Existentialcrisis Stories

Ek normal subah... par shehar normal nahi lagta. Sadkein khaali, awaazein gayab. Aur har kadam ke saath badhta hua sannata.

Existential crisis go brr

Vitya lives in a world where time is shifting sand and silence is the only faithful companion. To wake up in an empty apartment, catch the scent of someone else's perfume, and rush to the square, knowing you're already late. But late for what? The desire to change the past has long been replaced by a desperate attempt to simply preserve it.

Things I think about at 1am. suffer with me.

As humans we all have darker sides to ourselves that we don't wish to explore or show. By writing about them I try to to accept these sides of myself that I have long repressed. Cover picture designed by @Tousledlives the cover picture belongs to the original artist.

Boys were made to make girls cry. I believed in that. Or I thought I did. Then I made the mistake of disagreeing with the truth-Icarus flying too close to the sun because I'm a rebel for kicks kind of person- and here I am, heart in so many pieces I am having an aneurysm figuring out just how I would put it together. Oh no, not to fall in love again. II only want to become a normal functioning human being, you know the type that arrives at her workplace at nine in the morning, chirpy and bright, her smile causing the others to smile as well... Not the other one. Oh you must have felt this way. Seeing someone else happy and needing to barf or better, cry in the janitor's closet for how miserable your life is. As my friend Yuri says, I have a tendency to get carried away. And talk, like a lot. Yuri is glaring at me now. I asked her to see what I'm writing and-Oh, she's giving me the 'death stare'. Jesus, that girl needs an exorcist. Shit shit shit. I'm late for work. Again. That'll kick me out for sure now. Or not. I'm the only one who knows how to operate that Abraham Lincoln era coffee machine, so they'd rather have me just for that. Still, I think I should go... I'm running out of words to write. And time. Though I don't think the latter is as important.

This is a book of poems that ive write and will continue on writing. There is alot of punctuation errors so yeah... I hope you enjoy these saddening righting tidbits that will make you rethink your life. Because I sure did

here i begin the journey to the poetic world along with my poems, a few anecdotes about life

Tinky Winky, one of the Teletubbies, begins to experience strange and unsettling feelings that he can't explain. As he tries to make sense of what's happening to him, he is drawn into a world of dark secrets and hidden truths, where nothing is as it seems. Along the way, Tinky Winky must confront his own fears and doubts, and make choices that will determine the fate of his world and those he loves. Will he be able to find his way back to the light, or will he be consumed by the darkness that surrounds him?

Moonflower Faerie has guarded the dream realm for as long as she can remember. It would be nice to have a little company, but her duty calls for her to remain solitary. (Maybe, if she'd have accepted his offer, it wouldn't be so lonely anymore.) Or, Moonflower Faerie and her want for more. (Cross-posted on Ao3)

The Weight of Being light is a harrowing exploration of a man whose unwavering kindness becomes the very thing that destroys him. Daniel Mercer gives endlessly-to his ungrateful family, his selfish friends, and a society that sees him as expendable. Despite his resilience, the weight of betrayal, loneliness, and unmet expectations crushes his spirit. This tragedy forces readers to confront uncomfortable truths about exploitation, emotional neglect, and the silent suffering of those who are too good for this world.

Whatever is going through my head, here you go! Just random, crazy thoughts made by yours truly.

'My imagination is only an open door in my dreams... It's an endless foreshadow, but I'm always eager for what my resting state of mind brings me.' Hope you enjoy :) This will be a full book- rather than a short story this time. Be patient with me- I'm going to be updating this weekly- on Fridays, 8:30 PM. (CST)

A place I call home.

A Poem that describes my Fear of Death. Not that Death is depressing or painful, but that Death is Existentially Dreadful. I can't imagine what it would be like to just literally vanish after dying or to live for infinite years. It's too much for my Mind to handle.

Between not knowing he was into men and denial he hadn't quite figured out why he felt a magnetic pull towards the Russian mafioso. The Russian mafioso who was supposed to be dead. Can absolutely be read as a stand-alone! A little fic on how Matt and Vlad got together in the "The Harley Keener Complex" series

What is freedom? I guess we will never know.

IN THE NAME OF THE MOON! I WILL PUNISH YOU! - basically me having a mental breakdown or me screaming about life-

just like the title says, this is an array of angsty poems that I've written. it'll probably make you barf, but that's okay 'cause it made me barf, too. (they also read very weirdly and I tend to switch persons, so bear with me.) hope ya like it! (or not!)

just me asking myself a lot of weird question without answers...?