I don’t know why I came into existence or why I am here within existence… all I know is that I am. Is that a good thing? Sometimes…. more times than not in fact. It’s a good thing. But sometimes mere existence is difficult. Existing is all we can do sometimes. And you know what? That’s okay. It’s okay to merely exist sometimes. It’s better than nothing at all.
existence
it is real
fake
can we touch it
taste it
feel it
breathe it
can we live it
are we living it
living for it
against it
do we exist
and at what price
do we
exist
if we do at all
My existence on this earth is no different than anyone else’s, even though it feels like it sometimes. Many people here are only taking up space. Others don’t want to be a bother and thus, do their best to disappear. I am not sure of my position here, but I look forward to finding out more.
I think something’s broken.
I should really be more productive.
Awesome, just awesome.
No, really, it was a pretty good day. Nothing special, but it was good. Honest.
This is when something crazy is supposed to happen.
the words scrambling through my head are not enough to examine my existence. all i want is some jazz and a cup of tea and the nights we sat at the table quietly and drank. it was a sleepy, warm silence. a silence enough to envelope us, broken by giggles and whispers and sleepiness. we wanted so badly to lay down together but that was impossible with my parents in the other room. we wanted to be together then. that second. where sleepiness brought us together and now im sleepy and i want you by my side but im far away and youre close to home and i miss you and i wonder if you really miss me. if you do then why dont you call? why dont you come to me and put your arms around me and hold me forever and never let me go.
Shakespeare said it best when he said ‘To be or not to be, that is the question’ and he must have had a clue about the challenge of being and the unbearable lightness of it all while talking of all the joys of it through the eyes of a Prince. I’m worn down at the moment. But in time it shall be fine and I’ll have myself back at full speed. The sooner the better but we shall see. I’ve got such time in my life to wait and see.
Existence. Existentialism. On Prom Night. The only decent song she could play on the piano, and it always reminded her of him – his smile, his voice, the way he laughed.
The way the light in his eyes faded as the rain washed over him through the shattered windshield.
The way she didn’t have enough breath in her body to whisper a goodbye.
She stares, fascinated, at the tiny cottage inside her snowglobe. Tiny flakes of artificial snow fall from the glass sky to rest on the plastic ground. Beside the castle, a small boy stands, admiring something in his hand.
“I wonder what it would be like, living in a snowglobe.” she thinks.
In another universe, a boy has just been given a snowglobe.
He examines the miniscule house inside. Inside a window, a little plastic girl seems to be staring intently at something in her hand.
“I wonder what that’s like,” he says. “living in a snowglobe.”
existence is kind of hard. it’s like… no matter what… you’re always just going to be a little part of everything. a dot on a map, that everyone over looks. no matter how hard you try, how many lives you change, how many awards you win… after a while you’ll be forgotten. and no one will know who you are or what you did. and that’s scary. really scary. you try so hard to fit in, live your life perfectly but at the end of the day, it doesnt matter.
And in that simple gesture, it felt as if I was almost forced to miss our friendship. It was the first time I had feelings like these, and I hoped it would be the last time. I had a flashback of our whole friendship, which couldn’t easily be described or summarized. It was complicated, to say the least. And I didn’t miss that. But for one stolid second, I did miss him.
It explains all human life form. It’s the thought of being something, somewhere, in a real world. It’s how people look around and see anything because it’s their existence. Whether you think you’re here to worship God or get a promotion at work. You know why you exist.
Existing. Existing just for the sake of existing. There isn’t any point anymore. No one cared, anyway. No one even gave a damn when I walked up here with the intention of jumping off the highest floor. No one cares, so what’s the point of this existence? Might just as well jump off.
My whole Existence depended on him. Without him the sun would no longer exist, smiles, happiness, none of that would exist. He made my life, maybe he was my life. He was my inspiration, my reason to keep going, even when everything else seemed to be so wrong. He fixed me when I was broken and crushed, he was the glue holding everything together. I am who I am thanks to him, maybe someday I will be strong enough to stand alone, but as of now I need and want him for as long as he’ll allow.
existence is drab sometimes, other days there are cookies. i am listening to fiona apple tell me how it is, i appreciate her viewpoint. she gets angry in such a satisfying way. i need to channel her rage one of these days and fix all the bs in my life. i am tired of waiting for things to improve…as Fiona says, “What wasted unconditional love on somebody who doesn’t believe in the stuff….”
The existence of the world has always been a mind boggling question in the back of my mind. I’m not sure what I believe. Some say that God created all of existence but how did he come into existence. Some say that existence began with the Big Bang but I still don’t understand how nothing could become so much.
I was siting in math class listening to Mr. Walker drone on and on about the square root of two. I hated him so much. I wish he didn’t exist. I wish math didn’t exist. I hate math
Existence is something many people experience, but very few actually fully achieve. To truly exist, to truly live, you need to do something truly worthwhile. No one cares about existence anymore.
why do we all exist? was it god? was it evolution? i wish i knew but it depends on beliefs.
my family’s happens to be evolution. that’s why i hide believing in god.
“Damn it, the pencil sharpener was just here,” grumbled Greg.
Over the past few days, quite a few things has suddenly not been where they should be. Not anything of any real importance, just a few little things that nobody would miss… Until they were needed. What’s worse, it wasn’t even like someone had taken any of the missing trinkets off Greg’s desk. More like, they’d simply blinked out of existence.
“I wonder how long it’ll be before I…”, thought Greg. And then he wasn’t…
People take for granted their very existence all the time. Doubting their abilities. Doubting their future. Doubting their very purpose. Your purpose IS to exist. To enjoy life as you know it. Just exist.
I had never been wanted my entire life. My existence was invalid, no-one had ever tried to tell me otherwise. Such was our life here, up in the highlands, the mountains. If you were not strong, not what you were supposed to be, then you were nothing. I had always believed that I was nothing like they had always told me – until you.
It’s amazing to think what your existence does for me. Every look, no matter how insignificant, makes my heart skip. Every touch makes me feel again- something I never thought would happen. I’m simply falling in love with the idea of you.
I’m here, as you can see. Or maybe you can’t.
Can you tell I’m here?
Can you hear the sound of my voice, the sound of my very being,
echoing off these walls for your ears,
your eyes alone.
Can you tell me when you feel me
when you hear the whisper of breath
across your neck
when you see the ghost of chance
that might be us in the future.
I’m here, as you can see. Or maybe, you can’t.
Maybe you’re blinded still, by fear and…
Fear.
Just open up a little wider:
there are possibilities still here.
She had all of her life ahead of her, and yet she refused to live. Merely, she existed. There was no excitement, no passion, no joy, no sorrow, no love, no hate, no hope, no fear, no faith. There was nothing but existence.
Existence is a complex word. It makes me think about what I’m doing here on the planet, what I’m made of. It’s a philosophical word. What people belong to, the existence of man on the planet…
Really. This. God I could go back to when I wondered what this was… I mean, I still do, just not with such a fury. I had poem upon poem upon poem of what the hell this was supposed to be. Now, I know, sort of. It’s being. But that’s not enough.
Existence is such a heavy word. Many people dread simply existing. They want to make a difference, be proactive. But then you think about animals, and they just exist. They survive. I want to survive, too. But the fact is that I exist. And I’m going to make the most of it.
I wish I could just get you to talk to me
I want you to know that I exist
that i’m here
But when I try talking to you I freeze
You scare me
you scare me because I like you so much
and i don’t know what to do with myself
today, my existence is mostly related to grad school. i eat, sleep, breathe my work. it’s not much of an existence at all, actually. grad school anxiety is currently immobilizing and i just feel complete fear, and find it hard to breathe. hopefully things get a little easier. i’m trying to make my existence mean more.
We found existence buried 16 feet under shadows; having been hidden from the earth in the habitual, immortal shade. Shedding crimson light in a full gown of shame, existence hangs its head in the waning moonless streams.
I don’t know why I came into existence or why I am here within existence… all I know is that I am. Is that a good thing? Sometimes…. more times than not in fact. It’s a good thing. But sometimes mere existence is difficult. Existing is all we can do sometimes. And you know what? That’s okay. It’s okay to merely exist sometimes. It’s better than nothing at all.
existence
it is real
fake
can we touch it
taste it
feel it
breathe it
can we live it
are we living it
living for it
against it
do we exist
and at what price
do we
exist
if we do at all
My existence on this earth is no different than anyone else’s, even though it feels like it sometimes. Many people here are only taking up space. Others don’t want to be a bother and thus, do their best to disappear. I am not sure of my position here, but I look forward to finding out more.
I think something’s broken.
I should really be more productive.
Awesome, just awesome.
No, really, it was a pretty good day. Nothing special, but it was good. Honest.
This is when something crazy is supposed to happen.
the words scrambling through my head are not enough to examine my existence. all i want is some jazz and a cup of tea and the nights we sat at the table quietly and drank. it was a sleepy, warm silence. a silence enough to envelope us, broken by giggles and whispers and sleepiness. we wanted so badly to lay down together but that was impossible with my parents in the other room. we wanted to be together then. that second. where sleepiness brought us together and now im sleepy and i want you by my side but im far away and youre close to home and i miss you and i wonder if you really miss me. if you do then why dont you call? why dont you come to me and put your arms around me and hold me forever and never let me go.
Shakespeare said it best when he said ‘To be or not to be, that is the question’ and he must have had a clue about the challenge of being and the unbearable lightness of it all while talking of all the joys of it through the eyes of a Prince. I’m worn down at the moment. But in time it shall be fine and I’ll have myself back at full speed. The sooner the better but we shall see. I’ve got such time in my life to wait and see.
you are the crisis in my heart.
Existence. Existentialism. On Prom Night. The only decent song she could play on the piano, and it always reminded her of him – his smile, his voice, the way he laughed.
The way the light in his eyes faded as the rain washed over him through the shattered windshield.
The way she didn’t have enough breath in her body to whisper a goodbye.
She stares, fascinated, at the tiny cottage inside her snowglobe. Tiny flakes of artificial snow fall from the glass sky to rest on the plastic ground. Beside the castle, a small boy stands, admiring something in his hand.
“I wonder what it would be like, living in a snowglobe.” she thinks.
In another universe, a boy has just been given a snowglobe.
He examines the miniscule house inside. Inside a window, a little plastic girl seems to be staring intently at something in her hand.
“I wonder what that’s like,” he says. “living in a snowglobe.”
existence is kind of hard. it’s like… no matter what… you’re always just going to be a little part of everything. a dot on a map, that everyone over looks. no matter how hard you try, how many lives you change, how many awards you win… after a while you’ll be forgotten. and no one will know who you are or what you did. and that’s scary. really scary. you try so hard to fit in, live your life perfectly but at the end of the day, it doesnt matter.
And in that simple gesture, it felt as if I was almost forced to miss our friendship. It was the first time I had feelings like these, and I hoped it would be the last time. I had a flashback of our whole friendship, which couldn’t easily be described or summarized. It was complicated, to say the least. And I didn’t miss that. But for one stolid second, I did miss him.
It explains all human life form. It’s the thought of being something, somewhere, in a real world. It’s how people look around and see anything because it’s their existence. Whether you think you’re here to worship God or get a promotion at work. You know why you exist.
Existing. Existing just for the sake of existing. There isn’t any point anymore. No one cared, anyway. No one even gave a damn when I walked up here with the intention of jumping off the highest floor. No one cares, so what’s the point of this existence? Might just as well jump off.
My whole Existence depended on him. Without him the sun would no longer exist, smiles, happiness, none of that would exist. He made my life, maybe he was my life. He was my inspiration, my reason to keep going, even when everything else seemed to be so wrong. He fixed me when I was broken and crushed, he was the glue holding everything together. I am who I am thanks to him, maybe someday I will be strong enough to stand alone, but as of now I need and want him for as long as he’ll allow.
existence is drab sometimes, other days there are cookies. i am listening to fiona apple tell me how it is, i appreciate her viewpoint. she gets angry in such a satisfying way. i need to channel her rage one of these days and fix all the bs in my life. i am tired of waiting for things to improve…as Fiona says, “What wasted unconditional love on somebody who doesn’t believe in the stuff….”
The existence of the world has always been a mind boggling question in the back of my mind. I’m not sure what I believe. Some say that God created all of existence but how did he come into existence. Some say that existence began with the Big Bang but I still don’t understand how nothing could become so much.
why do I question the validity of my existence relative to everyone else?
I was siting in math class listening to Mr. Walker drone on and on about the square root of two. I hated him so much. I wish he didn’t exist. I wish math didn’t exist. I hate math
Existence.
We existed silently next to each other, neither brave nor scared, meaningful or pointless.
Our existence was translucent
-Caroline (CJN)
Existence is something many people experience, but very few actually fully achieve. To truly exist, to truly live, you need to do something truly worthwhile. No one cares about existence anymore.
why do we all exist? was it god? was it evolution? i wish i knew but it depends on beliefs.
my family’s happens to be evolution. that’s why i hide believing in god.
“Damn it, the pencil sharpener was just here,” grumbled Greg.
Over the past few days, quite a few things has suddenly not been where they should be. Not anything of any real importance, just a few little things that nobody would miss… Until they were needed. What’s worse, it wasn’t even like someone had taken any of the missing trinkets off Greg’s desk. More like, they’d simply blinked out of existence.
“I wonder how long it’ll be before I…”, thought Greg. And then he wasn’t…
People take for granted their very existence all the time. Doubting their abilities. Doubting their future. Doubting their very purpose. Your purpose IS to exist. To enjoy life as you know it. Just exist.
It’s all debatable. How can we be totally sure what is real? And how does it relate to collective conciousness?
Truth is, we don’t know anything.
we once were. we are. never have been.. nothing is running in my mind. thats my lack of living today.
my existence is stupidly insignificant. I am a speck of dust floating in the air. I am nothing, my existence means aught.
Her existence was a fragile thing, the wing of a butterfly on a summer thermal. One wrong step, one false move, and it would all come tumbling down.
I had never been wanted my entire life. My existence was invalid, no-one had ever tried to tell me otherwise. Such was our life here, up in the highlands, the mountains. If you were not strong, not what you were supposed to be, then you were nothing. I had always believed that I was nothing like they had always told me – until you.
It’s amazing to think what your existence does for me. Every look, no matter how insignificant, makes my heart skip. Every touch makes me feel again- something I never thought would happen. I’m simply falling in love with the idea of you.
I’m here, as you can see. Or maybe you can’t.
Can you tell I’m here?
Can you hear the sound of my voice, the sound of my very being,
echoing off these walls for your ears,
your eyes alone.
Can you tell me when you feel me
when you hear the whisper of breath
across your neck
when you see the ghost of chance
that might be us in the future.
I’m here, as you can see. Or maybe, you can’t.
Maybe you’re blinded still, by fear and…
Fear.
Just open up a little wider:
there are possibilities still here.
The mere existence of humans is detrimental to the environment.
We destroy as we build.
We break as we fix.
We die as we grow.
We live as a force of destruction, and our existence has ruined the world.
She had all of her life ahead of her, and yet she refused to live. Merely, she existed. There was no excitement, no passion, no joy, no sorrow, no love, no hate, no hope, no fear, no faith. There was nothing but existence.
Existence is a complex word. It makes me think about what I’m doing here on the planet, what I’m made of. It’s a philosophical word. What people belong to, the existence of man on the planet…
She smiled in the face of the wind.
Her hair blew, and she was happy.
The young girl breathed, arms open and dress billowing about her legs. She hadn’t known that it would be this wonderful. This… this life. Existence.
She had dreamed of it for millennia, but only now it had come to her.
Really. This. God I could go back to when I wondered what this was… I mean, I still do, just not with such a fury. I had poem upon poem upon poem of what the hell this was supposed to be. Now, I know, sort of. It’s being. But that’s not enough.
Existence is such a heavy word. Many people dread simply existing. They want to make a difference, be proactive. But then you think about animals, and they just exist. They survive. I want to survive, too. But the fact is that I exist. And I’m going to make the most of it.
I wish I could just get you to talk to me
I want you to know that I exist
that i’m here
But when I try talking to you I freeze
You scare me
you scare me because I like you so much
and i don’t know what to do with myself
today, my existence is mostly related to grad school. i eat, sleep, breathe my work. it’s not much of an existence at all, actually. grad school anxiety is currently immobilizing and i just feel complete fear, and find it hard to breathe. hopefully things get a little easier. i’m trying to make my existence mean more.
We found existence buried 16 feet under shadows; having been hidden from the earth in the habitual, immortal shade. Shedding crimson light in a full gown of shame, existence hangs its head in the waning moonless streams.
shaded glances
from across the room.
I wonder,
if you know my name,
if you notice my existence.
A dropped pencil,
we both bend.
Inches away,
yet miles apart.