K
Fellow philosophycels, rejoice! For we are here, right now, in spite the absurd. Allow me a few words to sooth the pain of your existence... Shards from my magnum-opus blackpill I am currently in the writing... (Honestly I would also enjoy some feedback to what I am going to write down below).
While we stand here debating matters of utmost irrelevance in the larger scope of society, of humanity or the universe itself, others out of the pure virtue of ignorance - or even better - genetical prowess engage into a truly profane numbing of the senses, hedonistic pursuits driven by debauchery and profligacy. In the end we are to blame... for we were born.
- Midnight, troubled mind, endocrine filth... why? Because I am, because I was born. What a grand tragedy, one that will forever haunt me till my last dying breath. A curse of flesh, a genetic misunderstanding, a prison of the uncreated.
- It is truthy the same overall feeling of not belonging, of a profound exercise into utmost futility, that permeates my mind. I pretend - and thus lie to myself - to take interest in what would matter little or almost nothing to me; had I been bestowed by the randomness of genetic recombination with slightly more varied traits, the tables would be turned. And as with any attempt, there comes only failure. Truth is that we still try to cope because we hope...
- One can only bestir himself mechanically without ever being caught up, from the prison that is his own mind; without ever being somewhere, without doing ever something of importance; to drag oneself trough life, as if it would matter. What attracts me most is one 'elsewhere'. But do I really know where that elsewhere is?
- Each time I fail - or delude myself long enough not - to think about death, I live on the constant impression of defrauding myself, of deceiving someone inside me. But after all, even if the time comes, would it not already be too late?
- It is truly better to be an animal than a man; even better, an insect than an animal; hell, a plant than an insect... At least we can just lay down the weapons, wither and rot.
- My Salvation? It is whatever diminishes the kingdom of consciousness, shatters the prison of memory and compromises its supremacy, I'm coming home.
- We have lost; we were born, what a tragedy! The universe has lost as much as we shall lose dying: Everything!
- I long for freedom, the true freedom that only a stillborn child can enjoy.
- I have always lived in fear of being surprised by the worst - a true appliance to the almost ludicrous idea of murphysm - thus, I tried in all circumstances to get a head start, that by flinging myself into misfortune long before it occurred. Time well spent indeed.
While we stand here debating matters of utmost irrelevance in the larger scope of society, of humanity or the universe itself, others out of the pure virtue of ignorance - or even better - genetical prowess engage into a truly profane numbing of the senses, hedonistic pursuits driven by debauchery and profligacy. In the end we are to blame... for we were born.
