#human existence

[threespringspoet]

Life happens twice to us, words by: @thesanitysipper

[deepdiveastro]

[descentintoentropy]

[jareckiworld]

Paco Pomet — “Strider” (oil on canvas, 2025)

[mistplaced-thoughts]

your existence in itself is the most unique experience you can have.

[after-thought]

A thing that f*#ked me up this week... I watched a documentary focused on recent Hubble telescope photos of many new galaxies both older and more complex than previous thought possible. It turns everything we thought to know about our universe and how it was created on its head. It made a very articulate argument that this points to the conclusion that our universe exists within a black hole... We exist in a bubble beyond the event horizon of a black hole within a larger universe.

I feel some kind of powerful way about this that I can't quite parse.

Grief, maybe. Dreadful knowing. Immeasurable loneliness.

We are the aftermath of destruction of everything. Cut off. Sealed beneath a scar in fabric of the real universe. We are a festering wound. Unable to be seen - reached - beyond that membrane. Our begining arose from a horrific ending. Made from the scattered ashes of crushed universes - torn apart molecule by molecular to be our building blocks. Their tragedy is our birth.

I have sat in night and stared at stars and imagined it to be freedom - the false lid of a perfect sky of daytime removed to reveal the truth - an endless vast expanse of possibility. Yet, it is a jar inside a jar. We cannot even begin to imagine the truth of the world beyond our bubble.

It makes a kind of sense when even birth is an act of violence - tearing of flesh and breaking of bone - and we had no say in it but still our existence is insistent on it. Never free of the violence.

To eat... I heard even mushrooms scream in their own way - warning vast networks when we pluck them. Yet we can't exist but through consumption - destroying to sustain.

Of course we are a black hole. Of course we are.

[drrbea]

i never felt like i really belonged in this reality

like something always separated me from everyone