Reality:
You get fucked by big companies. Your snow is reduced to februrary because of climate change.
Finding a special other is almost impossible due to social media fed anxiety. Meeting people outside of the internet is unknown and people on the internet are the weirdest ones.
Owning a house is a privilege of the upper society.
Thanks to our parents and grand parents the governments in most countries are more right wing than before.
I agree w most of this but I’d argue most people meet outside the internet. I’m online far too much for it to be healthy and even I meet most people irl
You are probably right. I exaggerated a bit.
While this may be true, I usually think that the problem is me, not other people
6 years ago my wife died. I chose to keep on going for our cats. I’ve since remarried, we have a daughter on the way, two dachshunds, we bought a house, and I reconnected with my mother after 15 years. Life is so fucking hard but sometimes we get lucky. Keep rolling the dice until you can’t no more.
This isn’t wholesome for me, it is a literal waking nightmare.
I don’t want cookie cutter suburban stability I want a reason to live.
This ain’t it for me man.
This is literally impossible. Christmas 2033 falls on a Sunday, how can the following day be Saturday?
10 years later: Single, can’t afford rent, job doesn’t pay, kids? Can’t even afford a fish, it’s scorching hot outside, and tomorrow you work. All the hard work, for what? At least the bosses made it
Boomer fanfiction is so hot right now.
Picture this: enough fent to kill an elephant. You smile as you throw all of it in your mouth and chase it with your favorite cocktail.
Wholesome thanks! Wish it was me. Also to be fair that much fent is like what a bottle cap of 100% fent ? Haha
It’s a pill or two if you’re not in the game. Smoke it on foil. Waking up after an accidental one hit OD made me reevaluate shit.
It’s so peaceful. Waking up was even glorious.
You are worth more than your own death. It may not feel like it, but I promise you it’s true. Talk to me if you ever want to.
(yes I want to die and talk others out of dying. fite me)
That would be an interesting premise for a show or similar, a person trying to die somehow keeps living yet talks others out of their suicide.
Every episode begins with them waking up after another failed attempt, similar to how Quantum Leap worked.
“Mother of fuck. Not again.”
c/aboringdystopia
In ten years we’ll have missed the boat to have kids and we still probably won’t be able to afford a home in the city we live in. At least it won’t be long till the Water Wars starts and ends this miserable timeline.
I had that 10 years ago. It was amazing. Then my wife’s personality did a 180 and she left me.
… yay
I’m going to be honest but that’s really not my dream life lol
About 5 years ago, I had this dream… I was sat at the bottom of a spiral staircase, in what I knew to be my house, having a party with my fiancee sat next to me. I laughed and said “How did I get so lucky, someone pinch me!”. Fiancee pinched me, I said “ow!” and we laughed. Then I woke up, fucking brutal sense of loss for a wonderful life that suddenly didn’t exist.
I still remember it quite clearly. Last month my landlord served notice on me after 13 years (wants to sell), I’m self employed and always thought a mortgage was out of the question. Well… I have tenative approval from a lender… and an offer accepted on a house… still time for it to fall apart. So I refuse to get excited till keys in hand.
Anyway this has turned into a bit of a long ting. But just wanted to share, for anyone else who thinks it’s impossible… it’s very hard. But do-able.
Choose Life. Choose a job. Choose a career. Choose a family. Choose a fucking big television, choose washing machines, cars, compact disc players and electrical tin openers. Choose good health, low cholesterol, and dental insurance. Choose fixed interest mortgage repayments. Choose a starter home. Choose your friends. Choose leisurewear and matching luggage. Choose a three-piece suit on hire purchase in a range of fucking fabrics. Choose DIY and wondering who the fuck you are on Sunday morning. Choose sitting on that couch watching mind-numbing, spirit-crushing game shows, stuffing fucking junk food into your mouth. Choose rotting away at the end of it all, pissing your last in a miserable home, nothing more than an embarrassment to the selfish, fucked up brats you spawned to replace yourselves. Choose your future.
WE WANT YOUR SOUL
