Everything is burning; your tongue, your skin, behind your eyes. The world around you. And what if you burned it down to the ground? What if it was swathed in the hot reds and scorching yellows?
What if you did?
They tell you to calm down. They tell you to stop. They tell you they can help you, that you all can talk it out.
But you tried talking. So many times. You compromised for far too long. You tolerated their every behavior in the name of righteousness like another slap to the face. But they never listened. Not a word. So you bit down on your tongue until you could taste the iron tang of blood in your mouth. Until your jaw hurt and your teeth clicked together with a sickening, gut wrenching sound.
So you tolerate and take it in and take it in again until it fills you to the brim, until you can’t take it in anymore. Because it wants out now. Like an all consuming fire that cannot be tamed, cannot be held back, cannot be extinguished till all else has felt its simmering wrath. Until all else has had a taste of what it’s like to be touched by true fire.
To be burned.
But they can never hope to begin to understand what you feel. They recoil in terror when the fire merely touches them on the skin, but you; you hold it in. You have held it in everyday since forever. It burned you and melt you and then reshaped you into something else entirely. Maybe that’s why you’re so different from them.
It’s not so bad though, is it? After all, it is said that fire is cleansing.
“You are clean.” You tell yourself as the world burns around you.
“Cleaner than they can ever hope to be.” You tell yourself as your clenched fists tremble, your body shakes, your heart wants to break out of your ribs.
“Then why am I the one always suffering?” You ask yourself, your voice barely choking the words out through your tight throat. Tears burn your cheeks. And you’re sitting in the aftermath of the fire that burst free of the cages and ravaged at everything you had so carefully built through endless pain. And now all that you had built is falling around you in the form of cinders and ashes.
Because of the fire. Because it lashed out at the last straw. Because it’s a living thing that cannot be controlled.
And now you’re sitting in cold exhaustion on the lonely tiles of your dark room—in all the world, again—alone.
No.
That’s not right.
You’ve never been alone. Not really.
You’ve had the fire. It’s always been there. It warmed you when you felt ice cold, it fought for you when you couldn’t fight anymore. Through everything, it’s never once left you. Not like the others had.
Now it’s all you have. So what if you fed it? What if you gave it what it wanted? What if you gave it the whole world? It deserves the whole world.
It deserves you. And you deserve the fire.
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thinking about ancient burial rituals again
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I am. Mentally very low right now
Sibling just talked to me about having thoughts of self harm. And has nearly had a panic attack in front of me twice. And is still crying.
And I cannot leave this because I share a room with them. And I care so much but I cannot fix anything. I feel helpless.
And this compounded with everything else is making me just really feel like I am just going to disassociate
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Does anyone else feel like things are moving too fast and youre not in the spirt of holidays and then when you are in the spirt its all past you by so all you can do is hope you catch up and by next year you feel better and can celebrate everything?
Yes im fine why do you ask?
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I low-key love the fact that sci-fi has so conditioned us to expect to be hanging out with a bunch of cool space aliens, that legitimate, actual scientists keep proposing the most bizarre, three-blunts-into-the-rotation "theories" to explain the fact we're not.
Some of my favourites include:
Zoo Theory: What if there are loads of aliens out there, but they're not talking to us because of the Prime Directive from Star Trek? (Or because they're doing experiments on us???)
Dark Forest Theory: What if there are loads of aliens out there, but they all hate us and each other so they're all just waiting with a shotgun pointed at the door, ready to open fire on anything that moves?
Planetarium Theory: What if there's at least one alien with mastery over light and matter that's just making it seem to us that the universe is empty to us as, like, a joke?
Berserker Theory: What if there were loads of aliens, but one of them made infinite killer robots that murdered everyone and are coming for us next?!!
Like, the universe is at least 13,700,000,000 years old and 46,000,000,000 light years big. We have had the ability to transmit and receive signals for, what, 100 years, and our signals have so far travelled 200 light years?
The fact is biological life almost certainly has, does, or will develop elsewhere in the universe, and it's not impossible that a tiny amount of it has, does, or will develop in a way that we would understand as "intelligent". But, like, we're realistically never going to know because of the scale of the things involved.
So I'm proposing my own hypothesis. I call it the "Fool in a Field" hypothesis. It goes like this:
Humanity is a guy standing in the middle of a field at midnight. It's pitch black, he can't move, and he's been standing there for ages. He's just had the thought to swing his arms. He swings one of his arms, once, and does not hit another person. "Oh no!" He says. "Robots have killed them all!"
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