• SCmSTR@lemmy.blahaj.zoneEnglish
    1·
    1 hour ago

    For the past three, maybe 5 or 6 years. But for at least the entirety of 2025.

    I don’t want to feel this way. I do everything I can to not feel this way. But, there’s an elephant of a dark cloud hovering overhead that no matter how much I try to bounce, still brings me back.

    It’s fascism.

    It makes me think about death and what it’s like to not exist. I can’t stand the thought of never existing again. Obviously, I won’t have the ability to care once I die. But it just seems like there should be something I can do to not or to prolong it at least until I’ve achieved my goals. I know that’s unrealistic and not how it works, but that’s so insanely frustrating. That, one day, this very thing that I’m doing right now, thinking, imagining, writing… Will cease. Me, as it were, just, won’t. My thoughts, my feelings, my memories, my hopes, my passions, my perspectives, my ideas, my collections, my efforts. Wiped, never to be seen again.

    And then if you can, imagine that, but for everybody that exists right now. They will all die, sooner or later. There’s so much loss. So much destruction of consciousness and creativity.

    I know this is probably different for people who have or will have children. But I don’t and probably won’t, and so my perspective is somewhat more finite. My legacy can’t be fulfilled or sated by such an easy route, so my thoughts are driven to my own goals and limits.

    An ex of mine and I were talking about this, and he half jokingly said that he will never die and “he” extended far past his body, meaning that his influence and values and things that he consider part of him live longer than his body. Men can be so goddamned irritating sometimes. Because, sure, that’s definitely a valid way to look at it, especially when you’re as self centered and full of yourself as him. But, when it comes down to it, I only see that as a way to cope with one’s own mortality.

    Maybe he’s right, though. But maybe, I hate the idea of my awareness and consciousness suddenly not existing. I always thought there’d be more than enough time…

    I’m too young to be worrying about this stuff. I just wanna live my life and go out into the rain and be successful and travel and live in a polycule and invent stuff and make music and go hiking and make food have a career and a family and friends and neat hobbies and SLOWLY get older. NOT deal with fascism.

    Why did it have to be fascism?