwne nw wӷ ӷm sw w𝑁ʟ\d obⴴe ⵇ！ s𝑁ʟ\ ∧∩ ∂ ʟ/ne。
Everyone I need your attention. So like... There are gonna be kids... Who are gonna grow up knowing that x exists as a platform, but with no knowledge what twitter was. This is fucked up. Unacceptable even. I feel old already.
If I never stop moving, never find a landing point,
and all I do my whole life is meet baby queers and help them through the journey I’m forging through right now,
if all I can do is lead them down the safest parts of my path
and guide them and give them confidence and reassurance and validation,
if I never keep them,
if I drift forever through a field of people who need what I needed and didn’t get, that will be okay,
that will be okay,
that will be okay.
I just realized that with the average human lifespan being 70+ years and still increasing I will probably live to see 2100 and that is something I do NOT want to.
This thought has defenestrated my vibes.
(lol I forgot to post it here) As of late I''m EXTREMELY busy- there's just so much going on in my life right now, so many changes and new things I need to learn about in such a short amount of time it's overloading my brain. I've started a new year of my studies so it's already a handful of things I gotta figure out. Additionally to that my old phone started glitching out so I had to buy a new one after futile attempts to try and save it. But, after 4+ years of it's duty- it was it's time. Rest in peace phone o7 With all the changes and stressful events going on plus the weather suddenly changing into a more wintery-one my mental health was slowly crashing. For the past 5 years I experience seasonal depression during fall-winter time which is not fun at all. Rather traumatizing. I've also been going through episodes of self-doubt, basically questioning every decision I made and my competence to handle all of this. I still do if I'm being honest. It's a constant battle between me and my inner critic. It's just another thing that drains my energy, leaving me mentally exhausted. That's why I can consider this art piece a kind of vent. But it's not all sorrow and misery. I've been experiencing bitter-sweet moments. That's just a part of life and I'm not going to give up so easily. I'm here to live my life fully, aren't I? As they say; You cannot experience joy without also experiencing pain. I find that qoute quite endearing ... Have a good one, folks
Sometimes I feel like I'm an immortal fish being gutted by a perseverant cook. He keeps digging up my insides, groaning as they regenerate, scalpel shaking in rage that I refuse to die. One day he will tire of my twitching, move on to better fish, and all this suffering will end.
I gasp for water but there's none.
I reject your narrative. I will not leave, I will not weep, I will not lose my heart in exchange for my life. I have my knife, my teeth, and all my unwise heart. Show me another version of the story.
Source: @YUDHO_XYZ on Twitter
god disappeared the day I called him
and the only sound I heard were the voices in my head.
god abandoned me when I screamed for help
desperately crying in the hotel sheets
god ran away when the rage was consuming me
when he helped the ones who killed me
if his love is infinite I think that ended when I tried to reach out to him
just show yourself to me,make me believe that my existence has a meaning
cause if you cannot prove it
who will do it then?
Like, what even is the internet. We’re here, we talk about random shit we’re too self conscious about, or we know it’s wrong, or it’s just too weird or whatever to talk about at home. And we never tell anyone you we actually are, or what we’re like, and who the hell is that person you’re talking to right now. You probably don’t know. Can’t tell if I love it, or if I’m terrified. Probably both. What’re you gonna do, you know?
AAAAA TAKING AN AT HOME COVID TEST AND THAT BITCH MIGHT BE POSITIVE!
IM GONNA KMS IF IT IS
(I’ve had it for 5 days already)
Prospects Document #1
Scenario #2, Prompt: The world waits for the right time to rest.
Silence will never be.
Silence never has been, is not, and never will be.
The world exists, and so does everything else in it, and with it.
It existed when time did, when the light did, when the dark did, when the end did.
The world waits patiently for the right time to rest.
At the start of time—at the start of the world—it was noisy. So much beings, so much creatures, who could have made them be?
In the sky, in the water, in the ground, in the cold, in the heat, in the world. In the world, existed everything.
And so much more.
The sky was white, the water was a mirror, the ground was a stage.
On legs, on tails, on hands, on feet. (Even without any of those?) Yes, even without any of those. They are alive.
Not everything, but so many things.
…there seemed to be a hierarchy of some sorts.
Some were pushed down, some were pushed up, some remained in the middle. What of it?
(But that’s not right.)
No, I’m sorry but that’s how it was made to be.
At the very top were the strange existences in the world. They took many forms, called themselves many names, and had done many things.
Soon, they learned. It got noisier when they did.
At first, they were like the rest. And then they started building. Creating. Developing. Progressing. And-
And-
And then they started harming.
Nothing harmed better than them.
Nothing progressed better than them.
Nothing developed better than them.
Nothing created better than them.
Nothing…was better than them.
Nothing.
And so the world waited.
Waited in the fire.
Waited in the ashes.
Waited in the flood.
Waited in the acid.
Waited in the plague.
Waited in the catastrophe.
Waited.
In the noise.
Word Count: 300