Not a day goes by that I’m not at some point taken out of life by thinking about my own existence, and the existence of the world around me. They’re not even particularly deep thoughts, in fact most of the time they’re so abstract their hard to put into words. I’m often forced to phrase these questions as “Why am I me? Why is my consciousness locked inside of my body and lifespan, and of all of the possible lives it could’ve been bond to why mine?” and “Why is the world locked in this specific singular state of affairs?” Is this abnormal? Is this unhealthy?
Recently, In order to be able to discuss it without being seen as a kook I’ve started framing it as an effect of getting stoned, but while getting high makes it worse, the thoughts go all the way back to my childhood.
Posting this here instead of talking to a therapist or some gay shit because psychology is the work of the antichrist.
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I had my first kid when i was about 21 and let me tell you if that wasnt the most serious kick in the butt about where and what i am in this universe then i dont know what is.
Days went from being blended together and me not knowing whether it was monday or friday to literally almost every day i see a physical clock infront of me reminding me that i am only getting older snd nothing can stop that but i need to enjoy the time that i'm here for both myself and my little ones.
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