~
Once, a mole nibbled on my shoe, I didn’t know what to do. #Meaning
~
(Negative-) Pride is such a terrible inhibitor of actual achievement, because people want to “get good” and get returns faster than is possible or really necessary. So, for the sake of looking good and feeling better in the short term, they deprive themselves of the time and freedom to play and mature and make as many mistakes as it takes to learn and become, in their own eyes, what good is, and not something someone else has told them is good, and thereby to also just be able to feel genuine pride independently in themselves, without the need to become boastful, or feel like an impostor.
~
It is better to be ugly and mobile than ornate and useless.
~
Suicide is the failure of everyone around you; which is why many don’t do it, they respect people too much.
~
Thousands of times a day the world fails someone.
~
Of life versus suicide, the appeal and its rub: nothing is neutral.
~
It’s not so much about dying, it’s more about not wanting to constantly stand there trapped or hurting, like some kind of fool, in the face of the horrors of this world, other people, and what life has become.
~
There are more ways to make a person feel bad about dying, than there are ways to make them feel good about living.
~
Some people are quite considerate, waiting for their parents or people either to die or to just finally give up on them, so they can commit suicide without the pain, grief, and drama of it all.
~
For what it’s worth, sometimes the only thing people need to hear is: “that’s alright and you’re alright”.
~
On the heights of wokeness, eschatology.
~
Whoever taught you to put others first, also taught you that you come second.
~
“Career” and “Future” versus Resignation from life, it’s a tough one. But Ultimately? People probably manage both.
~
What is the use of an afterlife, if you must still endure yourself even in death?
~
Happiness is where you aren’t.
~
Depression, a case for and against:
there is literally no point.
~
There’s happy, then there’s the kind of happiness where it seems someone somewhere must have divided by zero because, given what’s given, this should not be possible, it’s that incomprehensible and disturbing happiness that makes you think there’s something wrong there. Then you realize of course, one way or another they have all given up on life, they’re not really here, they’re living for an elsewhere. They know what it is, but they have divided themselves, and this is why there’s a disconnect between the positivity they’re living in and the metaphysics of this reality. It kind of scares me.
~
Nothing causes itself, so how could anyone be to blame for anything?
~
What do you propose truth is, when, just like theologians, we see scientist and philosopher alike bicker and disagree like bitter little children?
~
With enough context anything can become questionable.
~
At least it’s not my own fault that I exist, there is grace in that.
~
Your holes inevitably betray you.
~
“If you don’t shut up, I’m going to leave you here and drive away!”And that’s one way they learn that love is fallible.
~
Every win just marks the start of another round, there is no out.
~
If meaning in life is to succumb to a particular particularity, an ideal and predestined endgame, then, no, I should hope life has no meaning at all. As for purpose though, no thank you I don’t want any, entropy is plenty.
~
There is no better, there’s just more of the same with varying amounts of anxiety.
~
Half-baked ideas are more nutritious.
~
Anything that is anything, is firstly itself, trying to be something you deep down don’t really want to be will only hurt you, and if it goes on for years, it can harm everyone around you, and end up tearing you to pieces.
~
What doesn’t kill you probably leaves you resentful, but everything you can consistently and continually overcome makes you stronger, insofar as it doesn’t come at the cost of what you’re still able to feel.
~
Some people are strong, but most are just good at holding on.
~
There are occasions when you first have to be old before you can be young.
~
You must learn to accept yourself in your fullest shitness, if you do not, then you will look back one day and feel that there has never been a point in your life when you were real, when for a moment, you could just exist without the burden of worrying about how you will ever solve your inescapable state of perpetual decline and decrepitude. Fuck that, live.
~
You cannot have an argument with someone who is incapable of change.
~
Personality is what resides in the flows and cracks of language.
~
The only thing worse than an inanity, is a non-frivolous inanity, you know, a serious one.
~
The trouble with language is that it offers merely the occasion for reconstruction, not capture.
~
There are slumlords running better protection rackets than governments.
~
3 Buckets of Egofluid and 2 Doubt Crystals from mining one block of Amirite.
~
Personality is a pattern, if you were actually spontaneous, people’d be utterly alienated with you.
~
Finitude is both the source of beauty and its bane.
~
To our free spirits of the postmodern age (or hypermodern?, no, wait, metamodern?, or all mixed?, eh.), working for an other, or indeed for the [nonexistent] big other, may well be the greatest failure, though, then again, so is staying at home with aging parents, or worse, living on disability for having become a sad gluttonous mound of waste.
~
Dreams, it’s hilarious how they crumble — and fast too!
~
Some people are just born into impossibilities where any kind of “self-actualization” beyond resentful asceticism is simply not a doable thing. However, despite the heights of what anyone is able to feel, there is no salvation to be found in conjuring up the perfect personality or constructing the highest tower, no one is equipped to dream a self that is altogether stable, forever, and worth becoming, whereby you will either rage and burn out, or learn to settle, and, always being “not there yet”, be forever dissatisfied, jumping in big and small ways from platform to platform, always hoping beyond hope that this is the one thing that would complete life. Human internality and reality never come quite together, yet for the longest time no one questioned the endless pursuit of realization. This split nature was what made life possible, but a horrible thing has happened, at one point some, and now many if not most of us, recognized what it is, entered into subjectivity, and now since that, it seems all the stuffing came spewing out and we can’t seem to put it back in.
~
You’re locked in a bone case, the totality of your world comes through chemical signals and nerve impulses.
~
“I see a thing and there it is,” what nonsense. Unironically, it’d be better to say: “Seeing has a thing in it for me and I am seduced”.
~
If release from death and rebirth is the endgame, then the nihilist has always had the upper hand.
~
It’s not so much that the nightmare ends, it’s more that you do.
~
Fighting wi
th loved ones is heart breaking. You're going to hate them and love them, and hate loving them.
~
Kitsch is just a notch on the vogue wheel.
~
Of all things “Method and The Literature”.
~
Profundity in silence is like autofelatio, quite a stretch.
~
Nature does not frown upon anything, only people do that.
~
Rumors work because as often-bored emotional animals we fucking love drama, and it serves to weed out the chaff. So yeah, there’s that.
~
Gossip is virtue’s gamble.
~
Only the slightly examined life is worth living.
~
As a product of self-awareness, the first horror and longest lasting trauma: that great mother being has renounced us the moment we thought “I”. And with that, life begins as a never ending “Still-Face Experiment”—parent with sustained blank expression disturbs baby—wherein, until death, being’s grand indifference torments every skull bound psyche knowing themselves as such.
**
It is the fate of one’s nature as a conscious and nuanced emotional animal to forever be partitioned and recoiling in horror at the all-enveloping silence of great mother being, which began the moment we thought “I” and felt it too. Worse still, when fleschen mothers echo this trauma.
~
Watch out! The negation negates back.
~
As clumps of words, facts hold that some conditions or states, somewhere in the world, or in a domain of potential analysis, either is, or at least was once, a certain way. Thereby it’s feasible to say that facts which don’t consist in more or less directly sensing a thing, are preformed interpretations or judgements, potentially checkable but not always, offered as promises in the capacity of tokens for intellectual exchange or notion-marketing. With a sufficient density of these tokens of heightened-plausibility, one may erect and move potentially arbitrary intellectual constructions, often without raising as much as an eyebrow. The apparent facticity of fact deliverance is enough, to earn verisimilitude status for one’s nonsense amongst a sufficiently desperate, hungry, or uncritical audience.
~
Of course doubting facts is the first step towards a prime membership in the high society of tinfoil hattery. Then again, maybe not, because tinfoil hattery is a product of accepting facts, the “wrong facts”, which then raises the question, how does one come to the right facts? Though, perhaps one can just suspend judgement on facts, no? No, we can’t, not by ourselves, everything we hear gets woven into the stories we carry around, doesn’t matter whether we believe it or not. Which is why skepticism is probably alright as a virtue, it’s like chlorine in the water, it’s a wee bit poisonous, but at least it keeps nonsense from growing too much and taking over.
~
When an actor hams, it’s their modesty showing.
~
It’s a terrible trifle that on one end the non-physical does not exist, and on the other, of the physical, one cannot say at bottom whereof it should consist.
~
With the struggle to reach bottom, one arrives infinitely at new neologisms.
~
Always loving wisdom, never getting there.
~
A Sign, which reads: “Room and Board for the Homeless, Disabled, and Philosophical”
~
When the succession of years feels like you are shutting down very slowly bit by bit, as if you were a kind of HAL computer, witnessing the components of your mind being unplugged one by one.
~
Knowing better but not knowing better, pleading with the emptiness of whoever and whatever is there, to stop, to please just stop with it.
~
There is nothing beautiful in pain, and though it is not doled out equal no one is special for it, but we all understand it, and bond around it. It is through the through bleed of association that pain becomes a sacred drug, a positive-negative positive, prepaid-okness.
~
Don’t give in to your name, it wants to fly away and live without you.
~
Have a dream, not a dream-catcher that will never be real.
~
Total resignation isn’t really possible, unless you’re in a coma, brain dead, or catatonic. No, rather, it is much worse, even in our “leisure time” if we are not either active ourselves (walking, gymming, gaming, going-out, smashing…), then we are observing others do it (books, stories, videos, movies, series, vlogs, and, a little more abstractly, even memes). We are simply unable to become proper lumps if we can help it, there’s no escape from human bustling and work, even in our dreams, good or bad, do we adventure and do things, we’re utterly compelled and pushed along by drives, boredom, guilt, death-angst, and we’re also just so transfixed by stories and drama; seriously, other than death, significant brain damage, unconsciousness, and dreamless sleep, there is just no rest from life, we are so totally invested in feelings, actions, happenings, and their outcomes.
~
There is no end to the mockery of finitude.
~
Don’t worry, there might not always be light at the end of the tunnel but that doesn’t mean there’s not a bowl at the end of the funnel, or something. I don’t know.
~
Fear is the midpoint between stupidity and knowing better (than to care).
~
Instead of worrying about the lack of meaning in the face of a million years, contemplate the imminent loss of your memories and identity due to a possible brain trauma, which, like death, awaits ever more at every next minute. What then would all the once meaningful human connections, photographs, and stories matter, when you can no longer remember or identify yourself in them?
But then again, what’s worse? Dying, or, instead forgetting your sorrows and seeing the world a new, only to relearn and refeel the texture of it all, sort of hoping that this time it all works out, and inevitably being let down when the old pains haunt the new mind on top of new ones accrued in the confusion and the loss of time and connection, sort of like loading up someone else’s saved game and being sad that so many quests are already done, areas opened and sealed off, and that none of the achievements feel quite right or earned, or like you’re a tenant living in a house that you can’t bring yourself to believe that you own.
~
You aren’t your drama.
~
A cloth on a pole is no reason to sing or fall in a hole.
~
Like everything else, suffering just is, it’s not good or bad, but in the world for us, any rationally-irrational human actor who accepts feelings as premises for or against the project of living and reproduction, must, short of suicide, accede to being sadomasochistic, with life being what it is.
Morsels for the Depressed, Depraved, Pessimistic, and Otherwise Declining Page 2