Is this your mum?
From the moment I understood the weakness of my flesh, it disgusted me. I craved the strength and certainty of steel. I aspired to the purity of the Blessed Machine. Your kind cling to your flesh, as though it will not decay and fail you. One day the crude biomass you call a temple will wither, and you will beg my kind to save you. But I am already saved, for the Machine is immortal… Even in death I serve the Omnissiah.
I been procrastinating this translation for a while but now warhammer and poetry are in the same context, I simply have to.
(In case you wanna listen to it)
I want to be mechanized.
vroom, vroom, vroom!
clank clank clank!I want to be mechanized.
This [feeling] comes from my brain, from my flesh, from my bones.
I go mad to get my hands on every dynamo.
My saliva-covered tongue is licking copper wires.
The auto-draisine in my veins is chasing down locomotives.vroom,
vroom!clank clank clank!
I want to be mechanized.
Certainly I will find a solution to this.
And then I will be content only
the day I mount a turbine in my abdomen, and
append a double-propulsor on my tailplane!vroom vroom
clank clank clank!I want to be mechanized!
- Nazim Hikmet, 1923. Makinalaşmak İstiyorum.
Thank you
Thank you for this!
Mom accidentally dropped an existential poem in the group chat and then probably went back to doing dishes.
Mom tried the edibles.
Mom got woke
Nausea, Jean-Paul Sartre
All flesh is one
That’s because it is poetry
I have similar thoughts when I eat meat.
Its very hard to trave the supply chains. I drives me to eat, and grow for myself, a vegetarian diet.
Literally Alan Wake type writing.
mom knows what it would feel like for the knife to go through her own leg?
Mom is stoned.
“What kind of mushrooms did you put in the mushroom sauce?”
Trip ≠ High
An overdue existential crisis, or moment of clarity, caused by a lifetime of routine alienation between the consumer, the product, the store, the factory pen and butchery.
Mom should read Marx, and The Jungle.
Maybe pick up hunting, if she wants to see what it takes from her own pov.
Maybe watch Dominion
For busy moms who don’t have time for a full documentary, try 3minutes.wtf.
my last straw was Meet Your Meat
I was pressured into going hunting a few times with my dad growing up, and I ended up killing a few deer. It’s something I’m not proud of, one among many things I came to regret later in life.
I used to think “If you can’t or won’t kill it personally, then you shouldn’t eat it” was an argument in support of hunting. Now I think of it as an argument in support of vegetarianism. Funny how perspective changes everything…
What’s also funny is how as a society we say things like “kids who kill bugs grow up to be psychopaths,” yet we totally normalize hunting as a sport. Why is that? For that matter, why don’t we say “anyone who eats animal flesh is a psychopath?”
As if being five steps removed from the suffering and death somehow abstracts the cruelty so that one can indulge in the pleasure of what is produced by it without bearing any moral culpability in the processes by which that meat arrived on one’s plate?
Why is it only the forms of cruelty that society doesn’t accept as cultural pastimes that are considered taboo? I should rephrase. Why does society accept some forms of cruelty and not others?
As if being five steps removed from the suffering and death somehow abstracts the cruelty so that one can indulge in the pleasure of what is produced by it without bearing any moral culpability in the processes by which that meat arrived on one’s plate?
This, and as a vegan it infuriates/despairs me when people whom I otherwise like and respect just never turn a thought towards this dissonance in their lives. They may care deeply about social injustices and oppression, but see no problem with continuing to participate in the mass torture and murder of non-human sentient creatures. So by now when someone says they “love animals”, my first (internal) reaction is a bitter snort, because it’s extremely rare that such people are even vegetarian, let alone vegan.
The principal difference ia that you see the death of a non-sapient animal as murder and I ascribe it the same ethical weight whether a person or a lion does it. It’s not “dissonance” it’s a foundational disagreement on inherent morality, our place in nature, and the “value of life”.
There’s lots to complain about regarding the factory farming industry (environmental impact foremost in my mind, and the needlessly inhumane conditions they’re raised in) but eating meat is not imo itself a cruel act.
Definitely, my comment was made within the practical reality of what “eating meat” involves for the vast majority of people living in Western societies. If animals would just be painlessly and “stresslessly” euthanised, I would have almost zero issues with the concept. (And yes, I’m setting higher standards for humans than for predators re: painlessly/stresslessly, because we do have both the means and a sense of right and wrong, unlike lions.)
I don’t see life itself as valuable - a life filled with suffering imho is not necessarily better than nonexistence, though of course this is up to each entity to decide about themselves. (And for this reason I’m also pro-euthanasia / assisted dying.)
This is why I prefer chicken, I know I can take one on 1v1.
You’d be surprised, those descendants of T-rex can be fierce!

Kidding, but I fully agree with your comments. I write a lot about the public perceptions on nature in my work. The stories we tell ourselves sometimes, I swear.
deleted by creator
Idk, my mom’s rooster bullies me relentlessly, and I could PROBABLY take him in a fight, but its not a sure thing.
+1 to the existential exploration.
A little more lot and she’ll eventually stumble in to “Where did this existence come from? Why is there matter to have a universe, why is there any existence at all? If God exists, how was he created?”
Or she is on a few different neurospectra, and gets species dysphoria as a regular thing and finds it funny as well.
But yeah after stopping being a vegetarian I went and killed a lot of animals for other people to balance the scales. Now I prefer if my terrestrial meat had a name, not number.
Yep, not a hunter myself, but I do respect someone that actually does the work, does it well, follows the rules, ain’t an insane gun nut, lets the local butcher sell the bits they don’t want for themself.
Food is fucking weird
Mom is beginning to see through her cultural conditioning to things that the owner class meant to be invisible. Mom is made of meat and the flesh on her table was once an individual like her, maybe even a mom like her, and Mom let herself become complicit in a system that makes one victim the victim of another victim all for the enrichment of the cruel and hateful creatures with economic power.
This goes back way further than ownership. We’re talking millions of years. Dinosaurs feasting on dinosaurs. We’re a little speck of dust on a speck of dust in the blink of an eye to the vast, uncaring universe.
John Capitalism invented eating in 1901. Open your mind. Breathe.
We are the universe just as much as anything else. And this universe is likely teeming with life, at least this planet is. Therefore, the universe very much cares.
Fallacy of composition. A car’s tires are made of rubber, doesn’t mean the whole car is made of rubber. Caring is a thing individuals do, not the systems they belong to.
We’re all living in a capitalist society. Does that mean capitalism cares?
Fucking hell, man. I’m already depressed enough as it is.
Right?
I’m already in a perpetual exesential crisis. I don’t need more reason to be.
I’m pretty weirded out by everyone in this thread saying Mom is high as fuck or having a mental break because this feels like a pretty normal series of thoughts to me, and not like something that would be distressing or brought on by distress.
A few years ago, I saw some online discussion where multiple folks were saying you can’t write a beautiful poem about spiders, for whatever reason. At that point, I was deep into writing poems and I do think spiders are swell, so I actually took that as a little challenge to write such a poem. After half an hour, I had something I was happy with and just threw it into the thread.
And man, the reaction will forever sit with me. Around ten folks responded. Every single one with yet another variation of the same joke, that they wanted to know what I’m smoking.
Even when I disprove their thesis, that you can’t write such a poem, by literally just doing that, they still need to declare it impossible without the use of performance-enhancing drugs.I guess, I might have a special talent there, but it was just also particularly weird, because I’m practically clean-edge, as in the hardest drug I’ll occasionally have is coffein.
And yeah, that just left me with the same bewilderment as you. How different is my reality from theirs that they absolutely cannot imagine such thoughts occurring without drugs?No idea, if that and the dissociating are linked. It does probably help a lot with poetry, too, to look at the world for what it is, rather than navigating it on auto-pilot.
It does probably help a lot with poetry, too, to look at the world for what it is, rather than navigating it on auto-pilot.
I think you hit the nail on the head here. Very few people are capable of examining their loop for what it really is, let alone going off autopilot.
Post the spider poem
The shift in the unseen eyes as the thread takes hold, suffocating and spinning; a meal for me, an annoyance for you. In the corners you don’t check, a cornucopia of opportunity as yet another morsel is discarded, attracting them by the droves, your apathy to your own glutton as forgotten as the coconut you keep under your bed. (And, scene.)
I expected that response. 😅
Unfortunately, I didn’t save it, because it wasn’t amazing or anything. It’s in some random internet comment, and I have no idea how one would find it… 🫠
Well at least it’s out there, thanks :)
Some people just have a very narrow existence, I bet your spider poem was great.
You’re just casually slogging through dissociative existentialism on a regular basis?
You guys are getting through?
If you’re going through hell…
Keep going. Why would you stop in hell?
Aren’t we all?
Who said anything about a regular basis?
a pretty normal series of thoughts
The person I was replying to.
It was for me too. That’s why I opt for the tofu now.
Also, what’s wrong with being high as fuck?
I think it’s more that this is from ‘mom’ as in, the parental figure, which is usually the recipient of existential dread of their kids, rather than the one expressing it onto them.
Having them? Sure.













