These are neat. Found them on Pinterest. Made a collage.

Volunteers,

It is my sad duty to inform you that you have just stumbled upon my newly created, miserable little blog where I plan to write and record my various existential and philosophical ramblings about the A Series of Unfortunate Events book and Netflix series as well as the rest of the VFD/Lemony Snicket universe. 

My name is Freddy and I have had the miserable task of being a fan of ASOUE for more than ten years now ever since I read the series first at the tender, naive age of seven. With the creation of the Netflix series, and what seems to be a revamp of the ASOUE fandom, I have taken it upon myself to force my words and ramblings upon you in blog form.

I’m currently a college student studying both English Literature and Philosophy (or as I prefer to truncate it: Poverty) so depending on how many people are willing to tolerate what I have to say, I may also include some genuine philosophical analysis here as well.

I advise you to leave, look away, or otherwise ignore this sad, lonely collection of drabble by a sad, lonely man, but if you choose to say, don’t say you were not warned.

“Most important of all, though, was the fact that the man was fundamentally longing for death. She knew that for sure. She couldn’t explain how she knew, but she knew it from the start. Death was really what he wanted. He knew that it was the right ending for him. And yet he had to go on fighting with all his might. He had to fight against an overwhelming adversary in order to survive. What most shook Junko was this deep-rooted contradiction.”

-Haruki Murakami, landscape with flatiron

Twilight has me under her thumb,
presses me deep into the earth,
making a print of my existence -
a mockery
of my ego

Twilight has me reaching for her,
begging for the meaning of life,
daring for an answer that’s not
a mockery
of ego

Ego has me under his chest,
heaving with each deep breath
forging a weight I can’t lift
to tease
to taunt

Ego has me strapped in leather,
tightening around my frail neck
creating a panic I can’t express
to remind me
who’s in control.

I raise a hand to twilight,
scream with the might of my fear
for answers, for purpose
until the leather cracks,
the chest explodes.

Twilight has me under her thumb,
presses me deep into the earth.
She fades with the setting sun -
a mockery
of the question.

“There is no ultimate meaning. There never was.”

But we can string along small joys of simply being alive — a sip of coffee, the tender touch of another, the laughter shared with a friend, the brilliance of a sun-drenched gradient sky.

Beyond that, we force meaning to create purpose, to feed our tireless minds, and to avoid the truth.

The truth? We are so fucking afraid. We are terrified to sit in silence, scared we might suffocate under the weight of our unlived potential.

But slip into that quiet void, just once. Stare at the sky for a minute longer. Gleam into the eyes of someone you love. Listen to music without lyrics. Eat a grapefruit or a scoop of ice cream. Let it sit on your tongue a little longer. Percolate on the wonders of even just being alive.

Let the rest fall back. Let the noise return to its dungeon. Let the racket die down.

Remind, remind, remind—

There is nothing to fear. The universe loves you because it made you. You don’t need any other reason to exist.

March 26 2021. 12:14pm. Couch.

What’s the point?

⇘

What was ever the point?

‍

Sometimes you just wanna yeet yourself into the void and tell the entire planet to fuck itself. I designed this during the 2020 US election Drawn on Procreate

Life’s wack

plants seeds in your life

don’t burn bridges

find fulfillment in just existing

& most importantly

leave the stones unturned as best you can

ZICO - Balloon

Lyrics:

Just for one day, I’d like to go high

I feel so small, I want to stand tall

There isn’t a particular color I want

I just want to belong somewhere

I’ve already grown so big

but I’m full of sighs I swallow inside

How much of me will be gone tomorrow

Let’s just move on

Whoosh

I’m so helpless

pushed around by the wind

as if I’m flying

Did you let go of me by a mistake

or did you send me flying on purpose

You don’t have to answer

Sometimes I want to be hugged real hard

Someone just pop me in advance

The world is full of edges

and it wants someone to fall right now

When the loud party is over

I’ll be abandoned in pieces

Tears dropping in the opposite direction

Just go back the way you came

Whoosh

I’m so helpless

pushed around by the wind

as if I’m flying

Did you let go of me by a mistake

or did you send me flying on purpose

You don’t need to answer

Exist

—

Sometimes I ask myself

“Do I exist?”

Or is there nothing there

In the spaces between my fingertips

Just a dead stare

And a visible tear

A hole where my heart should be

I find myself through other people

Because my own reality seems feeble

Their thoughts of me seem more real

Than my own thoughts and how I feel

Does anyone out there hear me?

Does anybody out there care?

Or am I just wasting my words

Drowning in this personality game?

I walk to up every single person

To strike up a conversation

With the hidden intent of learning

From them, to tell me about myself

Whether I should be loved or hated

Whether I’m important or worthless

And maybe

Just maybe

If I truly exist

…

[image description: a black and white comic that’s been edited with yellow text in the middle panel.

left: a person wearing sunglasses and a shirt that says “no fear”

middle: what if i somehow die before ofmd season 2 in like a freak accident. can you watch tv shows on the spirit realm? i think if we become all-knowing after death it wouldn’t be as enjoyable. i couldn’t have the experience of watching it the first time because i’d already know what happens. i could reincarnate but what’s the likelihood that i come back in the same time period and i’m gay again. would they let me do that? to watch the gay pirate show?

right: the same person but the shirt says “one fear”

end ID]

“It is certain that we cannot escape anguish, for we are anguish”

– Jean-Paul Sartre, “Being and Nothingness”

At the heart of all beauty lies something inhuman.

Albert Camus