Existential Crisis and Expired Milk

> So here’s the thing...

Ever feel like life is just like cellphone signal in a basement? Technically there, but completely useless.

I started questioning life the moment I realized adulthood is basically saying “Nah, it’s fine” while internally screaming, “Bro, I’m so tired.”

It’s wild how tiny problems suddenly feel like global crises. Like when your food order arrives wrong—it’s just food, right? But somehow your soul whispers, “Why does the universe hate me today?”

And don’t get me started on that awkward moment when you say goodbye to someone… then both of you walk the same way. Now you’re walking silently next to them like two exes who never moved on.

One time I shook hands with someone, and they used their left hand. My brain glitched so hard I panicked and ended up shaking both hands like I was asking for their daughter's hand in marriage.

Honestly, I think life is just a collection of weird little moments we try to pretend are normal.

Like laughing at a meme in public, then realizing people are staring at you like you're unstable.

Or when you’re all cozy in bed and suddenly remember you left the light on. Now you’re staring at the ceiling debating whether to sacrifice comfort or crawl toward that cursed switch.

Still, weirdly enough, I feel like this is the good part of life.

Not everything needs to make sense. Sometimes it’s the little absurdities that keep us sane.

Maybe, just maybe, what makes life feel alive is the mess. The randomness. The unfiltered “what the hell just happened” moments.

Like when you walk into a room, then completely forget why you came in. You just stand there for ten seconds like a malfunctioning browser tab.

Or when you’re looking for something… while already holding it. I’ve searched for a spoon while literally holding the spoon. Bro, how am I supposed to fight life’s big challenges when I’m losing to inanimate objects?

Sometimes I think life is like a 10-hour YouTube video of fan noises. It keeps playing and you don’t really know why you’re still watching—but you are.

And the ultimate level of lazy? When you sit with the TV remote for 20 minutes, just holding it, never turning the TV on. That’s not rest. That’s ascension.

Oh, and let’s not forget the 2 AM overthinking. Like, why did I say “thank you” to a chatbot? Am I too polite... or just lonely?

I’ve literally talked to my neighbor’s cat about my quarter-life crisis. The cat just stared at me like, “Bro, I eat bugs and nap all day. Chill.”

But honestly? It’s the little dumb stuff like this that makes life feel full.

Imagine a life that’s too perfect, too scheduled, too... clean. It would be boring. You need a bit of chaos to feel alive.

Happiness, I’ve realized, can be as simple as laughing at a meme that hits too close. Or breathing in the smell of coffee in the morning like you’re in an ad.

And in that one second, you think, “Damn, I can still feel this. That’s something.”

Sometimes we’re so obsessed with chasing the ‘ideal life’ that we forget to experience real life.

These weird moments? They become stories.

Stories we’ll retell someday, grinning like idiots.

Maybe even write about on Vocal... like I just did.

So if your life feels weird, random, unpredictable?

Same here, bro. You’re not alone.

And maybe, just maybe... that’s where the color is.

But here’s the funny part—after all that dramatic overthinking, I opened the fridge and realized I forgot to buy milk. So here I was, standing like some tragic character in a late-night film, holding a box of cereal with absolutely no way to eat it.

I laughed. Like really laughed. Not the polite kind, but the tired, real kind that shakes out of your chest unexpectedly. It felt like life was laughing back at me too, like it was saying, “Bro, chill. You’re doing fine.”

That moment, as ridiculous as it sounds, grounded me. Sometimes, the universe doesn’t respond with answers or signs—just small moments of irony that pull you out of your own head. You realize not everything needs to be so deep. Some nights don’t come with meaning. They just come with empty fridges and cereal boxes and a reminder that you’re still here. Still trying.

And maybe that’s enough.

Not grand.

Not perfect.

But enough.

So I sat back down, cereal untouched, and wrote this. Not to inspire, not to teach, but to capture this tiny little midnight mess of a moment. Because sometimes the most human thing you can do is just sit with yourself and feel it all—quietly, awkwardly, honestly.

So if you're reading this, maybe you’ve had nights like these too. And if you haven’t, one day you probably will. And when that night comes, I hope you remember: you're not weird for feeling too much. You're not alone for overthinking. You're not broken for needing a minute.

You're just human.

And tonight, that’s enough.

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