>>103820710>>103820781>>103820873>>103820974>>103821263Honestly, I see a lot of me in this post. My parents were/are both abusive, my brother killed himself because of it.
But I get this post. You're very articulate, you think about this stuff a lot I feel, and I do too, even if I try to forget it as hard as I can a few seconds later.
My brother didn't deserve to die. He was better than me in every way, but I was the one who wound up alive. How does life make any sense after you suffer so much for no reason. Lives that are worth more than yours, that have gone though the same exact things, that dealt with it better in every way, and had a chance to beat the nightmare died. But I lived, and now I'm stuck like a ghost. I can't understand how people think anymore.
People require suffering to be empathetic, otherwise they don't understand why suffering is so bad. Then they realize how bad suffering is and understand why no one should be subjected to it.
Everyone grows up being told that touching a hot stove is bad, and why. But until you feel that unbelievable pain in your hand you don't truly UNDERSTAND. You look around and you see people setting others on fire, branding them with a hot poker, shoving a person's head in boiling water, or holding a match right below their skin, and you're baffled when they talk about how bad it is to touch the stove and why you should never do it yourself or force others to.
Fairness doesn't exist. You know that because whenever something bad happened everyone would tell you that. But those same people would turn around and cry for fairness the second something nowhere near as bad happened to them. Then they scream at you if you even think about pointing this out.
There's all these contradictions, and rules, and platitudes that don't make any sense when you view them as a whole.
Life is anathema to existence. Then everyone says it isn't, but they act like it is.
I'd never read this stuff, but I get your explanation.
