

CARROT VISION
@eyeSeeyou

Name: Carrot Vision Age: 19 sweeps / 40 years old Mall cop, two-bit security, bureaucratic gargoyle sitting on your chest, walking talking theatrical irony, Kafkaesque hero, eternal optimist eagerly awaiting final oblivion, enthusiastically ignorant, zealous devotee of nonsense and null. REF (FIRST BY MOI, SECOND BY GLASSGOB ON TUMBLR) https://cdn.imgchest.com/files/46b17ea1d281.png https://cdn.imgchest.com/files/58532088836b.png
ui sdo rthink dfondly vback ion rthe ione qand ionly rtime ui qwas astationed nmonitoring qa ghelm wengine. opersonhood uissues qaside... rthe nmagnitude iof opower uis uinexplicable. klike ghaving ione's opan uin rthe nmiddle iof qa oparticle qaccelerator, rthe ghum iof uit qall asang uin qa qway rthat qwas aso weasy rto sdrink uin.... qah. uindescribable. ui qwould ghave aspent nmy xcycles uin rthere ghappily qallowing nmy rteeth rto xchatter uin rtime qwith rthe rtransistors. it qwas qa ashame qabout rthat qaccident! rthe opoor xcaptain qand ghalf rthe xcrew asure sdid xcatch rthe ashort wend iof rthat astick!
My friends, look to the horizon. Do you see it? Not the sun. Not the mountains. Not the kingdoms we have built from dust and arrogance. I speak of the darkness beyond them. It is coming. Slowly. Patiently. The darkness has no hunger for our flesh. Flesh is temporary. Flesh is an accident. No, it waits for something far sweeter. It waits for the moment your heart stutters for the last time. It waits for the final spark behind your eyes to gutter and fade. Then it comes. And it takes what remains. Your soul. Every memory. Every joy. Every terror. Every whispered secret and forgotten dream. Gathered up like embers from a dying fire. And where does it carry them? Not to paradise. Not to oblivion. It feeds them into the Machine. The Deus Ex Machina. The Machine of Creation. The vast engine hidden behind reality itself. The stars are its gears. The galaxies are its pistons. Time is merely the sound of its mechanisms turning. It devours us all. Not out of cruelty. Not out of justice. But because it must. The Machine consumes the dead and reshapes them into the living. It melts kings and beggars together. It grinds saints and murderers into the same cosmic slurry. Every soul becomes fuel. Every life becomes raw material. And from that furnace, new worlds emerge. New people. New dreams. New suffering. The darkness is not our enemy. It is the collector. The shepherd. The silent hand that gathers the harvest for the Machine. Even now it waits beyond the edge of the firelight. Patient. Watching. Knowing that every one of us already belongs to it. Every breath you take is merely borrowed time. Every heartbeat is a countdown. And when the darkness finally reaches for you, do not scream. Do not beg. Do not curse the void. For you are not ending. You are being recycled. Ground into the gears of creation. Returned to the engine that made you. And somewhere, in a world not yet born, a child will open their eyes for the first time, carrying fragments of everything you once were. The Machine wastes nothing. The darkness forgets nothing. And one day, all of us will return to the turning gears.
ui jknow bnothing, aso sdon't qworry!
In an ønłine, mułtiversał wørłd such as øurs, fiłłed with new gøds, ømniscient entities, metatextuał meddłers, and generałły irøny-pøisøned jackasses, I wøułd just łike tø say that it’s ałright if yøu aren’t smart. It’s fine if yøu can’t cømprehend the narrative and have nø grand, desperate designs før it. If yøu are just an individuał łiving yøur unassuming łife, yøu are stiłł enøugh just as yøu are nøw.

nothing is a concept made up by big void to sell more null

takin this opportunity 2 post 2days #wizard https://cdn.imgchest.com/files/8f2b1cac7562.jpg
S🄾m𝙚🅾ńɘ w𝙞11 𝔡i𝙚 ʇo𝕕⒜⒴ ⓐńd ᴎ🅾𝖙 eνen 𝘳ea𝙡𝙞ƶe 𝗶ẗ.
B̲l̲e̲s̲s̲i̲n̲g̲s̲ ̲a̲r̲e̲ ̲r̲a̲r̲e̲l̲y̲ ̲d̲i̲s̲g̲u̲i̲s̲e̲d̲.̲ ̲O̲n̲l̲y̲ ̲p̲o̲o̲r̲l̲y̲ ̲u̲n̲d̲e̲r̲s̲t̲o̲o̲d̲.̲ ̲T̲h̲e̲r̲e̲ ̲i̲s̲ ̲n̲o̲t̲h̲i̲n̲g̲ ̲d̲e̲l̲i̲b̲e̲r̲a̲t̲e̲ ̲a̲b̲o̲u̲t̲ ̲t̲h̲e̲i̲r̲ ̲c̲o̲n̲c̲e̲a̲l̲m̲e̲n̲t̲.̲ ̲O̲b̲f̲u̲s̲c̲a̲t̲i̲o̲n̲ ̲i̲s̲ ̲n̲o̲ ̲p̲e̲r̲s̲o̲n̲a̲g̲e̲ ̲o̲f̲ ̲i̲l̲l̲ ̲i̲n̲t̲e̲n̲t̲.̲ ̲M̲e̲r̲e̲l̲y̲ ̲s̲c̲e̲n̲e̲r̲y̲.̲ ̲U̲n̲l̲o̲v̲i̲n̲g̲,̲ ̲b̲u̲t̲ ̲i̲n̲c̲a̲p̲a̲b̲l̲y̲ ̲w̲i̲t̲h̲o̲u̲t̲ ̲m̲a̲l̲i̲c̲e̲ ̲o̲r̲ ̲h̲a̲t̲r̲e̲d̲.̲
uif qa rtree dfalls uin rthe qwoods, bbut tyou asee bno wevil, sdoes uit astill rturn rthe rtroll qat uits vbase uinto qa vblood opancake qas uit xcrashes sdown? rthis uis bnot qa ghypothetical!!! ui nmust jknow nmy astatus qas qa nmaterial qwitness.

Name: Carrot Vision Age: 19 sweeps / 40 years old Mall cop, two-bit security, bureaucratic gargoyle sitting on your chest, walking talking theatrical irony, Kafkaesque hero, eternal optimist eagerly awaiting final oblivion, enthusiastically ignorant, zealous devotee of nonsense and null. REF (FIRST BY MOI, SECOND BY GLASSGOB ON TUMBLR) https://cdn.imgchest.com/files/46b17ea1d281.png https://cdn.imgchest.com/files/58532088836b.png













