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For that one mutual who asked what the hell Euphoria was, and why just reading a two-sentence description of a scene made me feel like I was gonna throw up. This sounds fascinating and terrifying.

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I’m reading “Font of Fertility” by Breakthebar. The polyamorous protagonist thinks about how wonderful it is to wake up cuddling his girlfriends, and how he can’t believe his good fortune in life. Then he thinks about how much he needs to pee.

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The thought at the root of cosmic horror is “the universe doesn’t care about your feelings.” Something bigger than you can kill you without intent or malice, and no divine force will stop that from happening. Something can be both true and completely incomprehensible to humans, because nothing forces the universe to only work in ways humans understand. Humanity exists now, and at some point in the future, it won’t exist, and the universe will still be here, inching towards heat death.

But the fact that the universe doesn’t care is treated as horrifying, and the universe doesn’t care that you’re horrified! It would be equally valid to view the universe with stoic acceptance, or even to find a perverse thrill in unpredictability. So I feel like cosmic horror misses the point of its own insight.