#cosmicjoke

[7m7n7]

NOT COSMICJOKES UGLYASS COMING AT ME WITH A FAKE ACCOUNT AFTER ALL THAT MORALITY YAPPING LMFAOOOOOAOOOAOAOAOAOAOOAOOOOOOO

[moonspirit]

BEAUTIFUL PERSON AWARD! Once you are given this award you're supposed to paste it in the asks of 8 people who deserve it. If you break the chain nothing happens, but it's sweet to know someone thinks you're beautiful inside and out

Oohhhhh thank you so much T____T Back at you, here and in your inbox!

[psychopomp-and-circumstanced]

Mel B dated an Icelandic businessman called Fjölnir Thorgeirsson and that is absolutely the most made up name I've ever fucking heard.

I may have lost the plot here but Iceland is not a real fucking place.

First they wanted me to believe that Iceland, a real nation on earth, had a dating app to stop accidental incest.

I said ok.. Who am I to query on this tiny island's private matters.

Then they said hey remember that island with the anti incest app? Well hold on to your socks, because baby it's got no crime.

I said, alright, Life is full of the unexpected!

Then they told me mayor of the Nation's capital was a famous sketch comedian.

Ladies and gents and nonbinary themts I know when a joke's being had at my expense.

And now. Now I'm meant to believe that a REAL PERSON, whose occupation is just businessman and nothing else, has the fake cartoon name Fjölnir Thorgeirsson. Really? Does that not sound like someone just spat out a name they thought sounds vaguely Scandinavian??

Fjölnir Thorgeirsson. You cannot convince me that isn't something thrown together cause they were filming a sketch show in 30 minutes and execs axed one of their skits so they cobbled some tenuous bit about Mr. BUSINESS himself, Fjölnir Thorgeirsson, owner of Ice and Land and Associates.

You cannot. This is not a real country. This is a cosmic joke and every citizen of Iceland is in on it and they're mocking us!!

[madevampselle]

BEAUTIFUL PERSON AWARD! Once you are given this award you're supposed to paste it in the asks of 8 people who deserve it. If you break the chain nothing happens, but it's sweet to know someone thinks you're beautiful inside and out.

❤️

[tmarshconnors]

Public Transport’s Cosmic Joke

There’s a universal truth we’ve all experienced, yet science refuses to acknowledge it: public transport operates on a quantum schedule. It's late only when you're early, and right on time—or worse, early—when you’re late. This phenomenon isn’t a glitch in the system. It’s personal.

The Great Cosmic Punishment

Picture this: you’ve actually made it out the door on time, after battling through an existential crisis, a broken coffee machine, and that one sock that vanished into a parallel dimension. You reach the bus stop with seconds to spare, triumphant, only to see the dreaded “Delayed” sign. It’s not a minor delay either. No, it’s a soul-sapping, life-reconsidering wait. The transport gods are laughing at your punctuality.

On the flip side, when you’ve overslept or decided to push your luck with “just one more episode,” the universe flips the script. You sprint towards the stop, praying to any deity who will listen, only to see the bus zoom past you like it’s auditioning for Fast & Furious 12. You swear the driver smirked.

Is It a Conspiracy?

While transit systems claim their schedules are dictated by traffic patterns and logistical hurdles, we know better. This is a psychological war waged by fate itself. The more you need that train to be on time, the higher the chance it’s stuck behind a mysterious “signal issue.”

When you're running late, though, Murphy's Law dictates that everything else works perfectly. Trains are suddenly punctual. Traffic evaporates. Even the ticket machine seems unusually cooperative. The universe rubs salt into your wounds by aligning itself just to prove your tardiness was the problem all along.

Coping Strategies

Since public transport isn’t going to change, we must adapt. Here are some tongue-in-cheek strategies for beating the cosmic joke:

Be Late on Purpose: If the train's going to show up when you’re late anyway, why not embrace it? Pretend you’re a laid-back, tardy traveler and let the transport gods adjust their timing to spite you.

Reverse Psychology: Start acting like you don’t care about being on time. If fate senses you’re unbothered, it might lose interest in tormenting you.

Meditate on Chaos: Accept that public transport operates in its own dimension, one that pays no heed to human schedules. This Zen-like attitude won’t get you there faster, but it’ll save you from a stress-induced aneurysm.

Final Thoughts

Public transport’s peculiar timing isn’t just a quirk—it’s a reminder that we’re not in control of everything. Sometimes, we just have to laugh (or cry) at the irony and roll with it. Next time the bus is late, take a breath, sip your overpriced coffee, and remind yourself: at least you’ve got a story to tell.

Have you fallen victim to this cosmic transport trap? Share your tales of woe in the comments below!

[mineofilms]

Nihil sub sole novum

From the End of the Beginning of this year, last year, most years, every year. Ah, a three-year odyssey, where time is less of a straight line and more of a spiral. If anything, these past few years have been a masterclass in the ironically absurd. Between the incompetence of systems that promise salvation (insurance, healthcare, politics, religion) and the existential dreariness of a body that stubbornly clings to life despite all odds, the journey feels less like progress and more like a forced march toward an inevitable, unremarkable end. One cannot help but wonder—has anything truly changed, or are we simply treading water in the flood of our own making? Our current way of life, metaphorical and literal, serves as a backdrop to this existential performative dance. The wreckage left in its wake mirrors not just the physical destruction but the internal chaos of living in an age where security is fleeting, satisfaction a myth, and self-importance via social media dominates. The grand dream of perfection—whether in homes, bodies, relationships, or ideologies—is swiftly eroding, leaving behind the stench of human vulnerability. Yet, in the face of this, there's a curious resignation. We become more connected than ever before while we are more disconnected than ever before. Defies logic, but here we are. The repairs are slow, the bills pile up, but at least there's a sense of grim humor in the absurdity of it all. One adapts, kicks rocks barefoot, to the constant erosion, which, in its own right, becomes a form of rebellion against the very systems that demand our submission.

The steady march of time continues, dragging more medical frustrations, loss, and the weary realization that life is as much about enduring as it is about achieving anything meaningful. Health problems, relationships, and even political ideologies become so much noise against the backdrop of the real question: What’s the Point? So, as the years accumulate, what is left to do but press forward, not in hope or optimism, but because time, relentless in its ticking, doesn’t really offer an alternative. The absurdity, after all, is the only thing that’s truly constant. Is your life a carefully constructed narrative, or are you simply improvising a tragic farce with occasional comedic beats? A theater of existence through a lens. From hurricanes that rip apart our homes and finances to the inevitable decay of the human body. I am always pondering the inherent futility of attempting to control the uncontrollable. Existential dilemmas emerge from mundane struggles: rebuilding without the tools or even a blueprint for the tools becomes a symbol of a compromised life in a dream where inflation ensures the rich get richer and the rest get a crash course in survival. Oh, that isn’t a dream. That’s been a reality for most of us. There’s a sharp turn into the familiar friend of entropy. Here lies the ironic absurdity of caregiving: futile efforts to prolong a life that ultimately evaporates into oblivion. Yet, I welcome musings of AI, conceptual horror, and the darkly comedic nature of politics, whether life has meaning, but whether meaning itself is the cruelest joke of all. They say “live and learn,” but if one hasn’t learned, did they ever live? Whenever I heard a “saying,” and it starts with “they say.” Who the hell are “they?” It makes me want to hunt down, “they,” slap them in the head.

Welcome in social media, the internet’s great experiment in collective brain rot. What begins as communication to gain different perspectives turns into tribalism in online spaces evolving into unhealthy internet subcultures, where trolls and influencers battle for supremacy in a digital coliseum of irrelevance. Internet idealism now reduced to a sandbox for the trivial and the vindictive. Does it even matter whether a troll, a cultist or elitist wins the argument if the platform itself is a dumpster fire of collective word vomit from narcissists? Granted elitists wouldn’t be on social media all that much. They are too busy ‘eliting’ themselves to more monies. When you have loads of cash, does one even want or need social media? Woke or unwoke, left or right, preaching the Lord’s name or not; these labels serve merely as masks for the fear that underpins human existence: the terror of being forgotten in a universe that never cared in the first place. The message—a searing reminder that the more we “connect,” the more we expose the gaping void within ourselves while disconnecting from the people that are actually in our reality. We try to venture out. One can only wave their hands so much to get someone else’s attention. If they choose to ignore that and you know deep down you were forward with that concept of communication. It isn’t on you to care. You attempted, they played dumb. Why would you accept that from any situation or person? The floodwaters of nature are matched only by the flood of systemic incompetence, with insurance premiums rising as fast as the costs of rebuilding. The house, much like life itself, becomes a metaphor for the disillusionment we all feel: repairs are never as simple as they seem, and some losses—like the pool cage and later the entire pool lanai—are just too damn expensive to replace. Yet, here we are and instead of descending into despair, we just realize life goes on, even when the dream moves slowly towards a singularity. You can’t save everything, but you can at least salvage the absurdity of it all, laugh and curse the fake God in the sky.

These reflections are framed not by sorrow, but by existential absurdism: does it matter? Does the universe even care a blip within a blip within a blip within an ocean, within a glass, on a planet that was swallowed by a giant space whale even care? In a world where the system is rigged and the body betrays you, the only thing left to do is keep moving forward—until the final, inevitable reset. Whether sudden or prolonged, life and the death of that life is just the final joke in a single frame of reference full of bad punchlines.

With that said 2025 is going to be a little different, at least in how I attack my writings. I have been so busy with some other things that I haven’t been able as much to work on my own stuff. I am slowly but actively taking all my blogs and converting them to audio/video presentations. They are not podcasts. I am just taking the written blogs or essays using an AI voiceover to read it with some sort of video attached to it. I like the audio spectrum. It’s like a "visualizer" for audio that allows you to see a visual for the sound, making it a neat little creative tool. I will be producing a real music video for the band I work with. Going low tech with that as well. Going for a 90s grunge or metal vibe of the time. I have a lot of audiobooks to get through this year. Many that deal with black hole fiction and stories revolving around time dilation. I want to put out a few short-stories this year as well and work on something bigger. As of right now I do not have a real writing schedule like I usually work from, but my next essay will be on labels. What they are and why they are important. We have had labels longer than sugar. I will probably write a lot of reviews on these science fiction books. The more of these more existential fictions the more it will draw me into thinking about reality and how I want to formulate my own stories. I got some solid ideas that I feel like I want to talk about. I think short-stories with expansion in mind is the best way for my brain to operate when writing. I will also continue to doing tech-style essays on some of the odd computer stuff I tend to tackle. So yeah, 2025 is gearing up. I am glad I am able to think about this in a healthy place in my brain and not have too many delusions of grandeur.

As I look ahead to 2025, the creative landscape feels like a vast, uncharted universe—full of potential, ready for exploration. Whether it’s blending audio-visual projects, diving into the abstract depths of existential fiction, or tackling the nuanced power of labels, the journey is ongoing. But, like a supernova, I’m aware that growth and creation are processes of expansion and contraction, marked by moments of clarity amidst chaos. It’s a balance between the infinite and the finite—an ever-evolving dance of ideas and reality. Here’s to the art of becoming.

Nihil sub sole novum Latin for (Nothing new under the sun) by David-Angelo Mineo 12/31/2024 1,467 Words

[chishiyasan]

💜💜💜SEND THIS TO TEN OTHER BLOGGERS YOU THINK ARE WONDERFUL💜💜💜

thank you so much cosmic! right back at ya 💜

[bedknees]

🎄 Send these trees to ten people you wish to have a good holiday and a happy new year!🎄🥰

Omg Cosmic ty!! You're one of my favorite blogs, so this makes me so happy!! I hope you had/have a great holiday and new year as well! ❤️

[starshower1215]

I loved your fic Sunshine!! It scratched that post-canon itch. I imagine you have good taste in fics, so I wanna ask- Do you have any fic recommendations? Preferably angst. Any pairing (levi pairings, aruani) is good as long as it’s not x reader. Self recs are also appreciated!

Hi anon,

That is incredibly flattering of you, thank you! I'm happy you liked it. Honestly, I don't read a lot of fanfiction at all, and the ones I do read don't tend to revolve around shipping much, so it's good taste to me, but taste is subjective. However, on the topic of recommendations, I always, always direct the inquirer to the first one I'm about to list:

TW: mentions of rape and suicide from here

This Life, After by wbss21, or @cosmicjoke here on Tumblr. It is such an incredible read. It pairs Onyankapon and Levi in a canon post-war world setting and focuses heavily on Levi's disabilities, recovery, and mental illnesses and insecurities — not only the ones resulting from the war and the Survey Corps, but also ones resulting from his childhood and adolescence. Cosmic has such an in-depth understanding of Levi's character and of the issues she depicts, I could not recommend this fanfic enough. I know that it may not be everyone's cup of tea, as even though you've requested angst, it is heavy angst. But it turned my attention to so many things that go unheard and unsaid, like ableism in society, the daily and not daily struggles of a disabled person, having anorexia nervosa, OCD, what it is like as a victim of rape and their experience, suicide, both active and passive. This fic delves into that deep, and due to that, the angst is a lot, but this is legitimately one of my favourite pieces of artistic work ever. No joke, I went into it and came out wanting to be a better person, lol. Being exposed to such heavy angst when all she's doing is depicting Levi's life can make you think, because this is Levi's life, yes, but this is also someone else's experience. Someone else deals with the shame he experiences just from being disabled — just from existing. Someone else felt the terror of being raped and feels the aftermath of it still, every fucking day of their life. Someone else thinks they're worth nothing if they can provide nothing, because that is what life teaches you sometimes. It's just realistic. Yes, the angst is heavy. But that angst is the normal of someone else's life; they don't have the luxury of choosing not to be exposed, and reading this just helps you be more compassionate about it, I guess, especially since she writes it as it is, as raw and terrible and painful as it is. So, I don't know. It's angsty and depressing and for some people, too much, but for me the depressing nature of it is inspiring, in a sense, instead of down-bringing. Anyway, I've gushed like the biggest goofball all in her comment sections, and now I've gushed here, too, but truly, truly, truly, I think you should give it a shot. She is such a blessing as a writer, and honestly, I recommend every single one of her works to you. I can't articulate how unique and meaningful her writing is.

Well, after that, all I can recommend are my own, as I haven't read much else, haha. It's usually angst, though, I'm a sucker for pain. My only "pairing" is Levi and Hange, who I usually prefer to write sharing an alterous love (Sunshine was an exception because it was for someone else). People interpret it both platonically and romantically, though, so I don't think it's a huge issue. That said...

All That I Want is a short work exploring Hange's exhaustion after becoming commander, and the notion of finding peace and rest in death. I think the thoughts behind it are interesting.

But When It's Me is another short one that follows Levi's explicit infatuation with Hange in an academic alternate universe, specifically the physical attraction part of it. It's angsty because his exposure to rape and the plain disrespect of some people's physical attraction throughout his childhood skew his perspective of his own infatuation.

Circles Around the Sun is my canon-divergent long work, yet to be finished, in which Levi escapes the Underground City at 10 years old. You should probably just click the provided link to see it if you're interested, haha. It's hard to explain. Lmao. But I personally prefer this one over the other two, because the exploration of childhood trauma is way more explicit because in the story, they are children. It's just an exploration of their friendship together, their pure connection and love, and the horrors of the world around them that children should never be made to handle.

And then Waiting for a Light by wbss21 (again) is a short but tragic exploration of Kuchel as a caring yet complicated mother to Levi. I can't explain much because it just is as I said it was, but you should read it. Hurt is another work of hers that follows the time Kenny takes Levi in. You have to read it, I simply don't have the words to express it, haha. As I said before, I just recommend her entire account to you, lmao.

Anyway, thank you for the ask! I hope you check these out, they really are amazing (not mine, I mean, lol).

[7m7n7]

@levi-ackerman-ds

and point when did i *ever* say any of those things 💀 you few mfs are such goddamn idiots all you do is taking whatever cosmicjoke garbage shits out bc youre incapable of forming your own opinion. unlucky for you all that trashbag does is bullshitting to divert from the fact how he writes rape porn where levi gets tortured and is barely different from average erushit. his issue is average erushit doesnt want his ass either bc he doesnt support their delusions and agenda fully so he has to pretend to be nice to you to get support.

big L for you, since you're a selfshipper, this asshole detests you. you would see it yourself how he tries to smear the entire group at any chance, if you werent such a damn pickme lol. this is just one handy example of how he talks about people who actually love levi:

and your "not misogynistic" cosmic calling me a hole??? are you for real? you can just say you have no self respect buttlicking this POS who obviously hates women.

[moonspirit]

💜💜💜SEND THIS TO TEN OTHER BLOGGERS YOU THINK ARE WONDERFUL💜💜💜

Ooohhh thank you so much, that's very kind T___T I hope you're having a good day today!

[the-most-humble-blog]

🧬🔞 You Statistically Shouldn't Exist—and Frankly, It's Weird That You Do 🔥

(Or, How You're an Absurd Statistical Anomaly Who Should Feel Deeply Uncomfortable About Even Breathing Right Now)

📚 FIRST OFF, LET'S CLEAR SOMETHING UP:

Statistically speaking, you shouldn’t exist. No, seriously—not at all.

I know that your high school guidance counselor told you you’re “special” and that the stars aligned just for you, but honestly, your existence is a grotesque, improbable fluke so mathematically unlikely it makes the concept of Santa Claus look realistic.

🧬 ACTUAL NUMBERS TO RUIN YOUR DAY

Scientists estimate your chance of existing is roughly around:

🎲 1 in 400 trillion (Mel Robbins, TEDxSF) That’s the chance of being born—of your parents meeting, your grandparents surviving war, famine, plague, bad sushi, expired gas station shrimp, or countless other “natural selection speedruns.”

💥 Odds of your specific lineage surviving the asteroid that killed the dinosaurs: Effectively 0.00000000000001%. Seriously, T-Rex could’ve wiped out your genetic code before mammals even got a chance.

☄️ The Permian-Triassic extinction event killed 96% of life. (Smithsonian Institution) Every one of your ancestors dodged mass extinction events like your Aunt Sheila dodges paying for brunch. And yet, here you are, munching Cheetos and watching reruns of “The Office” while existential dread softly hums beneath your awareness.

👽 YOU’RE MORE LIKELY TO BE ABDUCTED BY ALIENS THAN TO EXIST RIGHT NOW.

Let’s put your existence in uncomfortable perspective:

👾 Odds of alien life existing somewhere in the observable universe: About 1 in 2 (Drake Equation)

⚡️ Odds of you existing to witness alien life? So slim it's honestly embarrassing—(approximately 0.000000000000000000000000000002%). (Totally Scientific Estimation)

Aliens would have better odds landing directly on your face at this very second than you had of actually existing. Think about that tonight when you're trying to fall asleep.

🦕 BUT WAIT, LET'S GO BACK FURTHER:

Human species survival rate: Pathetically slim.

🦠 Estimated Human Extinction Rate: Around 99.9% of all species ever alive have gone extinct. (National Geographic) You’re breathing air today because every one of your ancestors miraculously dodged annihilation. Like an endless horror-movie franchise, your bloodline somehow survived events intended explicitly to remove you. Congrats, you improbable cosmic cockroach.

🔥 OKAY, LET'S GET EVEN MORE SPECIFIC (AND HORRIFIC):

📌 Odds Your Ancestors Survived These VERY SPECIFIC Horrors:

🐀 The Black Death (1347–1351):

75 million died; Europe lost about half its population (Encyclopedia Britannica). And you’re complaining about traffic?

�� Odds your ancestors survived lethal fungi poisoning? Roughly 1 in 5. (Historical Medical Journal) Someone literally risked a painful death by explosive diarrhea so you could scroll TikTok on your lunch break.

⚔️ The Crusades alone? 3 million dead, approximately 40% of entire regions wiped clean (Medieval History Database). Yet your DNA stubbornly persisted, crawling out of corpses like some grotesque phoenix determined to one day download TikTok.

🧬 "BUT I'M SPECIAL!" WRONG AGAIN.

You’re a 99.9% genetic copy of everyone else walking around (National Human Genome Research Institute). You’re not even a particularly unique biological mistake—you’re a carbon-based meat puppet walking a tightrope of planetary hazards. And you have the nerve to consider yourself an “individual.”

At best, you’re a copy-pasted NPC with slightly unique cosmetic choices, like a bad Skyrim character customization. At worst? You’re just another identical clone in this cosmic petri dish.

⌛️ YOUR EXISTENCE IS TEMPORARY, AND REALITY IS UNSTABLE:

The odds of human civilization collapsing before 2100? Scientists estimate around 49% chance. (Global Challenges Foundation Annual Report)

Odds your entire species survives the next asteroid, solar flare, nuclear war, or “accidental AI oopsie” incident? Grim.

Odds you personally survive even the next 50 years? Shockingly low if you continue doom-scrolling at 3 AM eating microwave nachos. (Personal estimation: extremely likely.)

🕳 YOU SHOULDN’T BE HERE. NEITHER SHOULD I.

The brutal truth: Life is nothing but a statistically improbable accident.

The even worse truth: You aren’t appreciating it enough.

While your ancestors bravely fought predators, plagues, famines, and wars, you’re panic-ordering overpriced lattes and posting selfies with dog filters. They survived mammoths, volcanoes, and bacterial infections without antibiotics. You’re panicking because Starbucks messed up your latte.

Humans spend about 33 years of their lives sleeping. (World Economic Forum) Your ancestors didn’t survive woolly mammoths, ice ages, and black death for you to spend a third of your brief existence unconscious in bed. (But go ahead, hit snooze again. I dare you.)

💡 FINAL LESSON FROM THE SCHOLAMANCE:

Life isn't precious—it’s absurdly improbable.

You, right now, reading this stupid little blog post, exist due to:

Mass extinctions dodged ✅

Multiple catastrophes avoided ✅

Diseases survived through sheer dumb luck ✅

Disasters narrowly escaped ✅

Millions of years of evolutionary trial and error leading directly to your Cheeto-dust-covered fingers

📢 FINAL VERDICT:

The universe went through 13.8 billion years of elaborate accidents to accidentally create you—someone who reads Tumblr posts about existential dread.

You are not special. You are not inevitable. You are the highly improbable, hilarious punchline of cosmic randomness.

You shouldn't exist. But you do. So act accordingly.

Enjoy your meaningless existence, you improbable miracle of chaos.

😈 REBLOG if you're an impossible mistake and proud of it. 💬 COMMENT your favorite existential crisis (mine is waking up every day). 🧟‍♂️ FOLLOW Scholomance Society for more cheerful nihilism.

[starshower1215]

"Still?" That dog is a lap dog.

BIGGG dog still wants to be a lap dog! 😄 Follow me for more gentle giants!

[gesslen]

Als Menschen denken wir vielleicht, dass wir ziemlich 🧠💡🤓 schlau sind, aber seien wir ehrlich – wenn irgendeine fortgeschrittene Spezies da draußen 🤨+🔎=🧐 uns beobachtet hat, hat sie wahrscheinlich einen Blick darauf geworfen und gesagt: „Nein, nicht.“ die 🙄😏🤐 Mühe lohnt sich.“ Ich meine, kann man es ihnen verdenken? Wir haben eine Menge Reality-🔍🌍📺-Fernsehsendungen, Ananas auf Pizza und die ständige 👔💼🗳️-Debatte darüber, ob Toilettenpapier über oder unter gehen sollte. Wenn das das beste Angebot für 💼💰🤝 ist, das wir haben, würde ich es auch nicht eilig haben, 📞🤝✉️ Kontakt aufzunehmen. Außerdem, wer möchte sich schon mit all dem 😱😭🤯 Drama und Chaos im Umgang mit Erdlingen auseinandersetzen? Sie hielten es für sicherer, 🤔🕵️‍♀️🕵️‍♂️ aus der Ferne zu beobachten und uns uns selbst zu überlassen. Können Sie ihnen die Schuld geben?

[manoasha]

Einstein's Hilarious Universe: Exploring Infinite Space and Silly Humans 🚀😄

Imagine Albert Einstein, the super-smart scientist with crazy white hair, sitting on a comfy cosmic couch, sipping on space tea, and dropping this cosmic joke: “Two things are infinite: the universe and human stupidity; and I’m not sure about the universe.” Let’s take a fun trip into Einstein’s funny world, where the universe is a giant giggle factory. Universe vs. Human Quirks 🌌🤪 So, Einstein…

[chishiyasan]

🎄 Send these trees to ten people you wish to have a good holiday and a happy new year!🎄🥰

Thank you! 😊❤️ I hope you had a lovely holiday and that you have a happy new year as well! Wishing you all the best in 2024! 🎄