Phylosophy - Blog Posts

so, i came back to tumblr, after all! weird to be here, i've disappeared almost everywhere, the queen of ghosting. it was for a good reason. i've been dealing with a long period of crisis, gave up 2 semesters at uni, been stuck in my bed 23h/day (not a hyperbole). finally, i feel like coming back here.

in this whole period, i haven't done too much. couldn't read, watched not so many movies/tv shows, but i did listen to a bunch of music. that kept me a bit less depressed.

i feel like i have something inside of me that is trying too hard to get out, but i don't know how to do it; it's a feeling of creation. only a few people actually feel this, like they need to create something, to put it out, but haven't found a way yet. it's stuck, and it's a whole interwork.

AND altho i know that not many people follow me, neither know who i am or whatever, but to anybody reading this and going through something bad, i hope you get better. focus on your health. it'll pass, doesn't matter when, just be strong and keep fighting. this isn't a coaching shit or self-help bad book, but for experience of someone who's dealing with way too much. everyday is a new day to begin again, until you get it.

have a really muthafuckin great day, guys. much love to you. (that's for the 2 people maybe reading this lmfao thank you for being here) 🌧🤍

this ad wants to hire philosophy specialists to train their AI.

in philosophy.

they want to train the machine that can't think on the subject that's literally thinking about thinking.

someone smarter than me write in the comments how the classical philosophers are freaking out in the afterlife

(diogenes brandishing a texting autocomplete feature: Behold, a man!)

ALTER EGO

Another game! I honestly thought Es was a man, but then I went to look fanarts and I realized she was a woman. Anyway, the drawing is mine, I do it as I wish.

I’m also playing other game besides this, and why are they always black-and-white with minor colorful details? Is it easier to paint?

Controlled Opposition: A Theory

In Zen circles, people say: "Before I became a practitioner, I saw mountain as mountains and rivers as rivers. When I began to practice, I no longer saw mountain as mountains and rivers as rivers; I began to see their interbeing nature. After I atttained the Path, I again saw mountain as mountains and rivers as rivers, but now my view is clearer, my understanding is brighter. I'm no longer caught in the view that the mountain is only the mountain and the river is only the river. Now I really see them, I see their true nature."

Thich Nhat Hanh, Zen Battles: Modern Commentary on the Teachings of Master Linji

“Always go too far, because that's where you'll find the truth.” — Albert Camus

O Nascimento da Tragédia, F. Nietzsche

Lacrimosa

A short story about a dystopian and post-apocalyptic future, a red sea and devastated sky, saturated in solitude, a protagonist wondering why all this.

The reason for that creature that she baptized as "the final angel" was there, the reflection of human errors made flesh and bone.

tw: philosophical crises, post-apocalyptic world, the main character questions existence, religion.

Year [Unreadable... The number is corrupted...] Date [Corrupted] Time [Corrupted] Location [Imprecise]

The sky is red, and the water looks like pure wine.

There were no signs of life; it's been a long time since I last saw a dog, a fish, a bird, or even an insect. Everything seemed to have vanished.

The only things left were cities flooded with red water, destroyed and submerged cities, scarce patches of dry land that could be found.

And if there was still a part of the land that the water hadn't destroyed yet, those things would do it – those tornadoes coming straight from the sky that seemed to have a life of their own, knowing exactly when to appear. They would destroy whatever was left there, and the land that couldn't be submerged was dry, as dry as a desert.

Sheets of metal abandoned in those deserts, the catastrophe of Black Sunday, it could have been avoided, but they chose this, they chose to condemn us all. Those who were supposed to protect us used us as lab rats.

Only solitude and pain were left behind.

The strong wind from the whirlwinds, gently tugging at the tail of my scarf, the pull of my hair being drawn by the wind. I watch as once again, those whirlwinds sweep through.

All I could do was watch, what else can I do besides crying?

There was nothing else to do, all hope was gone. Was there even hope to begin with? Was there ever hope from the start?

God, are you there? Do we even matter to you? I can guess not, you don't even exist, you're not real.

Just an invention of humanity to give an origin to our existence.

And if you ever were real, God, then you hated us

Hatred, I feel hatred for that nonexistent being, hatred for those who condemned us, hatred for this civilization that sealed its own end. Words will never be enough to express all the hatred I feel right now, there are no words to explain the hatred I feel every attosecond.

When the whirlwind finally disappears, I can see the hole in the clouds, the red sky rumbling, strange cables slowly emerge from the cloud hole, slowly approaching the earth; or perhaps from my point of view, they move slowly. They slowly pierce through the dry earth, I don't know if they simply "connected" or if they are drilling into the interior of the earth. Perhaps it's responsible for the deserts?

A white light illuminates from above down to the cables until the light finally fades upon reaching the earth.

Perhaps hours passed or maybe minutes, I couldn't say, I haven't seen the sun for a long time, its brightness and warmth overshadowed by the reddish sky.

By the time the light disappeared, the cables slowly moved away and returned to the sky, the clouds closed, and the tornadoes disappeared.

Descending from the large stone tube, the sound of my worn-out boots against the dry ground, with each step, the sound of the earth crawling could be heard.

Now I knew what those cables were doing, they were drills, drilling into the earth for reasons unknown to me, but at this point, it was the last thing or perhaps absolutely nothing that mattered to me.

I still remember, I remember the day, Black Sunday.

I was at school when it happened, suddenly the sky lit up in pure white blinding us and then the sky turned red, the ground shook, and a strong dust cloud that wiped out houses was approaching us, and large pillars of light rose behind, we didn't have time to react when it hit, the screams, their bodies imploded and so did mine, cascades of blood and the remains of clothing and bone left behind.

When I opened my eyes again, I only saw a large sphere with different colors, I was part of that, and we were being sucked into a black hole that seemed to come out of something white.

I don't remember what happened in there or what happened outside for us to escape, sometimes, I see those lights again. It took me a while to realize that those spherical lights were the remains of what was once the physical form of a human being, that's how I used to be before, my body had been destroyed, and what was left became part of the red, and the rest was taken by that thing.

Those black holes belonged to that, they weren't black holes; they were more like mouths, we were being devoured. It spat us out after a certain event outside, our remains returned to our reddish waste, and we regained physical form.

I prefer to call that thing "The Final Angel", the Angel so immense, larger than the earth, maybe even two or three times larger, soaring through space with the sound of flapping in the muffled noise of space.

I look towards the horizon, the red sky turns white, and the reddish is engulfed in cobwebs that snake, changing shapes, the horrible white iris, black lines snaking through its eyes, the pallor of its skin, and its horrible smile. It smiles, smiles as it left us, it was a smile of victory and fun; she smiles at seeing our destruction. But there's something more in its eyes, there was pain, it wasn't an "Angel", not a "Demon" or a "God", it's a human.

With a final look at the gracious being, its gaze melts away, leaving the horrifying gaze, bony face, and sunken eyes that flicker with darkness.

The pillars of light that had lost their shine regained it forcefully as they ascended slowly into the sky. The dust rose in large clouds of dirt where the pillars once stood, the fresh air hit my face, my scarf dancing to the slow rhythm, and I could feel my hair gently swaying.

I half close my eyes; I can't see myself, but I know in this moment, my face must have a grimace; everything was going to happen again, right?