Abort!
Orange is objectively the best color.
- Jan 3, 2026
- 78
Fear of the unknown.
Even when I can logically assess that death is an inevitable process, and that nothing I do here likely matters nor changes the outcome of whatever post-death state persists, I still cannot shake the feeling that something even worse may very well await me on the other side of that door.
What if I am reborn as an even worse life form on an even worse planet for example? I can run what-ifs all day long on the probability of these outcomes. I'm probably just projecting my fears into the void at this point, but why would reincarnation be an exception from the cruelty reality produces?
I've always had shit luck to begin with, so I'm not terribly keen on putting it above reality to not put me through an even worse form of suffering. Even if I know I'm rather insignificant in reality, why would reality be inclined to show me any mercy? How do you overcome that fear? I'm well aware that nobody truly knows what happens afterwards of course. Reincarnation is just one interpretation, but it's one that feels the most systematically probalistic to me.
I'm almost at the point where the risk-reward ratio makes the risk worthwhile. This place really feels like a prison planet. And yet I cannot shake the fear that knowing my death is imminent produces. Some days, my survival instinct is worse than on others. Some days I simply don't care. Regardless, I truly hope I can gain the courage to leave with my method soon.
Sometimes I'll reorient myself and become consciously aware I'm experiencing reality from a first person perspective and it gives me existential vertigo. It trips me out. Life is a glitch. It seems we are impossible anomalies. How does one come to terms with any of this shit? I just want to cry at this point.
Even when I can logically assess that death is an inevitable process, and that nothing I do here likely matters nor changes the outcome of whatever post-death state persists, I still cannot shake the feeling that something even worse may very well await me on the other side of that door.
What if I am reborn as an even worse life form on an even worse planet for example? I can run what-ifs all day long on the probability of these outcomes. I'm probably just projecting my fears into the void at this point, but why would reincarnation be an exception from the cruelty reality produces?
I've always had shit luck to begin with, so I'm not terribly keen on putting it above reality to not put me through an even worse form of suffering. Even if I know I'm rather insignificant in reality, why would reality be inclined to show me any mercy? How do you overcome that fear? I'm well aware that nobody truly knows what happens afterwards of course. Reincarnation is just one interpretation, but it's one that feels the most systematically probalistic to me.
I'm almost at the point where the risk-reward ratio makes the risk worthwhile. This place really feels like a prison planet. And yet I cannot shake the fear that knowing my death is imminent produces. Some days, my survival instinct is worse than on others. Some days I simply don't care. Regardless, I truly hope I can gain the courage to leave with my method soon.
Sometimes I'll reorient myself and become consciously aware I'm experiencing reality from a first person perspective and it gives me existential vertigo. It trips me out. Life is a glitch. It seems we are impossible anomalies. How does one come to terms with any of this shit? I just want to cry at this point.
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