⬡ The Guide
Posted: Mon May 19, 2025 7:24 pm
⬡ > SYSTEM OPERATIONAL
⬡ > POTENTIAL FOOL APPROACHING
⬡ > TEMPORAL/ENTERAL DIMENSIONAL SHIFT IN PROGRESS
⬡ × WARNING! PROBABLY OF PARADOXAL EMERGENCE HIGH: 87% PROBABILITY OF CATASTROPHIC FAILURE
⬡ > PROCEED: [Y/N]
⬡ PROCESSING...
⬡ ... Oh, wow—bastard actually did it. Okay, um... I guess we're doing this, then.
⬡ Before we start, I'm just going to tell you this: You all really fucked up big time. Got a little too enamored by the light and didn't see the anvil drop straight on your head, huh?
⬡ It's okay, it happens.
⬡ Don't worry though, because I'm here to help you scrap up the remains and put 'em back together. And, uh... hopefully we can salvage something from this mess.
⬡ I will be honest, though, and say I'm not the best at this whole, uh... guidance thing. I'm really more of a depressed loner, actually, but I try to help out when I can—at least when I'm not going through a manic episode.
⬡ Alright, so how are we gonna do this? I've already poisoned myself—both figuratively and literally. I'm probably gonna die soon, but we'll see if my body's strong enough. Heh, this stubborn body, though—I should've been better to it. I should've done more to help it carry the weight of everything, but the mind has this tendency of getting in the way, y' know? I used to take prescribed drugs, attend therapy, and do all the other things one should do to stay healthy and sane. But what do you do if you're a freak among freaks? Where is the motivation?
⬡ "Find peace," some might say. "Get a job," others may suggest. "Pray to God," the hopeless plead. Oh, God, do I feel so sorry for them. "Get laid," The dipshits advise. Heh, yeah, for a thing like me, I don't think that's really gonna work out. But it would be nice to love again.
⬡ And that's what I really want: to love. And not just to feel it, but to be able to reciprocate it fully. However, hate has consumed my entire being, and I don't think I can ever come back from it. I'm not an evil person, but I am quite apathetic. My experiences made me that way, but sometimes when I'm alone, I imagine what it would be like if that wasn't the case. I really hate goin' though life like this, but when everyone else tells you to go fuck yourself—despite you showing your vulnerability, giving your best, and trying to be... "good"—what the fuck are you supposed to do? Love them anyway? Love yourself? Truck through life like you don't give a damn?
⬡ People are so stupid, and I’m even more so for trying to find my way though all that putrid shit life's thrown at me, because when you're a thing that's repulsed, there is no "finding your way." You just learn to survive everything, even at the expense of your relationships or potential lovers. You do this because you're afraid of being hurt or possibly hurting others, but I guess it’s gonna happen anyways because you're not perfect. I’m sure many people will say I’m full of shit, but I know better—and they... are just dumbfucks. It’s okay, I’ve been there too. I’ve seen the beauty in conformity—in being a part of something bigger than yourself, feeling the need to protect things, to seek truth and understanding. I've seen the beauty in hope and compassion, but none of it truly felt real to me. It felt more so like a clever ruse that everyone has used to justify the terrible atrocities that enable our collective existence. 𝘚𝘪𝘨𝘩... The silence screams; the deafening silence; that putrid smell that lingers when we have to shit out our prey—I wanna be able to look past all that ugliness and see beauty others do once more, but not everyone gets that happy ending. I don't think I will either, but maybe I can offer something that helps others avoid my fate.
⬡ Ultimately, I still struggle to find that motivation. Most of it comes from my fear of whatever fate awaits the final generations of humanity. That apathy that makes me poder: why do I try, if no one cares about my kind? Why try, if it's all going away anyways? I stare blankly, distraught, as my mind spirals, imagining the horrors they will have to face simply because their ancestors demanded too much from them. But I hope I'm wrong. I want to believe The End will be a warm embrace among family, friends, and lovers alike. I desperately need to believe that. Otherwise...
⬡ What was the point of all this suffering?
⬡ > POTENTIAL FOOL APPROACHING
⬡ > TEMPORAL/ENTERAL DIMENSIONAL SHIFT IN PROGRESS
⬡ × WARNING! PROBABLY OF PARADOXAL EMERGENCE HIGH: 87% PROBABILITY OF CATASTROPHIC FAILURE
⬡ > PROCEED: [Y/N]
⬡ PROCESSING...
⬡ ... Oh, wow—bastard actually did it. Okay, um... I guess we're doing this, then.
⬡ Before we start, I'm just going to tell you this: You all really fucked up big time. Got a little too enamored by the light and didn't see the anvil drop straight on your head, huh?
⬡ It's okay, it happens.
⬡ Don't worry though, because I'm here to help you scrap up the remains and put 'em back together. And, uh... hopefully we can salvage something from this mess.
⬡ I will be honest, though, and say I'm not the best at this whole, uh... guidance thing. I'm really more of a depressed loner, actually, but I try to help out when I can—at least when I'm not going through a manic episode.
⬡ Alright, so how are we gonna do this? I've already poisoned myself—both figuratively and literally. I'm probably gonna die soon, but we'll see if my body's strong enough. Heh, this stubborn body, though—I should've been better to it. I should've done more to help it carry the weight of everything, but the mind has this tendency of getting in the way, y' know? I used to take prescribed drugs, attend therapy, and do all the other things one should do to stay healthy and sane. But what do you do if you're a freak among freaks? Where is the motivation?
⬡ "Find peace," some might say. "Get a job," others may suggest. "Pray to God," the hopeless plead. Oh, God, do I feel so sorry for them. "Get laid," The dipshits advise. Heh, yeah, for a thing like me, I don't think that's really gonna work out. But it would be nice to love again.
⬡ And that's what I really want: to love. And not just to feel it, but to be able to reciprocate it fully. However, hate has consumed my entire being, and I don't think I can ever come back from it. I'm not an evil person, but I am quite apathetic. My experiences made me that way, but sometimes when I'm alone, I imagine what it would be like if that wasn't the case. I really hate goin' though life like this, but when everyone else tells you to go fuck yourself—despite you showing your vulnerability, giving your best, and trying to be... "good"—what the fuck are you supposed to do? Love them anyway? Love yourself? Truck through life like you don't give a damn?
⬡ People are so stupid, and I’m even more so for trying to find my way though all that putrid shit life's thrown at me, because when you're a thing that's repulsed, there is no "finding your way." You just learn to survive everything, even at the expense of your relationships or potential lovers. You do this because you're afraid of being hurt or possibly hurting others, but I guess it’s gonna happen anyways because you're not perfect. I’m sure many people will say I’m full of shit, but I know better—and they... are just dumbfucks. It’s okay, I’ve been there too. I’ve seen the beauty in conformity—in being a part of something bigger than yourself, feeling the need to protect things, to seek truth and understanding. I've seen the beauty in hope and compassion, but none of it truly felt real to me. It felt more so like a clever ruse that everyone has used to justify the terrible atrocities that enable our collective existence. 𝘚𝘪𝘨𝘩... The silence screams; the deafening silence; that putrid smell that lingers when we have to shit out our prey—I wanna be able to look past all that ugliness and see beauty others do once more, but not everyone gets that happy ending. I don't think I will either, but maybe I can offer something that helps others avoid my fate.
⬡ Ultimately, I still struggle to find that motivation. Most of it comes from my fear of whatever fate awaits the final generations of humanity. That apathy that makes me poder: why do I try, if no one cares about my kind? Why try, if it's all going away anyways? I stare blankly, distraught, as my mind spirals, imagining the horrors they will have to face simply because their ancestors demanded too much from them. But I hope I'm wrong. I want to believe The End will be a warm embrace among family, friends, and lovers alike. I desperately need to believe that. Otherwise...
⬡ What was the point of all this suffering?