#existentialvibes

[theyuniversity]

🌑 Word of the Day: BANE

bane (n.): something that causes misery, distress, ruin, or death.

from Old English bana, meaning “killer, slayer, destroyer.”

Heavy, huh?

✨ Example usage:

“Procrastination is the bane of my existence.”

“She was beautiful—the kind of beautiful that becomes your bane before your blessing.” Some words don’t just sound like what they mean, they feel it.

Bane tastes bitter in the mouth. It wears black eyeliner. It texts you at 2 a.m. and says “you up?” It’s that thing you keep letting back in even when you know better. Your favorite heartbreak. Your soft spot. Your undoing. And yet—we romanticize our banes. We give them poetry. We call them muses. We let them burn us and then write sonnets by the light of the flame. 😔🔥

Website | Twitter |  Instagram | Medium | Pinterest

[glitchpetri]

“Ever felt like a soul trapped inside someone else’s code?” 👁‍🗨💀💾

I don't like this body I'm trapped in. I don't like this system. I don't like the person it made me become.

We're not broken. We're misconfigured. And if you’ve ever felt like a glitched soul in a perfect machine — this is your signal.

🌀 Dive into the glitch. You’ll understand why you never felt “real”… 👉 Decode the message here

[djeneziris-moon]

Fear

We humans fear such simple things.

Fear of our own feelings —

fear of being rejected,

fear of being hurt.

But why? What is this cursed fear?

The world can collapse at any moment,

and yet we worry

whether we’ll be accepted.

No! Live for the moment.

Learn from pain, from falling.

Learn from fear —

and turn it into freedom.

🌸D.M🥀🌞

[ejaydoeshisbest]

To be born with some privilege in a third-world country is a miracle.

Thought #1 To be born with some privilege in a third-world country is a miracle. Not a day has passed since I was not aware of that. Yes, I complain. I bitch and moan about my chronic pain. Yes, I’m deformed and dramatic about it—but I still whisper gratitude each time I eat. There is food on my table. I have more than most. Every good thing that comes knocking feels like a divine favor.

Thought #2 At 30, I’m stepping forward, stepping back, standing still, stumbling, flying, thriving—all within the same day. I feel fragile and invincible, afraid and bold. I now have access to the things I once only dreamed of… yet I hesitate to touch them. I’ve learned I can cause order. I can cause chaos. I recognize my impact on others, and the weight that comes with growing older. I matter. And I don’t. That strange duality humbles me—sometimes enough to surrender to a higher power, other times to the crushing weight of simply existing.

Thought #3 Airplanes are glorious machines slicing through thick clouds. They remind me that there’s a life in motion somewhere else. I lift my arms again, pretending to soar. Some afternoons, I fold paper planes, casting them into the wind like spores from a mushroom. Maybe one tiny part of me will land in a place I’ve never been and make something of itself. Maybe one will grow where I couldn’t.

Thought #4 Some days, I feel like a potted plant, content to simply be, watching the world turn while dawn and dusk play across my leaves. Some days, I feel stranded, stuck tending to the fruits of someone else’s labor. I have made something of myself, I guess, but I feel like it still is not enough, and I acknowledge that that kind of thinking is stupid. I look up at the sky, see a plane cutting through the clouds, and I raise my arms. I pretend to fly, to flee, to uproot myself and take root in foreign soil, grazing in greener pastures far from here.

Thought # 5 By this point in my life, I’ve worn many suits to fool myself and others into thinking I’ve got my shit together, to camouflage my competency. I’ve juggled too many hats. My closet overflows with these disguises. The pile is suffocating the version of me I’ve buried beneath it all. It is time for a decluttering.

Thought #6 Sometimes I find myself sipping black coffee in a cafe, typing words on a computer that somehow earns money. Look at me, doing adult things in adult clothes with adult accessories and adult responsibilities. But when I look in the mirror, I see a boy in grown-up clothes holding a Pokéball full of childhood dreams. I feel trapped in the knot of all my intertwining decisions leading to different paths. I am getting older without committing to one. I still dance in my underwear when no one’s watching. I imagine myself in tall grass by a mountain lake, watching dragonflies dance and duel. I think I’ll still be that boy at 50. Please let me still be that boy even at 50.

Thought #7 The bad parts of me have worsened. I try to keep them in check. The good parts I reserve for myself and for the few I trust and adore. I’ve made peace with putting myself first. Call it selfishness. I call it self-preservation. No shame in that. I’ve finally gotten good at being good to myself.

Thought #8 One thing has stayed the same throughout all the mess and motion: I feel my best when I’m alone.

Words: Ejay Diwas

[orbitingreality]

Soul Static

My heart beats but only echoes through wires. I’m alive like an old radio— crackling but never clear.

[talesfromwales]

We exist in fragments, in fleeting moments, in half-finished conversations.

#poetic #blackandwhiteaesthetic #deepthoughts #indiegrunge #liminalspaces #melancholy #softnostalgia #lostintranslation #dreamlike #fleetingmoments #cinematicsoul #existentialvibes #monochrome #sadcore #moodyphotography #ephemeral #latenightthoughts #aestheticloneliness #nostalgicgrunge #quietchaos #introspective #fragmentedmemories

[aweisz]

It's not just about meeting someone; it's about this crazy, never-ending quest for connection, even in a universe that sometimes feels totally indifferent. 🌌💫 #ExistentialVibes

the emojis and hashtag are killing me

[animau6]

when is my brain gonna stop being a baby waiting for GoOd feeLINgs and coOL experiences to do literally anything. im still breathing but is it AwESOme and giving me an ADReNaLiNE rush?

[djeneziris-moon]

The Street Lamp

I walked down a dark street,

only a few lamps still glowing,

and in my head —

it felt like a desert.

At the end of the road,

I noticed one —

a worn-out lamp,

barely flickering.

So tired

from shining every day,

trying to light the street —

but now it was giving up.

It fought so hard

to shine brighter,

but couldn’t...

and faded out.

Yet in the darkness,

something warm remained —

a memory

that once, it shone.💡

🌸D.M❤️‍🔥🪻🥀