My mind is being riddled with the wrong memory

As a rule, anyone desirous of an audience, or even a place in society, might profit from the following motto: “If you can’t say
something positive about humanity, then say something equivocal.”

Thomas Ligotti, The Conspiracy against the Human Race

Perhaps all humans are lonely, at least potentially.

-Kazuo Ishiguro, Klara and the sun

“Everything tears away at everything else ... forever. Yet all this commotion in nothingness goes unnoticed by nearly everything involved in it.”

Thomas Ligotti, The Conspiracy against the Human Race

“For better or worse, pessimism without compromise lacks public appeal. In all, the few who have gone to the pains of arguing for a sullen appraisal of life might as well never have been born. As history confirms, people will change their minds about almost anything, from which god they worship to how they style their hair. But when it comes to existential judgments, human beings in general have an unfalteringly good opinion of themselves and their condition in this world and are steadfastly confident they are not a collection of self- conscious nothings.”

Thomas Ligotti, The Conspiracy against the Human Race

I'm kinda ashamed to say this but i do care a A lot
Sometimes it all feels like a performance even the things that i do for my own self when I'm fucking alone

In the act of longing for things that are gone and yet to come, I am half agony, half hope.

I love being called a nerd, makes me feel giddy

It’s like saying: “I want them to see what’s possible, because I did it first.”

Bear with me man I lost my train of thought

I'm doing physics again and I don't understand shite

Word of the day

Monologophobia

Good day
Oli

Forget using Spotify to play my favourite albums
My bad girl can do it ten times better

We heard the Piledriver Waltz

“Why don’t I commit suicide? Because I am as sick of death as I am of life. I should be cast into a flaming cauldron! Why am I on this earth? I feel the need to cry out, to utter a savage scream that will set the world atremble with dread. I am like a lightning bolt ready to set the world ablaze and swallow it all in the flames of my nothingness. I am the most monstrous being in history, the beast of the apocalypse full of fire and darkness, of aspirations and despair. I am the beast with a contorted grin, contracting down to illusion and dilating toward infinity, both growing and dying, delightfully suspended between hope for nothing and despair of everything, brought up among perfumes and poisons, consumed with love and hatred, killed by lights and shadows. My symbol is the death of light and the flame of death. Sparks die in me only to be reborn as thunder and lightning. Darkness itself glows in me.”

Emil Cioran, On the Heights of Despair