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forever and ever: uriecorn-phan: dewchan7865: roman-rory-fallen-angel: cuddlemonstercas: flyingbackwards: cuddlemonstercas: oneglitterorgy: urbandictionaryfinds: hidefjesus: I laminated a paper towel why does this have 31 thousand notes You made it useless but also prevented it from the end it was predestined for. But wait this is actually freaking me out though, it raises so many questions about the otherwise incomprehensible meaning of life as a collective whole versus personal sustenance and longevity Imagine if one day you were given a choice: Become immortal and indestructible for eternity, unable to be harmed by anything ever again, and get to live forever. However, in order to achieve that you must give up whatever your purpose in life is. Whatever it is that you were always meant to do, what you were supposed to contribute to the overall scheme and future of the life of the universe, your purpose… the whole reason you were even created, even born in the first place. You must give that up. You don’t know what that is. You’ll never know; But, regardless, you say yes. Perhaps you assume you wouldn’t have made any sort of significant difference anyway. That butterfly effect theory or whatever they call it? Nah, you call bullshit. It doesn’t matter - you don’t matter, at least not to anything outside of your immediate connections - and it’ll all be fine, and you’ll just live forever with minimal (or maybe even no) consequences. So, yay! You’re now immortal. You’ll never die or get hurt ever again. Wee! But then, centuries and centuries later (not to mention that by this point you’ve gone through horrible heartbreak and misery and despair because every loved one you ever had, every friend you ever made, ever person you barely got to know, has passed away, died as you lived on long without them, helpless to do anything for them as you watched them perish, unable to ever go with them or ever see them again. But I digress), now, you learn you actually were important in the grand scheme of things. You were supposed to be a key factor in the world’s survival, long ago; but, because of the choice you made (immortality over individual purpose), you were never given the knowledge or awareness or resources or ability to save the world that you were always supposed to obtain, before you unknowingly made the wrongest choice to ever wrong. Needless to say, you’ve fucked up big time. The entire universe as we know it is destroyed soon after this horrifying revelation. It implodes, collapses in on itself, essentially forming a massive black hole or something. Stars, nebulae, galaxies, solar systems and planets, worlds and worlds of living people and things, and light-years of time and space and life, all sucked up into absolute, indefinite nothingness. But you remain. Just you. Floating amongst, spiraling around, rocketing through, suspended in… nothing. With a feeling of such unbelievable loneliness that your feeble brain can hardly perceive, can’t possibly hope to comprehend. Not only are you the only living thing left, you don’t even have one inanimate object to keep you company. You have literally. Nothing. And you are literally nowhere. I mean, technically, you are now the universe - if it would bring you petty comfort to think about it that way. You. Only you. With nothing, no one, nowhere. Forever. And ever. And ever. All because you thought you didn’t matter. That you had no real, meaningful purpose. That you could never possibly make a difference. But you did. And now look what you’ve gotten yourself into, you silly nugget. You’re gonna be pretty bored and lonely for that eternity, huh? Or maybe it was out of selfishness. Maybe this wasn’t because you felt useless, but because you simply only cared about prolonging your own life and nothing else. Hm. The moral here? Be selfless, and always know and remember that you matter. Or else, one day, you might destroy the universe. And be left to suffer, and be tortured horribly and endlessly by the void of nothingness that has consumed you. With no way to escape. Ever. Other moral because I got sidetracked from my initial point - all things considered, would you choose longevity over purpose? Immortality over meaning?  OR, IDK, MAYBE SOME IDIOT JUST LAMINATED A STUPID PIECE OF PAPER TOWEL FOR NO GOOD REASON AND MAYBE I SHOULDNT BE LOOKING FOR THE ANSWERS TO THE MEANING OF OUR SHORT, FRAGILE LIVES IN A LAMINATED PAPER T OW E L IDK MAN, I D K Write. A. Book. What if I did write a book and the pages of that book were made out of laminated paper towels I WASNT GONNA REBLOG UNTIL THAT LAST COMMENT This messed me up. jfc tumblr
 forever and ever: uriecorn-phan:

dewchan7865:

roman-rory-fallen-angel:

cuddlemonstercas:

flyingbackwards:

cuddlemonstercas:

oneglitterorgy:

urbandictionaryfinds:

hidefjesus:

I laminated a paper towel

why does this have 31 thousand notes

You made it useless but also prevented it from the end it was predestined for.

But wait this is actually freaking me out though, it raises so many questions about the otherwise incomprehensible meaning of life as a collective whole versus personal sustenance and longevity
Imagine if one day you were given a choice: Become immortal and indestructible for eternity, unable to be harmed by anything ever again, and get to live forever.
However, in order to achieve that you must give up whatever your purpose in life is. Whatever it is that you were always meant to do, what you were supposed to contribute to the overall scheme and future of the life of the universe, your purpose… the whole reason you were even created, even born in the first place. You must give that up. You don’t know what that is. You’ll never know; But, regardless, you say yes.
Perhaps you assume you wouldn’t have made any sort of significant difference anyway. That butterfly effect theory or whatever they call it? Nah, you call bullshit. It doesn’t matter - you don’t matter, at least not to anything outside of your immediate connections - and it’ll all be fine, and you’ll just live forever with minimal (or maybe even no) consequences.
So, yay! You’re now immortal. You’ll never die or get hurt ever again. Wee!
But then, centuries and centuries later (not to mention that by this point you’ve gone through horrible heartbreak and misery and despair because every loved one you ever had, every friend you ever made, ever person you barely got to know, has passed away, died as you lived on long without them, helpless to do anything for them as you watched them perish, unable to ever go with them or ever see them again. But I digress), now, you learn you actually were important in the grand scheme of things. You were supposed to be a key factor in the world’s survival, long ago; but, because of the choice you made (immortality over individual purpose), you were never given the knowledge or awareness or resources or ability to save the world that you were always supposed to obtain, before you unknowingly made the wrongest choice to ever wrong.
Needless to say, you’ve fucked up big time.
The entire universe as we know it is destroyed soon after this horrifying revelation. It implodes, collapses in on itself, essentially forming a massive black hole or something. Stars, nebulae, galaxies, solar systems and planets, worlds and worlds of living people and things, and light-years of time and space and life, all sucked up into absolute, indefinite nothingness.
But you remain.
Just you. Floating amongst, spiraling around, rocketing through, suspended in… nothing. With a feeling of such unbelievable loneliness that your feeble brain can hardly perceive, can’t possibly hope to comprehend. Not only are you the only living thing left, you don’t even have one inanimate object to keep you company. You have literally. Nothing. And you are literally nowhere. I mean, technically, you are now the universe - if it would bring you petty comfort to think about it that way. You. Only you. With nothing, no one, nowhere. Forever. And ever. And ever.
All because you thought you didn’t matter. That you had no real, meaningful purpose. That you could never possibly make a difference.
But you did. And now look what you’ve gotten yourself into, you silly nugget. You’re gonna be pretty bored and lonely for that eternity, huh?
Or maybe it was out of selfishness. Maybe this wasn’t because you felt useless, but because you simply only cared about prolonging your own life and nothing else. Hm.
The moral here? Be selfless, and always know and remember that you matter.
Or else, one day, you might destroy the universe. And be left to suffer, and be tortured horribly and endlessly by the void of nothingness that has consumed you. With no way to escape. Ever. 
Other moral because I got sidetracked from my initial point - all things considered, would you choose longevity over purpose? Immortality over meaning? 
OR, IDK, MAYBE SOME IDIOT JUST LAMINATED A STUPID PIECE OF PAPER TOWEL FOR NO GOOD REASON
AND MAYBE I SHOULDNT BE LOOKING FOR THE ANSWERS TO THE MEANING OF OUR SHORT, FRAGILE LIVES IN
A LAMINATED
PAPER
T OW E L
IDK MAN,
I D K

Write. A. Book.

What if I did write a book
and the pages of that book
were made out of
laminated
paper towels

I WASNT GONNA REBLOG UNTIL THAT LAST COMMENT

This messed me up.

jfc tumblr

uriecorn-phan: dewchan7865: roman-rory-fallen-angel: cuddlemonstercas: flyingbackwards: cuddlemonstercas: oneglitterorgy: urbandic...

forever and ever: flyingbackwards onegliterorgy I laminated a paper towel why does this have 31 thousand notes You made it useless but also prevented it from the end it was predestined for But wait this is actualy freaking me out though, it raises so many questions about the otherwise incomprehensible meaning of life as a colective whole versus personal sustenance and lorgevity magine if one day you were given a choice: Become immortal and indestructible for eternity, unable to be harmed by anything ever again, and get to live forever However, in order to achieve that you must give up whatever your purpose in Iife is Whatever i is that you were always meant to do, what you ware supposed to oontribute to the overall schame and future of the Ife of the universe, your purpose...the whole reason you were even created, even born in the first plao0. You must give that up. You don't know what that is. You'll never know; But, regardess, you say yes Perhaps you assume you wouldnt have made any sort of significant ditference anyway. That butterfly effect theory or whatever they call 7 Nah, you call builshit, It doeent matter-you don't matter, at least not to anything outside of your immediate connections-and iI all be fine, and you'l just live forever with minimal (or maybe even no) consequences. So, yay! You're now immortal. You'l never die or get hurt ever again. Wee But then, centuries and centuries later (not to mention that by this point you've gone through homible heartbreak and misery and despair because every loved one you over had, every friand you ever made, ever person you barely got to know, has passed away, died as you lived on long without them, helpless to do anything for them 8s you watched them perish, unable to ever go with them or ever see them again. But I digress), now, you leam you actusly were important in the grand scheme of things. You were supposed to be a key factor in the world's survival, long ago; but, because of the choice you made (immortality over individual purpose),you were never given the knowledge or awareness or resources or ability to save the world that you were aways supposed to abtain, before you unknowingly made the wrongest choice to ever wrong. Needess to say, you've fucked up big time The entire universe as we know it is destroyed soon after this homtying revelation. It implodes, colapses in on itself, essentially forming a massive black hole or something. Stars, nebulae, galaxies, solar systems and planets, worlds and worids of living people and things, and light-years of time and space and ie, all sucked up into absolute, indefinite nothingness But you remain. Just you. Floating amongst, spiraling around, rocketing through, suspended in... nothing. With a feeing of such unbelevable loneliness that your feeble brain can hardy perceive, can't possibly hope to comprehand. Not anly are you the anly lving thing left, you don't even have one Inanimate object to koop you company. You have literaly. Nothing. And you ณจ Iterally nowhere. mean, techrically, you ส now the universe- if it would bring you petty comfort to think about it that way. You. Only you. With nothing, no one, nowhere, Forever. And ever. And ever All because you thought you didnt matter. That you had no real, meaningful purpose. That you could never possibly make a difference But you did. And now look what you've gotten yourself into, you sily nugget. You're gonna be pretty bored and lonely for that eternity, huh? Or maybe it was out of selfishness. Maybe this wasn't because you felt useless, but because you simply only cared about prolonging your own life and nothing ese. Hm The moral here? Be selfess, and always know and remember that you matter Or else, one day, you might destroy the universe. And be left to suffer, and be ortured horribly and endlessly by the void of nothingness that has consumed you With no way to escape. Ever Other moral because I got sidetracked from my initial point-all things considered would you choose longevity aver purpose? Immortality over meaning? OR, IDK, MAYBE SOME IDIOT JUST LAMINATED A STUPID PIECE OF PAPER TOWEL FOR NO GOOD REASON AND MAYBE I SHOULDNT BE LOOKING FOR THE ANSWERS TO THE MEANING OF OUR SHORT, FRAGILE LIVES IN A LAMINATED PAPER TOWEL DK MAN, IDK Write. A. Book. What if I did write a book and the pages of that book were made out of laminated paper towels IWASNT GONNA REBLOG UNTIL THAT LAST COMMENT This messed me up. Originaly posted by brooldynraven Its not that deepomg-humor.tumblr.com
 forever and ever: flyingbackwards
 onegliterorgy
 I laminated a paper towel
 why does this have 31 thousand notes
 You made it useless but also prevented it from the end it was predestined for
 But wait this is actualy freaking me out though, it raises so many questions about
 the otherwise incomprehensible meaning of life as a colective whole versus personal
 sustenance and lorgevity
 magine if one day you were given a choice: Become immortal and indestructible for
 eternity, unable to be harmed by anything ever again, and get to live forever
 However, in order to achieve that you must give up whatever your purpose in Iife is
 Whatever i is that you were always meant to do, what you ware supposed to
 oontribute to the overall schame and future of the Ife of the universe, your
 purpose...the whole reason you were even created, even born in the first plao0. You
 must give that up. You don't know what that is. You'll never know; But, regardess,
 you say yes
 Perhaps you assume you wouldnt have made any sort of significant ditference
 anyway. That butterfly effect theory or whatever they call 7 Nah, you call builshit, It
 doeent matter-you don't matter, at least not to anything outside of your immediate
 connections-and iI all be fine, and you'l just live forever with minimal (or maybe
 even no) consequences.
 So, yay! You're now immortal. You'l never die or get hurt ever again. Wee
 But then, centuries and centuries later (not to mention that by this point you've gone
 through homible heartbreak and misery and despair because every loved one you
 over had, every friand you ever made, ever person you barely got to know, has
 passed away, died as you lived on long without them, helpless to do anything for
 them 8s you watched them perish, unable to ever go with them or ever see them
 again. But I digress), now, you leam you actusly were important in the grand
 scheme of things. You were supposed to be a key factor in the world's survival, long
 ago; but, because of the choice you made (immortality over individual purpose),you
 were never given the knowledge or awareness or resources or ability to save the
 world that you were aways supposed to abtain, before you unknowingly made the
 wrongest choice to ever wrong.
 Needess to say, you've fucked up big time
 The entire universe as we know it is destroyed soon after this homtying revelation. It
 implodes, colapses in on itself, essentially forming a massive black hole or
 something. Stars, nebulae, galaxies, solar systems and planets, worlds and worids
 of living people and things, and light-years of time and space and ie, all sucked up
 into absolute, indefinite nothingness
 But you remain.
 Just you. Floating amongst, spiraling around, rocketing through, suspended in...
 nothing. With a feeing of such unbelevable loneliness that your feeble brain can
 hardy perceive, can't possibly hope to comprehand. Not anly are you the anly lving
 thing left, you don't even have one Inanimate object to koop you company. You have
 literaly. Nothing. And you ณจ Iterally nowhere. mean, techrically, you ส now the
 universe- if it would bring you petty comfort to think about it that way. You. Only
 you. With nothing, no one, nowhere, Forever. And ever. And ever
 All because you thought you didnt matter. That you had no real, meaningful
 purpose. That you could never possibly make a difference
 But you did. And now look what you've gotten yourself into, you sily nugget. You're
 gonna be pretty bored and lonely for that eternity, huh?
 Or maybe it was out of selfishness. Maybe this wasn't because you felt useless, but
 because you simply only cared about prolonging your own life and nothing ese. Hm
 The moral here? Be selfess, and always know and remember that you matter
 Or else, one day, you might destroy the universe. And be left to suffer, and be
 ortured horribly and endlessly by the void of nothingness that has consumed you
 With no way to escape. Ever
 Other moral because I got sidetracked from my initial point-all things considered
 would you choose longevity aver purpose? Immortality over meaning?
 OR, IDK, MAYBE SOME IDIOT JUST LAMINATED A STUPID PIECE OF PAPER
 TOWEL FOR NO GOOD REASON
 AND MAYBE I SHOULDNT BE LOOKING FOR THE ANSWERS TO THE
 MEANING OF OUR SHORT, FRAGILE LIVES IN
 A LAMINATED
 PAPER
 TOWEL
 DK MAN,
 IDK
 Write. A. Book.
 What if I did write a book
 and the pages of that book
 were made out of
 laminated
 paper towels
 IWASNT GONNA REBLOG UNTIL THAT LAST COMMENT
 This messed me up.
 Originaly posted by brooldynraven
Its not that deepomg-humor.tumblr.com

Its not that deepomg-humor.tumblr.com

forever and ever: dewchan7865: roman-rory-fallen-angel: cuddlemonstercas: flyingbackwards: cuddlemonstercas: oneglitterorgy: urbandictionaryfinds: hidefjesus: I laminated a paper towel why does this have 31 thousand notes You made it useless but also prevented it from the end it was predestined for. But wait this is actually freaking me out though, it raises so many questions about the otherwise incomprehensible meaning of life as a collective whole versus personal sustenance and longevity Imagine if one day you were given a choice: Become immortal and indestructible for eternity, unable to be harmed by anything ever again, and get to live forever. However, in order to achieve that you must give up whatever your purpose in life is. Whatever it is that you were always meant to do, what you were supposed to contribute to the overall scheme and future of the life of the universe, your purpose… the whole reason you were even created, even born in the first place. You must give that up. You don’t know what that is. You’ll never know; But, regardless, you say yes. Perhaps you assume you wouldn’t have made any sort of significant difference anyway. That butterfly effect theory or whatever they call it? Nah, you call bullshit. It doesn’t matter - you don’t matter, at least not to anything outside of your immediate connections - and it’ll all be fine, and you’ll just live forever with minimal (or maybe even no) consequences. So, yay! You’re now immortal. You’ll never die or get hurt ever again. Wee! But then, centuries and centuries later (not to mention that by this point you’ve gone through horrible heartbreak and misery and despair because every loved one you ever had, every friend you ever made, ever person you barely got to know, has passed away, died as you lived on long without them, helpless to do anything for them as you watched them perish, unable to ever go with them or ever see them again. But I digress), now, you learn you actually were important in the grand scheme of things. You were supposed to be a key factor in the world’s survival, long ago; but, because of the choice you made (immortality over individual purpose), you were never given the knowledge or awareness or resources or ability to save the world that you were always supposed to obtain, before you unknowingly made the wrongest choice to ever wrong. Needless to say, you’ve fucked up big time. The entire universe as we know it is destroyed soon after this horrifying revelation. It implodes, collapses in on itself, essentially forming a massive black hole or something. Stars, nebulae, galaxies, solar systems and planets, worlds and worlds of living people and things, and light-years of time and space and life, all sucked up into absolute, indefinite nothingness. But you remain. Just you. Floating amongst, spiraling around, rocketing through, suspended in… nothing. With a feeling of such unbelievable loneliness that your feeble brain can hardly perceive, can’t possibly hope to comprehend. Not only are you the only living thing left, you don’t even have one inanimate object to keep you company. You have literally. Nothing. And you are literally nowhere. I mean, technically, you are now the universe - if it would bring you petty comfort to think about it that way. You. Only you. With nothing, no one, nowhere. Forever. And ever. And ever. All because you thought you didn’t matter. That you had no real, meaningful purpose. That you could never possibly make a difference. But you did. And now look what you’ve gotten yourself into, you silly nugget. You’re gonna be pretty bored and lonely for that eternity, huh? Or maybe it was out of selfishness. Maybe this wasn’t because you felt useless, but because you simply only cared about prolonging your own life and nothing else. Hm. The moral here? Be selfless, and always know and remember that you matter. Or else, one day, you might destroy the universe. And be left to suffer, and be tortured horribly and endlessly by the void of nothingness that has consumed you. With no way to escape. Ever. Other moral because I got sidetracked from my initial point - all things considered, would you choose longevity over purpose? Immortality over meaning?  OR, IDK, MAYBE SOME IDIOT JUST LAMINATED A STUPID PIECE OF PAPER TOWEL FOR NO GOOD REASON AND MAYBE I SHOULDNT BE LOOKING FOR THE ANSWERS TO THE MEANING OF OUR SHORT, FRAGILE LIVES IN A LAMINATED PAPER T OW E L IDK MAN, I D K Write. A. Book. What if I did write a book and the pages of that book were made out of laminated paper towels I WASNT GONNA REBLOG UNTIL THAT LAST COMMENT This messed me up.
 forever and ever: dewchan7865:

roman-rory-fallen-angel:

cuddlemonstercas:

flyingbackwards:

cuddlemonstercas:

oneglitterorgy:

urbandictionaryfinds:

hidefjesus:

I laminated a paper towel

why does this have 31 thousand notes

You made it useless but also prevented it from the end it was predestined for.

But wait this is actually freaking me out though, it raises so many questions about the otherwise incomprehensible meaning of life as a collective whole versus personal sustenance and longevity
Imagine if one day you were given a choice: Become immortal and indestructible for eternity, unable to be harmed by anything ever again, and get to live forever.
However, in order to achieve that you must give up whatever your purpose in life is. Whatever it is that you were always meant to do, what you were supposed to contribute to the overall scheme and future of the life of the universe, your purpose… the whole reason you were even created, even born in the first place. You must give that up. You don’t know what that is. You’ll never know; But, regardless, you say yes.
Perhaps you assume you wouldn’t have made any sort of significant difference anyway. That butterfly effect theory or whatever they call it? Nah, you call bullshit. It doesn’t matter - you don’t matter, at least not to anything outside of your immediate connections - and it’ll all be fine, and you’ll just live forever with minimal (or maybe even no) consequences.
So, yay! You’re now immortal. You’ll never die or get hurt ever again. Wee!
But then, centuries and centuries later (not to mention that by this point you’ve gone through horrible heartbreak and misery and despair because every loved one you ever had, every friend you ever made, ever person you barely got to know, has passed away, died as you lived on long without them, helpless to do anything for them as you watched them perish, unable to ever go with them or ever see them again. But I digress), now, you learn you actually were important in the grand scheme of things. You were supposed to be a key factor in the world’s survival, long ago; but, because of the choice you made (immortality over individual purpose), you were never given the knowledge or awareness or resources or ability to save the world that you were always supposed to obtain, before you unknowingly made the wrongest choice to ever wrong.
Needless to say, you’ve fucked up big time.
The entire universe as we know it is destroyed soon after this horrifying revelation. It implodes, collapses in on itself, essentially forming a massive black hole or something. Stars, nebulae, galaxies, solar systems and planets, worlds and worlds of living people and things, and light-years of time and space and life, all sucked up into absolute, indefinite nothingness.
But you remain.
Just you. Floating amongst, spiraling around, rocketing through, suspended in… nothing. With a feeling of such unbelievable loneliness that your feeble brain can hardly perceive, can’t possibly hope to comprehend. Not only are you the only living thing left, you don’t even have one inanimate object to keep you company. You have literally. Nothing. And you are literally nowhere. I mean, technically, you are now the universe - if it would bring you petty comfort to think about it that way. You. Only you. With nothing, no one, nowhere. Forever. And ever. And ever.
All because you thought you didn’t matter. That you had no real, meaningful purpose. That you could never possibly make a difference.
But you did. And now look what you’ve gotten yourself into, you silly nugget. You’re gonna be pretty bored and lonely for that eternity, huh?
Or maybe it was out of selfishness. Maybe this wasn’t because you felt useless, but because you simply only cared about prolonging your own life and nothing else. Hm.
The moral here? Be selfless, and always know and remember that you matter.
Or else, one day, you might destroy the universe. And be left to suffer, and be tortured horribly and endlessly by the void of nothingness that has consumed you. With no way to escape. Ever. 
Other moral because I got sidetracked from my initial point - all things considered, would you choose longevity over purpose? Immortality over meaning? 
OR, IDK, MAYBE SOME IDIOT JUST LAMINATED A STUPID PIECE OF PAPER TOWEL FOR NO GOOD REASON
AND MAYBE I SHOULDNT BE LOOKING FOR THE ANSWERS TO THE MEANING OF OUR SHORT, FRAGILE LIVES IN
A LAMINATED
PAPER
T OW E L
IDK MAN,
I D K

Write. A. Book.

What if I did write a book
and the pages of that book
were made out of
laminated
paper towels

I WASNT GONNA REBLOG UNTIL THAT LAST COMMENT

This messed me up.

dewchan7865: roman-rory-fallen-angel: cuddlemonstercas: flyingbackwards: cuddlemonstercas: oneglitterorgy: urbandictionaryfinds: h...

forever and ever: beauty snake somewhat-grump a dewchan7865 roman-rory-fallen-angel: cuddlemonstercas: flyingbackwards: cuddlemonstercas oneglitterorgy urbandictionaryfinds: hidefjesus: I laminated a paper towel why does this have 31 thousand notes You made it useless but also prevented it from the end it was predestined for. But wait this is acually freaking me out though, it raises so many questions about the otherwise incomprehensible meaning of life as a collective whole versus personal sustenance and longevity Imagine if one day you were given a choice: Become immortal and indestructible for eternity, unable to be harmed by anything ever again, and get to live forever. However, in order to achieve that you must give up whatever your purpose in life is. Whatever it is that you were always meant to do, what you were supposed to contribute to the overall scheme and future of the life of the universe, your purpose. the whole reason you were even created, even born in the first place. You must give that up. You don't know what that is. You'll never know, But, regardless, you say yes. Perhaps you assume you wouldn't have made any sort of significant difference anyway. That butterfly effect theory or whatever they call it? Nah, you call bullshit. It doesn't matter - you don't matter, at least not to anything outside of your immediate connections - and it'll all be fine, and you'll just live forever with minimal (or maybe even no) consequences. So, yay! You're now immortal. You'll never die or get hurt ever again. Weel But then, centuries and centuries later (not to mention that by this point you've gone through horrible heartbreak and misery and despair because every loved one you ever had, every friend you ever made, ever person you barely got to know, has passed away, died as you lived on long without them, helpless to do anything for them as you watched them perish, unable to ever go with them or ever see them again. But I digress). now, you leam you actually were important in the grand scheme of things. You were supposed to be a key factor in the world's survival, long ago; but, because of the choice you made (immortality over individual purpose), you were never given the knowledge or awareness or resources or ability to save the world that you were always supposed to obtain, before you unknowingly made the wrongest choice to ever wrong. Needless to say, you've fucked up big time. The entire universe as we know it is destroyed soon after this horifying revelation. It implodes, collapses in on itself, essentially forming a massive black hole or something. Stars, nebulae, galaxies, solar systems and planets, worlds and worlds of living people and things, and light-years of time and space and life, all sucked up into absolute, indefinite nothingness. But you remain. Just you. Floating amongst, spiraling around, rocketing through, suspended in. nothing. With a feeling of such unbelievable loneliness that your feeble brain can hardly perceive, can't possibly hope to comprehend. Not only are you the only living thing left, you don't even have one inanimate object to keep you company. You have literally. Nothing. And you are literally nowhere. I mean, technically, you are now the universe - if it would bring you petty comfort to think about it that way. You. Only you. With nothing, no one, nowhere. Forever. And ever And ever All because you thought you didn't matter. That you had no real, meaningful purpose. That you could never possibly make a difference. But you did. And now look what you've gotten yourself into, you silly nugget. You're gonna be pretty bored and lonely for that eternity, huh? Or maybe it was out of selfishness. Maybe this wasn't because you felt useless, but because you simply only cared about prolonging your own life and nothing else. Hm. The moral here? Be selfless, and always know and remember that you matter. Or else, one day, you might destroy the universe. And be left to suffer, and be tortured horribly and endlessly by the void of nothingness that has consumed you. With no way to escape. Ever. Other moral because I got sidetracked from my initial point - all things considered, would you choose longevity over purpose? Immortality over meaning? OR, IDK, MAYBE SOME IDIOT JUST LAMINATEDA STUPID PIECE OF PAPER TOWEL FOR NO GOOD REASON AND MAYBE I SHOULDNT BE LOOKING FOR THE ANSWERS TO THE MEANING OF OUR SHORT, FRAGILE LIVES IN A LAMINATED PAPER T OW EL IDK MAN. IDK Write. A Book What if I did write a book and the pages of that book were made out of laminated paper towels I WASNT GONNA REBLOG UNTIL THAT LAST COMMENT This messed me up. Source: shittybreadybun 478,319 notes A Laminated Paper Towelomg-humor.tumblr.com
 forever and ever: beauty snake
 somewhat-grump a
 dewchan7865
 roman-rory-fallen-angel:
 cuddlemonstercas:
 flyingbackwards:
 cuddlemonstercas
 oneglitterorgy
 urbandictionaryfinds:
 hidefjesus:
 I laminated a paper towel
 why does this have 31 thousand notes
 You made it useless but also prevented it from the end it
 was predestined for.
 But wait this is acually freaking me out though, it raises so
 many questions about the otherwise incomprehensible meaning
 of life as a collective whole versus personal sustenance and
 longevity
 Imagine if one day you were given a choice: Become immortal
 and indestructible for eternity, unable to be harmed by anything
 ever again, and get to live forever.
 However, in order to achieve that you must give up whatever
 your purpose in life is. Whatever it is that you were always
 meant to do, what you were supposed to contribute to the
 overall scheme and future of the life of the universe, your
 purpose. the whole reason you were even created, even born
 in the first place. You must give that up. You don't know what
 that is. You'll never know, But, regardless, you say yes.
 Perhaps you assume you wouldn't have made any sort of
 significant difference anyway. That butterfly effect theory or
 whatever they call it? Nah, you call bullshit. It doesn't matter -
 you don't matter, at least not to anything outside of your
 immediate connections - and it'll all be fine, and you'll just live
 forever with minimal (or maybe even no) consequences.
 So, yay! You're now immortal. You'll never die or get hurt ever
 again. Weel
 But then, centuries and centuries later (not to mention that by
 this point you've gone through horrible heartbreak and misery
 and despair because every loved one you ever had, every friend
 you ever made, ever person you barely got to know, has passed
 away, died as you lived on long without them, helpless to do
 anything for them as you watched them perish, unable to ever
 go with them or ever see them again. But I digress). now, you
 leam you actually were important in the grand scheme of things.
 You were supposed to be a key factor in the world's survival,
 long ago; but, because of the choice you made (immortality over
 individual purpose), you were never given the knowledge or
 awareness or resources or ability to save the world that you
 were always supposed to obtain, before you unknowingly made
 the wrongest choice to ever wrong.
 Needless to say, you've fucked up big time.
 The entire universe as we know it is destroyed soon after this
 horifying revelation. It implodes, collapses in on itself,
 essentially forming a massive black hole or something. Stars,
 nebulae, galaxies, solar systems and planets, worlds and worlds
 of living people and things, and light-years of time and space
 and life, all sucked up into absolute, indefinite nothingness.
 But you remain.
 Just you. Floating amongst, spiraling around, rocketing through,
 suspended in. nothing. With a feeling of such unbelievable
 loneliness that your feeble brain can hardly perceive, can't
 possibly hope to comprehend. Not only are you the only living
 thing left, you don't even have one inanimate object to keep you
 company. You have literally. Nothing. And you are literally
 nowhere. I mean, technically, you are now the universe - if it
 would bring you petty comfort to think about it that way. You.
 Only you. With nothing, no one, nowhere. Forever. And ever
 And ever
 All because you thought you didn't matter. That you had no
 real, meaningful purpose. That you could never possibly make a
 difference.
 But you did. And now look what you've gotten yourself into, you
 silly nugget. You're gonna be pretty bored and lonely for that
 eternity, huh?
 Or maybe it was out of selfishness. Maybe this wasn't because
 you felt useless, but because you simply only cared about
 prolonging your own life and nothing else. Hm.
 The moral here? Be selfless, and always know and remember
 that you matter.
 Or else, one day, you might destroy the universe. And be left to
 suffer, and be tortured horribly and endlessly by the void of
 nothingness that has consumed you. With no way to escape.
 Ever.
 Other moral because I got sidetracked from my initial point - all
 things considered, would you choose longevity over purpose?
 Immortality over meaning?
 OR, IDK, MAYBE SOME IDIOT JUST LAMINATEDA STUPID
 PIECE OF PAPER TOWEL FOR NO GOOD REASON
 AND MAYBE I SHOULDNT BE LOOKING FOR THE
 ANSWERS TO THE MEANING OF OUR SHORT, FRAGILE
 LIVES IN
 A LAMINATED
 PAPER
 T OW EL
 IDK MAN.
 IDK
 Write. A Book
 What if I did write a book
 and the pages of that book
 were made out of
 laminated
 paper towels
 I WASNT GONNA REBLOG UNTIL THAT LAST COMMENT
 This messed me up.
 Source: shittybreadybun
 478,319 notes
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A Laminated Paper Towelomg-humor.tumblr.com