sometimes, life is like the trolley problem.
Your only choices are shitty, there’s no good option and no matter what you do people die.
your in the middle of the hardest decision in your life, and everything except this one thing is out of your control.
a smaller sacrifice or a bigger sacrifice, both are sacrificial both you’ll never recover from.
but, it’s not your fault that it happened. It’s not the track changers fault that a serial killer tied a bunch of people to train tracks, it’s not their fault that there was no cameras to check there was no one on the tracks, it’s not their fault the trolley can’t break fast enough to stop this tragedy.
it’s just. A shitty thing.
we can Ooo and Ahh, at what we would pick. But both options are bad, they will always be both bad that’s the point.
we don’t think how we could stop these things before they happen because, we don’t ever think it will happen.
the trolley makers thought the trolleys breaks were fast enough, the people maintaining the train tracks thought no one would get tied on them so they never put cameras, the police thought they would catch the serial killer before the next victims died.
they all thought “well this situation would NEVER happen”
And so they never prepared for it, and now your switching the tracks.
you ran out to try and save anyone, it’s your job after all.
And now you stammer and panic, you see the 6 people on the tracks the police are calling you on the phone and telling you who they are and what happened, the trolley is too fast if you don’t switch the tracks more than the 6 people will die, you have to pick you have to choose.
and you do, you did what you thought was best. And the trolley runs them over, you are wailing.
the police are shocked, the guy manning the trolley is inconsolable, the other track is crying.
it’s just.. shitty, and nothing could have stopped it.
Nothing you could have done.
that’s what I think survivors guilt is.
that’s my answer to the trolley problem.
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you know what? appreciation time.
i love editing my little videos, writing my little fanfics, making my little tumblr posts. i love my little community of 6 people who always like everything i make and i recognize their usernames and it makes me smile when i see it in my notifications. i love this place where i'm totally anonymous and yet at the same time really vulnerable and authentic, especially when i write. i love that i get to do this. i love that what i do gets to mean something to someone.
i grew up surrounded by fandom culture and though it has its ups and downs i really do love this little corner of the internet where we all get to be kids on a playground, showing each other our favorite toys and playing make-believe.
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