Principia Discordia > Horrorology

Fear, Loathing, and Horror.

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chaotic neutral observer:

--- Quote from: Q. G. Pennyworth on November 25, 2019, 09:27:46 pm ---
--- Quote from: chaotic neutral observer on November 25, 2019, 01:19:47 pm ---Saying that everything is possible, and you can't be surprised anymore is the same as saying that the universe now makes sense to you.  And since it makes sense, and everything is horror, you're now ready for anything, right?  Feels good?

But it doesn't work that way.  Your brain is a pattern-matching engine made of meat, and although you can train it to laugh at horror, there will always be some combination of inputs that will fucking freak you out, and there's nothing you can do to prevent that.

--- End quote ---


--- End quote ---

Do as you will.

I think that is the disconnect, yeah.

I have actually gotten to the point where my reaction no longer really feels like it counts as horror.

Example: I witnessed a man screaming like he was dying in an alley today. His friend is standing next to him like ... slightly concerned.

“Something wrong?”

“It’s just, you know, the worms, man? It gets this way sometimes.”

And I nodded and wished them a good day, hope it gets better, all that.

Yeah, no, really. This happened. LMNO has probably seen that kind of thing before, maybe Cram too.

I don’t think they were psychotic or delusional, I think they were probably talking about something I don’t know anything about because it’s not my business. I wasn’t frightened, just natural human concern and then apparently unnatural acceptance of an apparently unnatural situation.

It’s not that I can’t be shocked, it’s that my reaction to it is “well, what now?” I don’t shut down or get existential or say “how”.

Now, I used to! And it’s perfectly fine to do so. But it’s gotten to be so mentally exhausting to put any investment into things working “how they should” that I’ve rejected that phrase as being meaningful. Not even consciously. Just, as one thing leading to another, every day filled to the brim with “why” and “how”. I don’t have it in me anymore.

Doktor Howl:
All that means is that your threshold for horror has shifted somewhere way the fuck over there.

Frontside Back:
I did an experiment and spent hours mocking myself from my other facebook account. Like internet age self mutilation. While doing that, I realized: There actually is a part of me inside that hates me relentlessly, and that fucker is pissed, because I don't let it talk very often. It hates everybody else too, but self censoring prevents it from informing anyone about it. So it does what it can, having only partial control of my body, mind and soul: self sabotage, anxiety attacks, insomnia, to lead me into the hell it things I deserve.

It wills me to suffer because I'm not good enough.

It wills me to die because it's tied in a chair watching shitty film about my miserable life in first person perspective.

I hate it back since that's what the murderous bastard deserves, but since it's still attached to me and I end up hating myself, basically giving it what it wants.

Fucking hell.  Make friends with that little fucker.  It only wants recognition and a hug.


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