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Plato was right: the body is a prison, and most days it feels like one built out of rotting walls and flickering lights. You wake up already confined, dragged back into the weight of flesh you never asked for. Bones creak like rusted hinges, muscles tighten like locked doors, and every heartbeat is another reminder that you’re trapped inside something that ages, decays, and betrays you slowly.
The body is not gentle about its authority. It interrupts every moment with some new reminder that you do not have control. You cannot think clearly when your stomach twists. You cannot dream freely when your spine aches. You cannot pretend you are limitless when your lungs burn after a short run or your hands shake for no reason. These are not simple inconveniences. They are the rules of the cell you live in.
There’s a mind in here—something vast, restless, starving for air—but it’s sealed behind skin, forced to watch the world through two fragile windows that blur and dry and fail. The soul strains against its cage, but the bars only dig deeper. Hunger, pain, exhaustion… they circle like guards doing their nightly rounds, making sure you never forget where you are.
The body demands, and you obey. It hurts, and you endure. It breaks, and you’re dragged down with it. Maybe that’s the most terrifying part: you can feel the walls closing in, day by day, and there’s nothing to do but wait. Plato didn’t exaggerate—he barely scratched the truth. This body isn’t a vessel. It’s a cell. And the sentence is lifelong.
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whoah
I think about death a lot, the thought hit me like a truck 2 months ago when I was just chilling and suddenly REALLY thought about what would happen when I die and realized nobody actually has a clue regarding what happens, I'm young and fit but I and my loved ones wont be forever. I kicked that can down the road for 18 years and now, every time im in the shower or idle I'm thinking about how much dying is going to suck, I'll never chill and fix cars with my brother again, I'll never drive out to a creek and shoot the shit with my friends again
It's wishful thinking to imagine that I'll be able to enjoy an eternity with my loved ones when I die, I REALLY want that to be the case but I have no guarantees. Now I often have this feeling in my gut, like when you're about to something really scary like going on a roller coaster or exploring some ratchet cave, I don't care about where I end up but I don't want to be separated from the people I love. It's my only qualm with dying
⋆˚࿔ Mikachau!!
wow okay