#existential | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

incognitopolls · 4 months

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We ask your questions so you don’t have to! Submit your questions to have them posted anonymously as polls.

#polls #incognito polls #anonymous #tumblr polls #tumblr users #questions #existential #brain #soul #polls about people

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theycantalk · 17 days

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awake

#frog #bullfrog #comic #webcomic #existential #theycantalk #jimmycraig

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sighcomics · 1 year

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a summer odyssey

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euclideanmare · 1 year

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#weirdcore #strangecore #oddcore #nostalgiacore #nostalgia #dereality #unreality #eerie #forest #existential #old web #old web edit #old web aesthetic #old internet #euclideanedit

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ytilaremehpe-sselhtaed · 2 years

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3 AM THOUGHTS

Jonah Calinawan, Rising / Edvard Munch, Evening on Karl Johan Street / Holly Warburton, A Face in the Crowd / Kaye Donachie, Exhibition at Maureen Paley / Edvard Munch, Melancholy / Excerpts: x, x, x, x, x, x.

#consciousness #existential #corecore #dark academia #mental health #derealization #ytilaremehpe-sselhtaed

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courtingwonder · 1 year

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Which side are you on?

#philosophy #absurdism #nihilism #meaning #existentialism #existential #psychology #spirituality #metaphysics #life

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futilereality · 7 months

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#nightmare #hell #existence #existential #dread

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audhd-space · 1 year

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“existential depression” is what I used to call myself having before knowing what autism is

something about existing that feels alienating, and there’s a type of blackhole loneliness from not being able to communicate feeling estranged all the time

it isn’t a dread, it isn’t a crisis, it sorta just a bleak outlook on existence

#neurodivergent #autism #existential #actually autistic

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sinligh · 1 year

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High fences of realization built on the liquid like foundation of my murky soul.

My desire for love when kept untouched grew into resentment towards myself.

Soothed only by the hands of death on the base of my spine stitching me back together I, her only leftover with words of comfort.

"Life goes on". Is its construction mantra.

Out of deaths lips its arbitrary, a stolen promise; like all the souls that it deemed unfit to be renovated.

The hand of death on the base of my spine, on the back of my neck

it grounds me; I find comfort in it.

the way it caress me so lovingly, a threat of a postpartum psychotic mother to an oblivious child.

Death was never particularly appealing to me, it’s the thought of not existing

not now, not in the past, nor the future. to never be, with no trace whatsoever.

To cease to exist all together With no leftovers, nor broken lovers.

It’s not a constant desire, more of a lure, a forbidden love. A slow burn romance with a happy ending

One that I’ll never reach out to willingly but if it ever reached out to me then I know for sure that I’m not strong enough to reject it.

Because life loses its colors from time to time…

And that leaves me, like a person suffering from aphasia. I lose the ability to understand the point of it all…

I try hard to redefine everything, yet, I can’t express it not even when I reach for a semi-stable ground with all my words.

sensitive, i let life play me like an instrument, so responsive.

i increase the tone of whatever melody goes through me..

do it so i hurt anyone who loves me enough to listen. And because I can’t just fade…. And because I don’t have the upper hand…. I make sure to leave my mark, I make sure I have a way to I leave.

And then I choose not to.