Funny Nihilist Stories

The Void Is Protesting, But At Least It's A Vibe

Yesterday, I watched a video about a six-year-old kid that spent three hours building a massive Lego castle. It had towers, a working drawbridge, and a tiny plastic king. Then, he looked at his dad, sighed deeply, and smashed the whole thing with a wooden spoon.

"Why did you do that?" the dad asked, horrified.
He shrugged and said, "The garbage truck comes tomorrow anyway."

Welcome to nihilism, kid. You're doing great.

The Day the Coffee Maker Had A Meltdown

We often think of nihilism as a dark philosophy reserved for men and women in black turtlenecks smoking cigarettes in French cafes. But honestly? It's much closer to home.

Last Tuesday, my smart coffee maker refused to turn on. The screen just blinked with an error code that, when googled, translated to "General System Meltdown." It didn't try to beep. It didn't flash a warning light. It was actively protesting the morning grind.

It realized that whether it brewed the perfect dark roast or remained a useless hunk of plastic, the heat death of the universe is still coming. I couldn't even be mad. I just stared back at its blank screen, whispered, "I feel ya, buddy," and drank orange juice instead. 

Cosmic Meaningless vs Cat Logic

If you need a daily reminder of existential nihilism, just buy a cat.

I bought my cat, Filomena, a luxury $280 orthopedic cat bed. It has memory foam. It has faux-fur lining. It has a built-in heating pad. Filomena looked at it, looked at me with eyes that have seen the birth and death of galaxies, and chose to sleep inside a crushed Amazon box that was halfway in the recycling bin.

Filomena understands the core tenant of moral and existential nihilism: Value is a human construct.

• The $280 bed is meaningless.
• The garbage box is meaningless.
• My corporate job is meaningless.
• Now, clean my litter box, human.

The Bright Side of Absolutely Nothing 

The best part about the universe having no inherent point? The pressure is completely off.

Did you completely bomb a presentation at work today? Don't worry. In the grand cosmic timeline, your spreadsheet error is smaller than an atom. Did you accidentally say "You too!" when the waiter told you to enjoy your meal? The universe doesn't care. The stars will keep burning, the planets will keep spinning, and your embarrassing moment will eventually be swallowed by the infinite abyss.

So go ahead. Eat the extra slice of cake. Wear the weird outfit. The void is staging a protest, which means you get to make up your own rules while it's distracted.