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I'm sick, entertain me
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2023-04-06 at 11:13 PM UTCMy home test was negative for covid but it feels like covid but not quite as bad.
My nose instantly itches and tingles and I'm sneezing every ten minutes.
Someone talk to me. I have no more notifications to check on socials and I feel too bad to edit reels -
2023-04-06 at 11:18 PM UTC
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2023-04-06 at 11:21 PM UTCPM nudes
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2023-04-07 at 12:05 AM UTCI like to watch dumb shit like this when I'm falling asleep, I'd probably do the same when I'm sick, that is if I can't think of any interesting movies or shows
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2023-04-07 at 12:24 AM UTC
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2023-04-07 at 12:40 AM UTCShe? Kafka is a dude
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2023-04-07 at 1:10 AM UTCIs covid real?
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2023-04-07 at 1:10 AM UTC
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2023-04-07 at 1:14 AM UTC
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2023-04-07 at 1:38 AM UTC
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2023-04-07 at 1:38 AM UTC
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2023-04-07 at 1:53 AM UTCYouve just been SO SICK this year! I literally have been sick like 4 times this year already when literary i used to be like tom cruise and never get sick hardly ever so it just goes to show you.
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2023-04-07 at 2:34 AM UTCThe author of this post has returned to nothingness
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2023-04-07 at 2:58 AM UTC
UNGA BUNGA BUNGA, G -
2023-04-07 at 3:20 AM UTC
Originally posted by lockedin I have said elsewhere that the world, considered as object,—in other words, as it is presented to us objectively,—wears in general a pleasing aspect; but that in the world, considered as subject,—that is, in regard to its inner nature, which is will,—pain and trouble predominate. I may be allowed to express the matter, briefly, thus: the world is glorious to look at, but dreadful in reality.
Accordingly, we find that, in the years of childhood, the world is much better known to us on its outer or objective side, namely, as the presentation of will, than on the side of its inner nature, namely, as the will itself. Since the objective side wears a pleasing aspect, and the inner or subjective side, with its tale of horror, remains as yet unknown, the youth, as his intelligence develops, takes all the forms of beauty that he sees, in nature and in art, for so many objects of blissful existence; they are so beautiful to the outward eye that, on their inner side, they must, he thinks, be much more beautiful still. So the world lies before him like another Eden; and this is the Arcadia in which we are all born.
A little later, this state of mind gives birth to a thirst for real life—the impulse to do and suffer—which drives a man forth into the hurly-burly of the world. There he learns the other side of existence—the inner side, the will, which is thwarted at every step. Then comes the great period of disillusion, a period of very gradual growth; but once it has fairly begun, a man will tell you that he has got over all his false notions—l'age des illusions est passe; and yet the process is only beginning, and it goes on extending its sway and applying more and more to the whole of life.
So it may be said that in childhood, life looks like the scenery in a theatre, as you view it from a distance; and that in old age it is like the same scenery when you come up quite close to it.
And, lastly, there is another circumstance that contributes to the happiness of childhood. As spring commences, the young leaves on the trees are similar in color and much the same in shape; and in the first years of life we all resemble one another and harmonize very well. But with puberty divergence begins; and, like the radii of a circle, we go further and further apart.
The period of youth, which forms the remainder of this earlier half of our existence—and how many advantages it has over the later half!—is troubled and made miserable by the pursuit of happiness, as though there were no doubt that it can be met with somewhere in life,—a hope that always ends in failure and leads to discontent. An illusory image of some vague future bliss–born of a dream and shaped by fancy—floats before our eyes; and we search for the reality in vain. So it is that the young man is generally dissatisfied with the position in which he finds himself, whatever it may be; he ascribes his disappointment solely to the state of things that meets him on his first introduction to life, when he had expected something very different; whereas it is only the vanity and wretchedness of human life everywhere that he is now for the first time experiencing. -
2023-04-07 at 4:07 AM UTC
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2023-04-07 at 4:42 AM UTCThanks for the vids I'll watch them later the blue light is hurting my head
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2023-04-07 at 12 PM UTC
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2023-04-07 at 12:38 PM UTC
Originally posted by lockedin I have said elsewhere that the world, considered as object,—in other words, as it is presented to us objectively,—wears in general a pleasing aspect; but that in the world, considered as subject,—that is, in regard to its inner nature, which is will,—pain and trouble predominate. I may be allowed to express the matter, briefly, thus: the world is glorious to look at, but dreadful in reality.
Accordingly, we find that, in the years of childhood, the world is much better known to us on its outer or objective side, namely, as the presentation of will, than on the side of its inner nature, namely, as the will itself. Since the objective side wears a pleasing aspect, and the inner or subjective side, with its tale of horror, remains as yet unknown, the youth, as his intelligence develops, takes all the forms of beauty that he sees, in nature and in art, for so many objects of blissful existence; they are so beautiful to the outward eye that, on their inner side, they must, he thinks, be much more beautiful still. So the world lies before him like another Eden; and this is the Arcadia in which we are all born.
A little later, this state of mind gives birth to a thirst for real life—the impulse to do and suffer—which drives a man forth into the hurly-burly of the world. There he learns the other side of existence—the inner side, the will, which is thwarted at every step. Then comes the great period of disillusion, a period of very gradual growth; but once it has fairly begun, a man will tell you that he has got over all his false notions—l'age des illusions est passe; and yet the process is only beginning, and it goes on extending its sway and applying more and more to the whole of life.
So it may be said that in childhood, life looks like the scenery in a theatre, as you view it from a distance; and that in old age it is like the same scenery when you come up quite close to it.
And, lastly, there is another circumstance that contributes to the happiness of childhood. As spring commences, the young leaves on the trees are similar in color and much the same in shape; and in the first years of life we all resemble one another and harmonize very well. But with puberty divergence begins; and, like the radii of a circle, we go further and further apart.
The period of youth, which forms the remainder of this earlier half of our existence—and how many advantages it has over the later half!—is troubled and made miserable by the pursuit of happiness, as though there were no doubt that it can be met with somewhere in life,—a hope that always ends in failure and leads to discontent. An illusory image of some vague future bliss–born of a dream and shaped by fancy—floats before our eyes; and we search for the reality in vain. So it is that the young man is generally dissatisfied with the position in which he finds himself, whatever it may be; he ascribes his disappointment solely to the state of things that meets him on his first introduction to life, when he had expected something very different; whereas it is only the vanity and wretchedness of human life everywhere that he is now for the first time experiencing.
Didn’t read this ⬆️ AI generated goop 😆
Originally posted by Incessant I also don't see the point in wasting time reading the words of a robot
Me neither -
2023-04-07 at 1:47 PM UTCo stixk e,m