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Existential Quotes

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Existential Quotes

“There are things in this world that have no explanation. When you come across these things, you have two options. Option one is to try to make things make sense. This is what most people do. They experience something and they try to mold the event to their experiences, to understand what happened using the filter of what they already know. This never works. It only leads to confusion and frustration, yes? The second option is to accept that strange things happen, that the impossible sometimes is real. When you accept it, you can move on with your life. Our ancestors invented gods for this reason and they were happier because of it.”

“The mirror tosses back a version of me as if it has been whirled through a cosmic blender, morphing into shapes that don't quite stick. It's not only a reflection staring back but a whole gallery of emotions, imprisoned into a perpetual loop —hope flickers, despair looms, joy bursts, and pain shadows. They all merge into faces I swear I've known and echoes of a past I carry, recklessly pieced together in a spectacle of what it means to be achingly, beautifully human.”

“The story of the world is not the story of coup’s and revolution’s, it is the story of lost keys and burnt coffee and a sleeping child in your arms. History is the untallied sum of a million everyday moments.”

“Techistentialism studies the nature of human beings, existence, and decision-making in our technological world. Today, we face both technological and existential conditions that can no longer be separated. We define this phenomenon as Techistentialism.”

“Today, humanity faces technological and existential conditions that can’t be separated. We define this phenomenon as “Techistentialism.” Our existential condition is an uncertain one, considering the inherent dualities and paradoxes of life. Our techistential condition is no different.”

“We believe because it gives us faith. It gives us the willingness to go through our day, to keep the existentialist threat of meaninglessness away. We believe because we crave to be seen, to be known, to be understood. We believe because that is the only thing we can do. If there is no one to judge us - to tell us that we are good, and that if we are bad, we can be redeemed - why bother living at all? Why bother being good at all? If there is no one to look after us, and we are truly alone in this universe, what purpose do we have? We have nothing but the present moment, and only temporariness.”

“Well, if that's suffering, he thinks, let me suffer. Yes. To love whoever I have left. And if ever I lose someone, let me descend into a futile and prolonged rage, yes, despair, wanting to break things, furniture, appliances, wanting to get into fights, to scream, to walk in front of a bus, yes. Let me suffer, please. To love just these few people, to know myself capable of that, I would suffer every day of my life.”

“The Behemoth & The Godspawn Surfer by Stewart Stafford Jagged flesh in the behemoth's belly, The city encircled by its tongue's pall, I drank toxic fumes and pumice smoke, As I tried surfing along a lava waterfall. My obsidian bone board, surging fire, Cryptid blood drips from a snapping jaw, In a flash of the beast's fungal jawline, I counted the vacant dead within its maw. In a blaze, I was in its mouth and deeper, I rounded the gullet's scalding turn, Into a sea of swirling bones, stomach bile, Where half-chewed skyscrapers churn. "Leave me, Godspawn!" the monster roared, "Spoil not my prey feasting for my fangs to cut!" My board speared into its festering heart, It ejected me in a howling thunderclap of sulphur soot. And hurled me skyward, sand-blasted, and bruised, The plume cleared, and the beast stood, wound-free— Lava floods scorched, the city’s debt — a lifeblood hue, By sunrise, my perennial task returned to enslave me. © 2025, Stewart Stafford. All rights reserved.”

“We've been dead for thousands and thousands of years. Dead or sleeping, depends on how you feel about it at any given moment. But that's okay. The trouble starts when you are born, then everything becomes taxing and temporary. When they pulled us into awareness, they killed us. Then we get saddled with a seven minute relay, at best. A soft limbo that's only palliative and comforting in theory. A momentary respite that's a cosmic joke of course and still resented by the divine. A petty haggling of which we weren't even a part of. When forced into an existence, we turned into the ward of all that breathes, subjected to the known universe, and though always partial to the unknown, which wasn't really found and never understood, is lost to us.”