#existentialism tw
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It was midnight. Then one o'clock struck. A little after two the Muskrat woke up and wanted to get
out of bed. He staggered sleepily downstairs and stopped in amazement in front of the sofa which
stood across the door. 'What an idea!' he muttered, trying to drag it away, and then of course the alarm
clock that Moominpappa had put there started ringing.
(...)
'Oh, it was only me,' said the Muskrat peevishly. 'I just wanted to look at the stars. I forgot all about
your stupid Groke.'
- Finn Family Moomintroll
Also inspired by the Shin Moomin episode Useless Scandals Are Useless
#moomins#moominvalley#art#snufkin#moomins snufkin#snufkin moomin#moomin snufkin#moomin muskrat#the muskrat#back again with more Muskrat but he's more interesting propaganda#absolutely funny how the '72 series managed to make him a more interesting character than the 2019 series tho like seriously#finn family moomintroll#comic#existentialism tw
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apologies for the late post today, have an extra as compensation :)
-🦋
#mod mika#textposts#ibara saegusa#hiyori tomoe#jun sazanami#eichi tenshouin#tori himemiya#mika kagehira#enstars#ensemble stars#enstars textpost#existentialism tw#death tw
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I hate what society has done to aging. Growing older and experiencing life should be a beautiful thing I should't be having a midlife crisis at age 25 damnit
yeah especially since,,,,,,,,,,,,,you're usually not done growing until you're 30. either physically or mentally you're still experiencing, learning, and growing as a person. truly i dont understand why society hasta have all these silly rules abt aging and stuff. what you can and cant do. what you should do or should have done, its nonsense.
enjoy your life anon. ik brains are silly and make it hell sometimes, but you're still REALLY young. you've got so much left of life ta experience, and this probably wont be the last time you experience one of these moments, but i hear that they get easier as you age. you dont hafta have everything figured out now and your life isnt over. dont let the fast pace of the internet fool you. and especially dont put pressure on yourself when you see people progressing in their lives at a different speed than you. take your time. live. enjoy the moment.
#easier said than done ik#ik that feel bro#it set in at 17 for me which is REALLY REALLY young but-#watching ppl my same age doing things i wasnt really got ta me i hadta work hard ta keep that in check#spacie splains#there are ppl my age who ik from highschool who have gotten ENGAGED or MARRIED im sitting here like-#oh my god ive never had a job b4. AND i cant drive#aging is beautiful it happens to everyone#yes‚ relish your youth‚ but dont fear getting older#soon this moment will be behind you#you'll look back in however many years and think 'damn what was i even worried abt?'#existentialism tw
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just fucking tripped over a tree root and fell flat on my face in front of my Cool New Friend Chase so now I guess I have no choice but to dissolve this universe and recreate it exactly how it was a few minutes ago
#you’ll cease to exist and be replaced by an identical copy who’ll never know they weren’t the original so sorry about that ig#also feel the need to stress that this is /j. I can’t actually do that. wish I could (THAT IS ALSO /J)#pkmn irl#pokeblogging#pokemon irl#existentialism tw#ask to tag
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THANAFROSTCHORIC
[IMAGE ID: a 7 striped flag with stripes of equal length. the stripes are coloured in the order of dark royal blue, violet, mid-toned violet, light violet, jordy blue, light blue, light gray]
a KEIN gender related to the passing of time, the dread of the eventual freezing over of the universe, the frozen existential dread when lamenting the passing of time, the cold fear of nothingness, the endless ticking of a frozen clock and the bone chilling expanse of space.
#corvihound coins#been a minute lol#existentialism#existentialism tw#thanatophobia tw#thanatophobia#frost#gender#mogai#mogai real#mogai coining#death#implied death#death tw
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thinking about hawking radiation and how even in the head death of the universe, black holes which will last long beyond life, will still die. it will take a long, long, long time; but. they will. death comes for us all, even the seemingly immortal. at the same time I’m also thinking of bfdi
song lyrics are from pressed flowers by Jack Stauber
under cut is close ups + no text
#black hole bfb#bfb black hole#tpot black hole#black hole tpot#bfb#tpot#bfdi black hole#black hole bfdi#unreality#existentialism tw#this needs tw tags but I have no idea what to tag#eyestrain#tw eyestrain#eyestrain tw
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hate how much media portrays immortality as a "meaningless existence" as if that's not why it'd be so fun. i would LOVE to spend thousands of years reading books, watching shows, and most importantly, making art. i would do whatever
"all your loved ones will die" skill issue.
"oh but what about when the earth dies are you just gonna float through space all alo--" NO! i'm gonna swim over to jupiter to get more stupider
#after that? i'll find something cool out there. you know i will#death tw#existentialism tw#ask to tag#what we do in the shadows type beat#like when nandor said he was gonna spend 12 years just reading books#the one fatal flaw however. is that i still hardly ever make art as a mortal#i don't know how i'd expect to do it all the time as someone with everlasting life
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How do you deal with the existential fear that is implanted on a constant basis that the system is failing and like it or not you’re in the system?
#swan says a thing#existentialism tw#like#I don’t know what the next year looks like much less the next five years#I want to follow my passion and be comfortably living but those two things fundamentally disagree#I don’t want to be a starving artist I want to share my story with the world and read on weekends and buy cute pins when I can
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She is just sitting there, contemplating her own complete lack of mortality. How everything comes and goes on this earth except for her.
#existentialism tw#❀⊱⦃ ⏤ {ic.} ⦄⊰❀#❀⊱⦃ ⏤ {open.} ⦄⊰❀#{✨Just immortal things 💗✨#{also hi i am temporarily free from data analysis purgatory}
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@aetherceuse || we love a good existential crisis on this blog
WHAT KIND OF A CREEPYPASTA PROTAGONIST DO YOU TAKE ME FOR, CLEFABLE DELACROIX AETHERCEUSE? OF COURSE I THINK ABOUT MY OWN MORTALITY EVERY MOMENT I HAVE. THAT'S LITERALLY WHAT LOST SILVER IS ENTIRELY ABOUT.
I, FOR ONE, WELCOME THE INEVITABLE HEAT DEATH OF THE UNIVERSE. WANDERING THE WORLD AS A HUSK OF MY FORMER SELF, RIPPED FROM THE COMFORT OF ETERNAL REST, IS HARDLY AN EXISTANCE. AT LEAST WHEN THE UNIVERSE CANNIBALIZES ITSELF, I CAN FINALLY EMBRACE THE NOTHINGNESS DEATH WAS SUPPOSED TO BRING.
Oh, I mean--
"I'M DEAD."
#FACE THIS NIGHTMARE. ic.#aetherceuse#death tw#existentialism tw#facial horror tw#blood tw#[[sorry clefable. there's a gougar inside of him.]]
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As Ruixiong argues with Phoebus and Giovanni at the docks by La Demonia Roja…
By this point, Rashid has given two glasses of arak–no more, no less. “Will that do, lad?”
Guy hiccups. “It’ll do for now. I would like more eventually.”
“Don’t become like me, Guy. Or Lady Lyna.”
“I’m not going to add a third alcoholic problem to this Crew, don’t worry.”
“.........Don’t drink yourself to death on purpose, Guy.
“I ought to let you know that as much as I intended for you and Ruixiong to be so drunk you couldn’t aid me during the Valentine holiday, the intention was just that: to get you drunk. Death by alcoholic poisoning was not at all my intention. I had no idea that amount of arak could kill you.
“You especially had a nasty death. Don’t put that scene in my head again. Please.”
Guy grumbles as he downs his second glass of arak. “Immortal.”
“It does not matter! My lad! You may be the only one in the Crew to take full advantage of our inability to stay dead, but death is still a highly horrible experience for the lot of us! I am not talking about waking up as a corpse or the possibility of enduring pain until it’s over.
“It’s a reminder of finality. A finality that we are denied as long as we are in service of the Devil. And therefore unable to reunite with those whom we lost years ago.”
“........”
“You dearly miss your mother, sister, and beloved. I dearly miss my wife, and son. As much as, unlike them, we cannot stay dead… the experience of death—or just witnessing it–reminds us-.... reminds me of how we are denied a spiritual reunion with those we so very cherish and treasure. But above all else… It also reminds us… and me… of how fast that love can be taken away. Especially if the last words spoken to them were unhappy.
“You have no idea how much you turning into salt scared us, Guy Duchamp. The very thought of one of our own losing their mortality to harsh words would have been a sorrow too great to bear for the rest of our eternal lives. Especially one so dearly beloved.”
“Did… I scare you all that badly when I ran away?”
“Terribly, my boy. Ruixiong couldn’t stop crying. Giovanni couldn’t prepare anything and not break down when there was an empty chair at the table. Abena kept rocking back and forth while holding Arcelia’s doll close to her chest–because you were Arcelia’s favorite uncle. Even Josep was deeply affected, pacing around the top deck in deep worry over you and watching out the horizon hoping… and praying you’d return.”
“And Phoebus? W-What did Phoebus do when I ran away?”
Rashid hesitates to answer. He is unsure of how to answer this. It’s not like Phoebus was proud of what he did or happy that he said words so harsh it prompted Guy to run away. But he wasn’t sure of how to tell Guy that Phoebus didn’t just suffer, but he even lashed out at the rest of the Crew. That would just upset Guy more. But then again…
“Phoebus was the first to search for you.”
“...He was??”
“Hopped on Mercure like a horse and dashed off like mad. It took him a while to have the courage to see you again after wallowing in guilt for what he said.”
“He… took initiative?”
“Got up his butt on his accord. No one held his hand or yelled at him to do so. All his own.”
That’s all Guy ever wanted. All he sold his soul for: for Phoebus to be okay. “He took initiative! Phoebus did something on his own! Without having to be pushed!”
“I wouldn’t say he wasn’t pushed. He was. For his love for you and your safety.
“Not to mention the many gifts that are awaiting for you. Ruixiong has them all. Throughout the holiday, assorted friends have come by to drop off Christmas gifts and many were specifically tailored to your likes. One was even a perpetual motion machine and a dragon tooth sword. Good for your fencing!”
There is quiet sobbing behind the door.
“See, Guy? You are loved. You are remembered. You are not always seen as something to be ashamed of. You’re one of us. One of Seven. We cannot be complete without you. We want to be there for you for every time your heart aches. We want to help you lift your burdens. We do not want to be cut off like we had to be with our friends and families of the past.
“We are a family, my boy. All Seven of us. Let us be there for you. As you have for us.”
“We will not abandon each other. We will not abandon you. So please... don’t abandon us.”
#[Sinfully Valentining 2]#death tw#religion tw#existentialism tw#[My Brother's Keeper]#[Ruixiong Saves Christmas?]#[Rashid al-Qadar]#[Guy Duchamp]
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∎ PROLOGUE, PART 1 :
THE STORM.
content warnings: dissociation, existentialism, horror, drowning
It's a dream. This has to be a dream.
Dustin had gone down through the patch of woods about half an acre behind their back yard. It was a pleasant downhill jaunt, either a quick shortcut or any number of scenic and--for a boy of his stature--treacherous routes. A bright, warm blue sky with patches of tiny, pale golden clouds powdered with drowsy lavenders and thin white borders. Like the breeze they lazed along high above without care. He wanted to get to an open view of the horizon quickly; it was so pleasant out that part of him was convinced it wasn't real. A dream or a sim-ya-nation, as Mr. Germain had called it. Something fake that looked very real.
The park ranger had explained it in much more detail the other weekend, but Dustin tired of mulling over what all would be considered a simyanation days ago. Now, while he went about his self-appointed duty of hunting invasive mollusks, he'd enjoy the weather. It truly was strange. There was hardly a whiff of a breeze, and despite it being well into the fall there was a smell of summery warmth, and it was indeed warm enough that he didn't need a jacket; how could he squander such a perfect day? A diversion from the woes of his early-yet life was far more than called for; despite being homeschooled his schedule was busy with the whims of adults' frets and worries. His mother called him "special", but he wasn't sure she meant it in the way dictionaries actually defined "special"; Dustin had more surgeries than birthdays at this point, and more scars as a result than he hd friends. That didn't sound very special to him. In fact, he felt like an alien. Maybe that was why he needed so many medical procedures, and Mom simply didn't have the heart to tell him that his otherworldly parents had died in the spaceship crash when he was a baby. Well, at least she was trying to keep him healthy. Still, Dustin would be thankful when his adventure today would distract him from all that.
Like always he brought a bucket with him, a gardening hand shovel from Mom's toolbox, and the old hammer he'd found in the ruins of a farm shack in the woods surrounding his great-uncle's property. It had served him well since he snuck it home at the sprightly age of four. And best of all, Mom still had no idea. For a good part of the morning Dustin picked at and crushed sharp clusters of zebra mussels in the shallow waters, gingerly scooping them out with the shovel to deposit into the bucket. He'd made a small hole in the bottom for draining out the water. But who knew how many invasive microbes were in the water. Dustin was only one small boy, though; he couldn't save the Great Lakes in a day.
But it was the ripple on that great water's surface, that made him look back up to the sky. The water moved-- shivered, almost-- as if something vibrated the earth at finely high frequencies. And the ripples came and went in the blink of an eye. And he could no longer hear its lapping.
Dustin watched the clouds' reflection on the lake. Hang on. The clouds had been barely moving at all. But now they were-- at an ungodly speed, and changing shape so fast he couldn't keep his eyes on their movement. Why are they red? He couldn't smell any fire, that was the only cause he could think of. Why are they moving so fast? Looking to the east, where they fled from… more were coming. In ripples. In waves. The sky looked like a red, furious ocean. A low rumble shuddered through him, but it didn't come from above, or even below.
It came from the water.
He rose to his feet with a petrified slowness, and stared across the still yet tremouring lake. It scared him to look, he wanted to look away. This has to be a dream.
Someone stood on the water. Something.
The lake was miles wide, there was no way he would be able to make out so much as the colours of something that far out. But he could. Every single detail. He could almost feel the cold flakes of grey filtering into his lungs as he took in each shaky little breath.
A young man was standing there. Or maybe it was a teenage boy, he couldn't tell normally, and the cracks veining through his skin like dead-dry dirt made it all the more difficult. He had eyes but Dustin couldn't think of them as such. They didn't look like eyes. White, almost glowing and at the same time swallowed by the shadows that engulfed his whole form. He only opened his mouth to breathe out those freezing flecks. They weren't snowflakes. It might be ash. His clothes were a ragged, heavy bundle of layers, like he'd just come from the Antarctic. Everything about him was grey. Why was it so dark around him?
Dustin realised then that the thing was walking. Slowly, like an ancient giant just awoken from its slumber through the days of Man's rule, ambling across a glassy wasteland. He could hear the footsteps now-- the source of the thunder. Behind, and surrounding him, miles away as he was, Dustin now saw the entangled forest of dead trees and brambles that writhed in perfect stillness. His eyes couldn't make sense of their unnatural, sapient shapeshifting, twisting amongst one another and snapping into pieces of a larger one plant, that despite being bereft of all signs of natural life, gnashed sap-bleeding maws and wailed from knots contorted like eyes in anguish. The forest teemed with deafening evil and suffering--
And the boy on the water was perfectly quiet, at peace Dustin thought, as he slowly approached.
There was no one, or nothing else, around. Dustin's gaze was trapped on the boy and his forest, unable even to turn his head. The trees and mountains in the corners of his vision were black as night. The boy was coming towards him.
Upon realising this, it was like the young man heard the very confirmation of his fears. He looked at him. Looked. As their eyes met and locked everything thundered within Dustin and without. He couldn't look away. Couldn't move. And the other boy couldn't, either. Somehow, he just knew. Are you afraid too?
This has to be a dream.
They sat at the bottom of the lake now. He didn't recall moving at all, nor did he recall the boy moving either. There was simply no more land, light, or air, and they sat across from one another, legs crossed and hands rested on their knees in an uncanny mirroring of the other. Dustin could feel the terror, and something else. Heavy, hollow, yearning impossibilities. Squandered. Emotions and a lack of them that he didn't understand and yet was being maimed by their agony regardless of his confusion. The other tilted his head. Dustin's tilted with it. The boy breathed in water, and exhaled ash. Dustin inhaled ash, and breathed out water. What's happening?
Don't move. Just wait. This will pass.
What a stupid thing to think. All he wanted to do was shoot up out of the water, sprint to his bedroom and never venture out of it again. Dustin sat upright; it hurt every rib and vertebra in him to do so, and the older boy creaked upright in time with him. That heavy not-quite-just sadness washed over the two again.
If only. If only.
Dustin's heart was racing. He couldn't feel his heartbeat. He couldn't tell if he was breathing any more. Am I dead?
No. I'm sorry.
Sorry he wasn't dead? He tried to scoot back away from the boy and his forest. The trees surrounded them on all sides; it felt like he was breaking his own neck just to glance around and see them. Was this how he was going to die?
No. It will be worse.
Why am I thinking these things?
You aren't. I'm sorry.
I want to go home.
It will never be home again.
I want to go there any way.
You will. You have no choice.
Get away from me.
I can't. I'm sorry.
Who are you?
I'm sorry. I'm sorry.
Are you--?
I am.
Am I--?
You should wake up now.
I'm trying. Why can't I?
It's too late.
You have no choice.
But I wish you would.
Are you stuck here? Do you need help?
Don't.
Let me help you.
Dustin reached for one of those hands, which had sprouted sluggish roots that burrowed into the other's leg and held it trapped there.
You shouldn't. You can't. It's too late. I'm sorry.
He paused. Centimetres from olive flesh meeting grey tree bark. Tears were burning out of his eyes, but they were underwater, and they weren't tears. He watched the ashes float away from his own face. His colourless reflection watched the ash leaking from his own eyes. Then they looked at each other, and the hollow feeling of grief and guilt named itself in Dustin's chest. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.
Their hands met. And the universe erupted into a deafening nothingness.
Please just let me wake up.
Ԁlǝɐsǝ ɾnsʇ lǝʇ ɯǝ ʍɐʞǝ nd˙
Dustin never ran so hard in his life. It was a small one, granted, but it was precious to him; possibly more precious than the notorious One Ring was to the miserable Gollum. Neither were on his mind now. Neither existed in that moment. The moment they'd held hands, a tangle of gnashing vines burst out from both their veins. Two pairs of eyes snapped open, even though they already had been-- one pair dark blue, the other completely white. Dustin screamed. The other Dustin didn't… but the forest did. Tree trunks split open like bones and guts to let out their agonized wails and moans, and they trailed after the poor child even as he ran through an utterly black nothingness.
He couldn't hear the cries for help shredding from his throat and out his mouth, only feel the pain they caused. Soon all he could hear was the nothing's tremouring silence. In a blink, and in hours upon hours, Dustin's feet carried him as fast as they could. Everything burned, there was surely a fire broiling in his chest and abdomen. He began to choke, gag on his own coughs, and that was when he tripped and fell.
But there was no land. Dustin's shoulder and face met water, the impact stinging, and he did not stop toppling. Rather, he flipped and rolled, with no slowing. A force that he was now aware was engulfing him, crushing him, dragged and jerked him by an unchartable whim-- he was still choking. A new burn flowed through his lungs and nose. By some stroke of luck his dire panic inspired a smidge of logic: he was underwater now. With anything that could so much as pass as might, Dustin turned himself to where it felt like he could perhaps be upright, and kicked off into a frantic swim. The waves bashed him off course left and right. It was getting darker than it was brighter; by the time his head broke the surface of Lake Superior's churning waves, it was by the grace of physics alone, and he was unconscious.
I wish
(mom!)
you hadn't
(mommy!)
done that.
#home is behind : THE WORLD AHEAD#the mirror of your dreams : VERSE STORYLINE#campaign module : DRABBLES#horror tw#drowning tw#dissociation tw#existentialism tw#posting this now cos if i keep nitpicking it i never will
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Ice Anon - I don't know what I believe anymore, as I have probably mentioned before my parents are Christian so I've been raised Christian. I've been calling myself Christian since I was young but recently was thinking of going ChristoPagan.
but now, I don't know if I even want to stay Christian. But I do still feel kind of connected to Christianity and some of their symbols despite all of the trauma I have from the church.
like I wear a cross necklace a lot cause it's a nice necklace and for some reason wearing it makes me feel happy, but I feel like if I ditch Christianity that I'd have to ditch the necklace too cause it's a Christian symbol.
I know I believe every religion coexists and that all of their Gods are real, but I don't know what religion I want to subscribe to. I don't know what God/s I want to follow, if I want to follow any. I don't know what I believe about death and the afterlife.
I feel like I don't know anything anymore and it hurts me, having set beliefs is something that makes me feel happy and secure, having a God makes me feel better than not having one. I'm so confused and I don't know what to do.
Another reason I don't know if I want to ditch Christianity or not is I worked so hard to stay Christian and to prove that being Gay/Trans wasn't a sin in Christianity cause I was one. I worked so hard to reevaluate my faith and beliefs about Christianity for that very reason.
And I feel like if I leave Christianity that it will have all gone to waste.
I also often worry that Christians are right, what if I do go to hell to be tortured forever? I don't believe in hell but I still have these thoughts and I don't know how to stop it.
I don't think all your work in understanding that Christianity and being gay/trans are compatible would go to waste if you decided to stop following the religion, nonnie. I think it can still really help you understand your faith and your relationship with Christianity, so that if you decide to stop following Christianity, you'll know it's because the religion doesn't bring you joy, peace of mind, comfort, or it just doesn't feel right, and not because it feels incompatible with your gayness/transness.
You can also see it as you setting the foundation for other deconstruction processes and/or belief reevaluations you might want to do in the future. I've found that once you start questioning and deconstructing the beliefs you internalised growing up, it becomes easier to do it again with other beliefs. And it also changes and shapes the way we interact with others sometimes—it can become easier to realise when others are struggling with internalised beliefs they don't even notice are there, and to help others overcome those beliefs if they come to us for help. You can be there for others in a way you couldn't before.
In general, I don't think working on our beliefs and reevaluating them is ever a waste of time, regardless of how much we change and continue to grow overtime.
But I think the most important thing here is that you should not feel chained to a religion just to prove a point or to be "representation" or "proof" that someone can be gay/trans and Christian. You're a person, nonnie. Not a character. Not proof or inspiration for others. And you do not need to prove anything to anyone—not to your past self, not to Christians, not to homophobes or transphobes, not to anyone. We're not here to be representation or activism or proof of anything. We're here to be people, and to live our lives fully and truthfully.
I think it's understandable to be scared of hell even if you don't believe in it. It's a very powerful threat that has been used for many centuries to keep many people scared and compliant, and it's absolutely okay if it takes you a while to overcome this fear, nonnie. As someone who also grew up in a Christian family (I'm an atheist now, albeit still culturally Christian), it personally helped me to realise that there's a lot of similarities between abusive power dynamics and how the church paints God, at least where I live. Not just because of the threats (“he'll sentence you to eternal damnation if you anger him or if you don't believe in him despite the lack of proof”), but also in the wanting people to feel guilty over their own thoughts (you can sin even just in your own mind, and if you do he'll know),wanting you to please him even if it goes against your own happiness, and a long etc.
I think maybe, if you want to, it could be useful to read into the creation of hell; I mean, it wasn’t always a thing in Christianity, and then it underwent many, many changes throughout the centuries until it became what we know it as today. Maybe understanding how and why it was shaped into what it is today can make it less scary for you. Knowledge can be a strong weapon to fight fear.
Also, I don’t see why you couldn’t continue to wear a cross necklace if it brings you comfort! Your relationship and history with Christianity are your business and no one else’s. You don’t owe anyone an explanation about your beliefs or what Christian symbols you wear and why. You’ve gone through so much trauma with this religion, I think you’re more than entitled to reclaim any aspects of it that might continue to bring you comfort.
Sending a virtual hug ❤️
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Felix’s lack of self preservation in the pokéverse is....something.
It’s not actively intentional, more like he doesn’t think before jumping into danger.
But of course, the reason that he doesn’t think, is less actively putting himself lower and more like
He doesn’t have an absurdly good vision of the future. His child self, having been suicidal, never really could plan or hope for anything, so there’s just a lack of feelings there once the death-seeking thoughts faded out.
There’s mostly just anger left after he’d snapped, and decided to live in spite of not being ‘wanted’ by society. Basically, he’s never felt specifically cared about, beyond the notion of agape for a stranger, so he never had any ‘Future’ that was too precious to squander.
Lives too in the moment, doesn’t think about his desires too seriously.
He’s never feared death anyway, so doesn’t have a ‘reason’ to, unless it prevents him from saving the world or someone’s life, anyways.
#headcanon.#felix fae.#death tw#existentialism tw#suicidal ideation mention#ask to tag.#like. it's not Ash-like either. i mean it kind of is but#Ash or somebody would make the active choice. of like 'my death is worth it' kind of deal. like sacrificial#For Felix all the thought is going towards Doing. idk he's very numb. depersonalized#not 'this is who i am and who i am would die' and more not even Considering his personhood#saw death talk on the dash but also kind of out of it since work soon
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✂ - a vivid memory
[Of all the disturbing things they’d seen in this crater, the sight of their own face reflected a million times over was perhaps the most disturbing.
This room was a strange one, massive and lined wall to wall with the crystals that grew everywhere in this wretched pit. It was brightly lit, but Trace couldn’t see from where, or what. It seemed like the only object in this room was a … machine? Some small structure in the room’s centre, stark and ominous against its iridescent surroundings.
Trace approached cautiously, curiosity overriding fear. The machine seemed inert, or biding its time.
Shaking hands overlaid the cold surface of the machine, then Trace pulled themselves over, peering into its centre. They squinted, examining the machination. Was that a spark?
Suddenly a rumbling, rushing sound filled Trace’s ears. They barely registered the machine coming to life, rising around them, before that tiny spark of life flashed into something brighter-
Filling their vision-
Filling their mind-
And then they saw-
everythingandeverythingthesuncollapsedtheearthcrumbledtoashthestarsbledanddiedtheuniversedecayedtobonebeforetheireyestheysawthelightfadefrombehindtheeyesoftheirbrothertheirparentstheirschoolmatestheysaweverythingendagainandagainineverywayforeverandeverandever-
The light faded, and the machine returned to slumber. And Trace found themselves surrounded by faces that were not their own.]
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about to go insane anti internet instead of posting to tumblr I’m gonna print out stickers saying weird insane shit and plastering them randomly around the city I’m going to invest in a carrier pigeon for my text messages and I’m going to get a discman to listen to music everywhere I go and print out my photos that I will take with a real camera I CAN’T DO THIS ANYMORE I NEED THINGS TO BE REAL AND TANGIBLE WHERE AM I??? HELP??? I hate you tiny box….. maybe I don’t want to be interconnected with everyone all the time…. I’m fucking trapped in this weird scary void get me out???? hello???? hello can you hear me????
#sorry for getting existentiaaallllll…. it will happen again#I’m like actually trapped in here I’m like#a wizard losing himself pondering the orb#imagine if a fucking wizard got addicted to pondering the orb#just like spending hours with his mind lost to the ether#existentialism tw#I don’t fucking know#you think I know how to tag things????#ugh
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