#existentialdread
Am I happy?
My mother keeps asking me if I'm okay, and I keep mumbling yes while spaced out, lost in thought, or reaching for my phone to do nothing at all
I am happy, so why does she keep asking
True, there's a frightening emptiness to my day that I tried to pass off as mundane and peaceful, simply enjoying my break
And there's a dull complacency as my work becomes repetitive, and my time slowly disappears
And I feel distanced from everyone
But there are good things in my life
I am happy. I am in love.
I am peaceful, present, perfectly okay
Getting better all the time
I am happy
Right?
I don't think I'm particularly unhappy
Today doesn't feel very different from any other day
Perhaps more boring, but not depressing
There's a certain level of sadness and dread that's a part of everyday life
That you learn to live with
That you learn to be complacent with
Isn't it scary growing old
There are no grandiose battles to rage against
A bad day doesn't have life threatening stakes
And frustration about the road you're on won't be enough to inspire action
Sad and sleepy and okay with it
Because there are good things in life
And because it's too much effort
To look up from my phone and try to change things
I don't think I'm in any pain that I haven't experienced since I was child
A slight emptiness, a little bit of darkness underneath everything
Its weird, I remember the first time things felt dark as a child
I was at a shopping mall with my parents, and things suddenly got very dark
And the brightness of the day only made everything seem darker underneath
I wonder if we're just born with a level of pain that eventually bores us
I wonder if everyone in my family is secretly unhappy, but too bored or inarticulate to address it
I wonder if this is what adulting feels like
Lost in the sway of circular time, slowly speeding up
A frog in a boiling ***
Dull and slow-witted
Content in an empty house
I thought falling in love was supposed to save me
Silly silly me
Now I only have this magnified guilt that I'll drag my girlfriend into the mess that is my feelings
That I'll make her feel like she's not enough
That I'll get so absorbed in my own sadness I'll forget to love her
Or forget to love anyone
I thought poetry was supposed to save me
But we've been here a thousand times, doubled back over the X on the ground
Borne backwards into our own tire tracks
Rearranged all the faces into a myriad of flowers and dirt
Unbuttoned all the coats
And mopped the floors of any blood
How were the horrors of the mundane today, sir?
Forgettable as usual, Alfred.
Excellent, sir. More wine?
Mar 22
Mar 22, 2026 at 8:59 AM UTC
A cramp shoots from shoulder to ribs
It’s hard to reach the soft hand
with a nail
How many times can I nail myself to the cross
I inhale the freezing air
gills sting unpleasantly
The heart loses its rhythm for a moment
It is not
the time
Great mouths spat me out onto a rough wall so that I would seep into pores and cracks
Freely
It would be better to be wall paint
Than the phlegm of the Leviathan
A red spot marks the skin
around the mouth
The blade scrapes pleasantly on the texture
Blood flows out from the inside
Sincerely
Reflected emptiness in the eyes
calls up the void
I am gone already
Because I never became
I was not
Mar 3
Mar 3, 2026 at 10:08 AM UTC
I am constantly trying to communicate something incommunicable, to explain something inexplicable, to tell about something I only feel in my bones and which can only be experienced in those bones. Basically it is nothing other than this fear we have so often talked about, but fear spread to everything, fear of the greatest as of the smallest, fear, paralyzing fear of pronouncing a word, although this fear may not only be fear but also a longing for something greater than all that is fearful
Aug 4, 2025
Aug 4, 2025 at 2:04 PM UTC
There is a heaviness within me
that never leaves,
no matter what I do,
no matter what I say.
Omnipresent,
like a death sentence:
slow,
cruel.
My thoughts are curses,
blasphemous, dark, vile,
a constant sacrilege
against a power too great
to subjugate.
I'm held in chains,
my humanity a gift
wrapped in a cage.
I try to run,
but it claws at my skin.
Now I'm left
with bones and veins,
dragging myself through the sand
as the clock ticks,
a reminder
that my time will soon end.
My arms flail in despair,
reaching for an anchor
before I vanish
into an abyss
too vast to comprehend.
Yet an echo chants in verses,
a lament of truth
that feels like a burden:
All is fleeting.
Nothing stays.
Love comes in waves.
It drowns you
in euphoric bliss,
where two souls intertwine
for a single kiss.
Then you're alone,
washed up on the shore,
wondering
when it began
and how it came to end.
You bask in the light of happiness,
but darkness always follows,
leaving you cold and hollow.
Only death is certain.
Only you exist.
Others are but mirrors.
Their reflections never change,
a constant dissonance
between who I am
and what I try to escape.
I've been cast out of heaven
to rot in this hell,
among demons and devils
whose desires drip like venom.
Greed in their eyes,
wrath in their hearts,
sweet nothings
masked beneath lust.
Cleanse me of this place.
Burn me:
sevenfold,
tenfold.
Rid me of this plane.
Banish me to silence,
where death does not toll,
to the place where time
exists only as a shadow.
Jul 3, 2025
Jul 3, 2025 at 3:50 AM UTC
"O, you who march toward hell, embrace death—it is your only chance to escape alive.
Oh, you are oblivious to hope, beware—you stand on the brink of losing it forever.
Oh, you lingering at the edges of oblivion, existence is no game of hide-and-seek—find yourselves before you vanish.
You who arrive here know you are already among the departed. Calm your fears, for the worst has yet to come.
O, you who weep for the past, dry your tears. The past was once the present, but the future… the future will never be."
May 22, 2025
May 22, 2025 at 7:27 PM UTC