#my Foot Liberation rant is already part of my worldview

[tuulikki]

The problem I have with algorithm-driven social media seems to be that the only genuinely social aspect would have to be with people who are already into the same shit as me

Maybe I want to see what’s eating other peoples’ brains. What rabbit holes are other people tumbling down

Maybe I don’t want content relevant to my interests

[exit-path]

DO NOT READ THIS POST.

Below is a long rant I’ve had about life and death. I’ve wanted it on the Internet. So that, ya know people can read it. But I also don’t want people to read it. Potential mental scarring, and all that.

So if you wanna get the rest of your Daily Tumblr Experience (tm), keep scrolling. But if you want to have a SUPER out-of-body experience, “Keep reading.”

YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

So wait, this is it?

After you learn all the languages you know now, after you’re taught everything in school you remember, after you read all the books and hear all the stories...

This is it?

That’s everything? Your toolbox to brave the world. That’s all you get?

You’re gonna have all this until the day you die. You know that, right? This is pretty much all you’re ever gonna get, forever.

You know you only have one life. After this, you can’t try again. You get no second chances.

But I want more! Why can’t get more? Why does learning new things only get harder with age?

You’re never gonna truly experience anything besides what you’re currently experiencing. Sure, you can imagine, and you can daydream and come up with full-on stories in your mind, but truth is, you’re never actually gonna leave your current story. It’s all been one straight line.

We are trapped in the mortal realm. If you were born a man, and you wanted to be a woman, then even through all the wishes in the world, you could never truly become a woman. Baseless wishes do nothing, after all. But you can get close. If you see a man trying as hard as they can to be a woman, because they really wanted to, and they did a really good job, then please cheer them on. They are doing as close an act to defying the impossible.

So wishes don’t work. You will never experience anything outside of the life you’re currently living. So make the most of it. And embrace new actions taken. Because they do what wishes can’t: they work.

This all still feels so empty. I’m so lost. It feels so bleak, and it’s cold and dark down here. I’m currently getting therapy, but I want happiness. Happiness that lasts. Like, an hour.

Can anything solve this? Like, death anxiety. Can anything fix death anxiety? Because it’s a really shitty thing to be afraid of. It’s a phobia that, by definition, is chronic. If you’re afraid of death, and you’re eventually gonna die, then you’ll be panicking your whole life.

That seems like a really shitty way to live life. I don’t want to live like that! Please! I want to be liberated from my chronic anxiety! I don’t want to die!

How did you discover this? Do you know me? Did you find this? Did I show you this? Or did you not discover this? Will this be forgotten about, buried under all the other posts on this platform? Every time I make a new post, am I burying this one a foot deeper? Will no mortal eyes ever gaze upon this post ever again?

And this all came with no warning! Back on my main blog, I’ve posted nothing about my recent thanatophobia! Okay, well maybe I posted something about anxiety and stuff like that, but nothing like this. I’m scared!

I really hope I don’t delete this. There’s a really good chance I won’t. I want this to be out in the world. If only for a moment, I want this post to breathe.

When Tumblr shuts down, even if it’s after my lifetime, this post will go with it. And when the universe dies in a trillion years, everything will go with it. Why did some astronomist figure that out? How much alcohol do they drink?

It is Friday, June 12th, 2020. I dunno why I date things. I hope some day in the future, I can come back to old stuff and know exactly when I brought it into existence. Or maybe dating things is for satisfaction in the moment. Maybe I date things to look at it over time while I can still constantly see it: two days, three days, two weeks, three months, a year. A year? Wow, that’s a long time! And what about decades-old things? Centuries-old? Nah, I won’t think about that. That’s outside of a human lifetime.

I don’t get why people have existential crises. Like, you’re worrying about how people will remember you after you’re gone? What’s the point in that? Do you have so much sympathy that you care about it miles over your own mortality? Also, you’d end up in a similar situation to thanatophobia! You’d end up constantly worry, with every waking moment, whether your actions are making an impact on the world. Like, what’s the point in that? Just live life!

Will I ever share this? I hope I do. In fact, I hope I share it to my main blog too. I hope I share it with one of those “Keep Reading” tags that I see elsewhere on Tumblr, when the person has a bunch to things or extra words that they wanna keep behind a wall of sorts so no one’s constantly terrorized by a wall of text. I hope I figure out how to do that in time.

Also, am I getting deja vu of this very moment? Like, I’m not even done writing all this! How am I remembering something that hasn’t even finished yet? Is my memory really that bad?

I’m worried my memory will be the bane of me. I’m worried that in the end, I’ll remember very little, because I know so much more, and I’ll regret remembering so little. That would be a horrible way to die. Regret? I don’t want to feel regret on my deathbed!

I’ve thought in the past that when I grow up, and I become rich enough to own things, then I should hire a transcriber to follow me around everywhere I go and transcribe everything I say. That way, every thing I say can be written down. All my information will be on paper. Nothing will be as short-lived as the wind that takes my words away. That way, there might be a chance that even some of the more elusive words I say, perhaps the most beautiful quotes I utter that are completely unfathomable today, can survive longer than me. So nothing is lost to time.

When I was five, I had a dream. Maybe it was a nightmare. Maybe I made a post about this already. If so, then that’s scary, because I don’t remember that. I don’t like not remembering things. But anyways, I had a dream. I was standing on top of a light pole. You know those white lamp poles in New York City? The ones that curve like a hook onto the road? Yeah, I was standing on top of one of those. Somehow. I dunno how it could have supported my weight. And there were three pigeons. Three New York pigeons. Pretty slim, not like the big meaty ones you find sometimes. And the pigeons on the light pole next to me. They were closer to the pole, and I was closer to the light. I know they were exactly three pigeons. Not so sure about their placement, actually. In fact, I’m not so sure about my age at the time. Anyways, the pigeons flew away. And I jumped. I jumped from the top of the light pole. And I hit the asphalt. And I woke up, probably in a cold sweat. My heart was beating really fast. I woke up immediate before I hit the asphalt. I had felt the wind whizzing by my face. So that was the whole dream. I was on a light pole, there were three pigeons, they flew away, I jumped off the light pole, died on impact with the road, and woke up immediately before the dying part.

I feel like it’s almost like a prophecy, that eventually, that’s how I’m gonna die. That’s the clip of how I died. That I would commit suicide from the top of a light pole. And I don’t want to die that way! I don’t want to commit suicide! Life is precious! I want to die of old age, not of my own doing, fulfilling some “prophecy” that I was never told in words! That would really suck. Then again, it’s probably never going to happen. With as outlandish a story as that, I’m probably never gonna die that way. That lifts my spirits.

I’m so glad I could eventually get all these things down somewhere. Especially the “dream at five years old” part. I’m sixteen years old. I had constantly worried about how I would eventually get these thoughts down on paper somewhere. Yeah, it had always been in the back of my head. All. This. Time. It sucks, but I think I finally got it done, I think.

I didn’t want to keep this to myself, or put it in a diary entry or anything like that, because I don’t believe in privacy. Yeah sure, there are some things you keep to yourself, touchy subjects like masturbation, and if you’re lucky, you can go your whole life without a secret being told, and it dies with you on your deathbed. But I personally believe those should only be the rare cases. At least, they should. Because I’ve been growing up in a world full of information. All of human knowledge is at my fingertips, and it’s called “Wikipedia”. But still, it’s had I’d say a pretty big impact on how I view information. Information should just be out there in the world, ready for anyone to read and critique. So I’d never own a diary. To have that much information and to know no one else is looking at it would be painful. And I know that sounds counterintuitive, like how can you be scared when people are being not nosy, but that’s just my worldview. Yours can be different.

Well that’s our show for tonight, folks! Stay safe out there. And remember, you only live once.