Isn’t that what everyone else does when they realize the inadequacy of life as it exists?
I get by with a little help from my friends <3
I should have been rereading Wuthering Heights for this past month so that I could feel appropriately existentially miserable on this fine Valentine’s Day.
You saw? I thought there was no answer?
But no kidding, that concept gets reinforced every day of my damn life.
Ahh yes. They stir up quite the controversy, you know.
I miss you.
My thought is me: that’s why I can’t stop. I exist because I think … and I can’t stop myself from thinking. At this very moment - it’s frightful - if I exist, it is because I am horrified at existing. I am the one who pulls myself from the nothingness to which I aspire: the hatred, the disgust of existing, there are as many ways to make myself exist, to thrust myself into existence.
So I sat here reading this in the bleak light of the overcast morning. I panicked. And then I decided to make some oatmeal.
that all images associated with “God is Dead” are so bleak.