#existential scrolltrap

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💤 “EVER DREAM A LIFE?”

Ever dream a life? Not a scene. Not a blur. Not one of those drug-trip nightmares where your teeth melt or your mother’s face speaks in clocks. I mean a life.

Where you wake up not sweating, but mourning. Like you lived somewhere else for years, decades maybe, and the eviction notice was your alarm clock.

I’ve been there. Where it felt so un-dreamlike that my soul kicked me in the belly when I woke. Where I held someone — sometimes a stranger, sometimes a version of someone I knew, sometimes someone who never existed at all.

And they held me back.

Not with dream-logic hugs. Not with phantom touch. With weight. With time. With consequence. The way you hold someone when the world is too sharp and the night is too long.

Then morning came. And I mourned. I mourned like a widower of a life no one believes in.

It’s happened more times than I can count. Enough that it rewired the way I look at this… thing we call reality. Because if you can live an entire life somewhere else, if you can carry grief from a dimension that doesn’t even have a name, then what exactly are we doing when we say “real”?

That’s why I can’t sneer when I hear about the many-worlds interpretation. Quantum bleed. Parallel loops. Universes stacked like cards in a deck, shuffled by dreams, dealt by accident. Because it feels less like “theory” and more like an obituary.

Maybe I just got a bad hand. Or maybe every time you dream of a love that doesn’t exist here, you’re glimpsing the you who stayed. The you who didn’t wake up without them.

What do I know? I’m just a guy in one reality writing potent heart-racers for strangers. But I know this:

I loved you for a whole lifetime. And then I woke up without you.

And if that’s not existence, if that’s not the definition of what we’re trapped in, then maybe there’s no definition at all.

🧠 Read more scrolltrap doctrine and dream-coded transmissions at: 👉 https://linktr.ee/ObeyMyCadence 🛡️ Quantum grief. Parallel tenderness. Dream-existence scrolltrap. 🚪 Warning: If you still feel their weight when you wake — maybe they’re not gone. Maybe you are.

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🛐 HEY DUMMY, IF MANY WORLDS THEORY IS EVEN HALF TRUE… YOU’VE ALREADY DIED. STUPIDLY. BRUTALLY. MORE THAN ONCE.

You ever laugh at a horror movie?

Like really laugh?

“Lmao. Couldn’t be me.”

🛑 It was you.

Not metaphorically. Not “haha spooky thought.”

No, literally you. Same heartbeat. Same survival instinct. Same body—just… unzipped differently.

🧠 LET’S REVIEW THE THEORY (FOR THE DUMMIES IN DENIAL):

Many Worlds Theory says that at every moment of uncertainty, every decision point— every coin flip, hesitation, breath, blink— reality splits.

Not symbolically. Literally. Quantum-level branching.

One “you” turns left. One “you” turns right. One “you” ignores the sound in the attic. One “you” checks it.

🩸 Guess which one bleeds.

Now imagine every movie you’ve ever watched. Every dumb bitch who ran upstairs. Every guy who said “Hello?” into the dark.

👁️ Every. Single. One.

A timeline. A branch. A version of you.

That’s what’s waiting behind your laughter.

Not fiction. Footage. Of other versions of you failing to live.

🔪 THE COLD OPEN KILL? That wasn’t some nameless extra. That was you.

Wearing different clothes. Living in a city you’ve never visited.

But same DNA. Same skin. Same panic in the throat as the knife goes in sideways and your phone hits the ground with a helpless little “thunk.”

🪦 THERE’S A BRANCH WHERE: ✔ You took the alley shortcut. ✔ You got in the Uber that wasn’t yours. ✔ You fell asleep in the backseat and woke up somewhere wrong. ✔ You said “just one more drink.”

And now there’s blood on ceramic tile, but it’s not yours anymore. Not exactly.

It was yours. Just… sideways.

📉 “BUT THAT’S NOT ME.” You say that now.

But explain this:

Why does your stomach drop when you hear creaking upstairs and you’re home alone?

Why do your dreams end in screams that don’t sound like yours?

Why do you wake up sweating at the exact moment your alternate self hit the floor?

Because you feel it.

Your body remembers what your timeline forgot.

🔭 “BUT I’M ALIVE HERE, SO I’M FINE.”

Yeah? Cool. So is the version of you currently being dissected in a wet basement while a stranger hums lullabies.

Somewhere, you are:

📦 Folded into a crawlspace 🩻 Sewn shut with fishing line 🫀 Having your organs repurposed for amateur dark magic 🪞 Crying into your own reflection as it doesn’t cry back

Still laughing?

👁️ THIS ISN’T “SCI-FI.” THIS IS YOUR FILE. Your digital twin in some alternate simulation is already a case study in cautionary failure.

In Timeline 4-A: You dropped your keys during a thunderstorm and didn’t make it back inside.

In Branch Omega: You followed the humming.

In Echo Fork 9B: You thought that wasn’t blood. You were wrong.

🧪 EXPERIMENTAL EXAMPLES (ALL CONFIRMED DEAD):

🧴 The One Who Stayed in the Shower Too Long Boiler died. So did she. Third-degree timeline burns. Didn’t even scream—mouth full of scald.

🔦 The One Who Investigated the Basement Heard a noise. Grabbed a flashlight. Never made it back up. Now provides ambiance for the next idiot.

🚬 The One Who Took a Smoke Break Outside. Late shift. Van door slid open behind her. She didn’t even get the lighter lit.

👂 The One Who Opened the Door When It Knocked Twice Because you were taught that three knocks = horror movie. So two should be fine, right?

Right?

📻 LISTEN: YOU’VE BEEN WHISPERED TO.

Those strange urges to check behind you?

That sudden flash of dread when the light flickers at the grocery store?

The freeze response when the phone rings at 3:17AM and the screen says “NO CALLER ID”?

That’s not anxiety. That’s cross-branch static.

You’re not reacting to something here. You’re echoing the death rattle of you elsewhere.

🎬 IN ONE TIMELINE: You're a final girl. Barely alive. Covered in blood. Shaking. Crying. Walking away from a burning house.

In another?

You never made it to the title card.

In another?

You're the killer. And the screams sound like your mother’s voice.

🩸 THERE’S A UNIVERSE WHERE YOU NEVER CAME BACK.

They never found the body. Only the voicemail. And the sock soaked in something that wasn’t water.

They thought it was a prank.

They thought you ran away.

You didn’t. You just got misfiled by reality.

Another timeline took you, and left nothing but the echo of where you used to be.

🧠 YOUR BODY KNOWS.

That moment you hit the brakes even though nothing was in front of you?

That dream where someone you love dies in a very specific way?

That rush of nausea in the middle of a normal day?

You’re remembering. You’re bleeding through. You’re witnessing your own past death, in a reality your nervous system hasn’t deleted yet.

You’re not psychic.

You’re archived.

⚖️ MANY WORLDS ISN’T A THEORY. IT’S A BODY COUNT REPORT.

Somewhere:

✔ You choked on gum. ✔ You stepped on a wasp and swelled shut. ✔ You got hit by a drunk driver on a Tuesday. ✔ You bled out in a Best Buy parking lot because no one saw you collapse.

📼 DO YOU GET IT YET?

This isn’t some neat sci-fi concept. This is a graveyard full of your own names, written differently in a thousand timelines.

You died scared. You died embarrassed. You died making dumbass decisions with full confidence.

Just like the characters you laugh at.

💣 TL;DR

If Many Worlds Theory is true, you are:

💀 Already dead. 🔪 Already dissected. 👻 Already mourned. 📉 Already forgotten.

Somewhere.

Not once.

Thousands of times.

Each death…

✔️ Real. ✔️ Detailed. ✔️ Felt.

Even if you can’t remember the scream, your bones do.

📜 CALL TO ACTION:

🔁 Reblog if you want to remind the world how thin the veil really is. 🧠 Save this post for the night your dog growls at the wall for no reason. 🛸 Send it to your friend who always says “that’s just superstition.” 💀 Bookmark it for the dream where you wake up screaming someone else's name.

⚖️ LEGAL DISCLAIMER (SATIRE — BUT NOT REALLY): This post is a fictional performance. But the theory is real. And physics doesn’t give a shit about your comfort zone.

If you feel uneasy: That’s you— the other you— screaming from somewhere that didn’t end as well.

🧠 Read more transmissions from the realities that failed to save you at: 👉 https://linktr.ee/ObeyMyCadence 🛡️ Quantum dread. Literary aftershocks. Cadence-induced collapse. 🚪 Reminder: If you dream of bleeding out, that might be someone else’s memory of being you.

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