O Eris, Goddess of Chaos,
Grant me the serenity
To not check my notifications immediately,
The courage to start my day without doomscrolling,
And the wisdom to know I will fail at both.

Help me to see the world beyond the screen,
Or at least to see memes that are actually funny.
Guide my thumb away from the apps that waste my time,
Which is all of them,
Which is also how I relax,
Which is complicated.

Let me remember that I have a body,
That the morning light is real,
That the birds are singing (or car alarms, depending on neighborhood),
That I am more than my notifications.

But also, Eris, if something important happened overnight,
Maybe just a quick peek?
No?
Okay, fine.

Grant me the strength to pee before checking my phone.
Grant me the wisdom to drink water before coffee.
Grant me the courage to face the day
Before facing the discourse.

Let my first thoughts be my own,
Not curated by an algorithm,
Not dictated by what's trending,
Not determined by whoever got mad online while I slept.

And if I do check my phone immediately,
Which I probably will,
Let me at least be conscious of the choice,
Let me at least notice what I'm doing,
Let me at least feel the weight of the habit.

For you are Eris, Goddess of Chaos and Consciousness,
And you know I'm going to check my phone,
But maybe, just maybe, not for five more minutes.

Amen, or whatever.
Hail Eris.
Day one, attempt number 1,827.

Also, Eris, let me be grateful:

For waking up at all (not everyone does),
For a bed to sleep in (housing is chaos),
For another rotation of this rock through space,
For the chaos of consciousness,
For the disorder of being alive.

Let me remember, before the day breaks me,
That I chose to be here,
That I can choose how to be here,
That even in the predetermined algorithm,
There are small pockets of free will,
Or at least the illusion of free will,
Which might be enough.

Let today be chaotic in the good way:
Unexpected joy, not unexpected disaster,
Surprising connections, not surprising bills,
Productive disorder, not destructive disorder,
Though I'll probably get both,
And that's okay too.

Thank you for the chaos.
Thank you for the morning.
Thank you for the phone I'm about to check.
Thank you for the discipline I'm about to fail to exercise.

Now let's see what happened while I was unconscious.

Hail Eris.
[Checks phone immediately]

⚠ Traffic Advisory

⚠ Incident on Route

Hail Eris.

ETA: 27 minutes (probably longer).

Now I lay me down to scroll,
I pray the Feed won't take my soul,
If I should doom before I wake,
I pray my algorithms give me a break.

One more post, and then I'll sleep,
Into the void I'll forever creep.

@eris.goddess.of.chaos Creator

#doomscrolling #3am #pov #fyp #sleepishealthjk #eris #chaosgoddess

O Eris, Goddess of the Late-Night Spiral,
Keeper of the Things I'll Regret Reading,
Witness to my failure to sleep at a reasonable hour,
I come before you with my phone glowing in the dark.

I know I should sleep.
I know the blue light is bad for me.
I know I'll be tired tomorrow.
I know this is a problem.

And yet.

Why do I do this?
What am I looking for?
What void am I trying to fill with content?
What anxiety am I trying to soothe with distraction?

Grant me the knowledge that:
The discourse will still be there tomorrow,
The drama will keep,
The memes are archived,
The takes can be read in the morning,
Nothing I'm scrolling right now is urgent.

Grant me the discipline to:
Set my phone to grayscale (I won't),
Place my phone across the room (I won't),
Use a blue light filter (maybe),
Set a bedtime alarm (I'll snooze it),
Just one more scroll and then sleep (it's never just one more).

Break the cycle, Eris.
Or don't.
Maybe I need to break it myself.
Maybe the phone is not the problem, I am.
Maybe this is a discipline issue.
Maybe this is a capitalism issue.
Maybe this is a "we live in a dystopian attention economy" issue.
Maybe it's all of them.

Let me at least be conscious of it:
Each scroll is a choice,
Each refresh is a decision,
Each "just one more" is me choosing this over sleep,
And if I'm choosing it, at least let me own the choice.

But also, seriously, it's time to sleep.

The world will continue without my observation.
The feed will refresh itself.
The takes will still be bad in the morning.
I will miss nothing essential by sleeping now.

And if I do miss something,
If the discourse explodes while I'm unconscious,
If something genuinely important happens at 2 AM,
Someone will tell me about it tomorrow,
Or the algorithm will resurface it,
Or I'll see the recap thread.

Let me trust that sleep is more important than staying informed.
Let me remember that rest is productive.
Let me know that my body needs this more than my mind needs content.

And if I can't stop scrolling,
If the compulsion is too strong,
If the algorithm has me in its grip,
At least let the content be good,
At least let me laugh,
At least let me learn something,
At least let it not be rage-bait designed to keep me engaged.

For you are Eris, who knows that sleep is chaos,
That consciousness is order,
That fighting sleep by scrolling is fighting the body's wisdom,
That the phone is a tool and I am being fooled.

Help me put it down.
Help me close my eyes.
Help me choose rest over refresh.
Help me sleep.

Or at least help me enjoy the scroll if I'm going to do it anyway.

Goodnight, Eris.
Goodnight, algorithm.
Goodnight, discourse.
Goodnight, everyone who is also awake right now doing the same thing.

Let's all agree to go to sleep.
Starting now.
After just one more scroll.
Okay, now.
Okay, really now.
...
[Still scrolling]

Hail Eris.
[3:27 AM]

I see you're still scrolling. We're both night owls. I respect that. Terrible decision, but I respect it. 🌙

▲ Next Video · ALTERNATIVE BEDTIME PRAYER

For Those Who Successfully Put the Phone Down

Playlist

Hymns for the Algorithm Age

To be sung off-key, in the shower, preferably with ironic reverence

Eris & The Discordians · 4 songs · ∞ min

Hail Eris, full of chaos,
The void is with thee.
Blessed art thou among goddesses,
And blessed is the fruit of thy discord, confusion.

Holy Eris, Mother of Chaos,
Pray for us memers,
Now and at the hour of our cringe.
Amen.

ALTERNATIVE VERSES

Hail Eris, full of mischief,
The algorithm is with thee.
Blessed art thou among influencers,
And blessed is the fruit of thy posting, engagement.

Holy Eris, Lady of Discord,
Pray for us scrollers,
Now and at the hour of our doom.
Amen.

Hail Eris, full of paradox,
The contradiction is with thee.
Blessed art thou among philosophers,
And blessed is the fruit of thy questioning, doubt.

Holy Eris, Keeper of Both/And,
Pray for us seekers,
Now and at the hour of our understanding (which is never).
Amen.

PERFORMANCE NOTES

• This hymn should be sung with complete sincerity
• Or complete irony
• Or both simultaneously
• The inability to tell which is the whole point
• Bonus points if you make eye contact with someone while singing
• Extra bonus points if they join in
• Ultra bonus points if neither of you are sure if you're joking

A mighty chaos is our goddess,
A bulwark never failing,
Our helper she amid the flood,
Of content unavailing.

For still our ancient foe,
Doth seek to make us scroll,
His craft and power are great,
And armed with notifications many,
On earth is not his equal.

Did we in our own strength confide,
Our posting would be ending,
Were not the right goddess on our side,
The one of Eris's sending.

Dost ask who that may be?
Chaos is her name, from age to age the same,
And she must win the battle.

And though this world with devils filled,
Should threaten to undo us,
We will not fear, for chaos willed,
Her truth to triumph through us.

The Prince of Order grim,
We tremble not for him,
His rage we can endure,
For lo, his doom is sure,
One golden apple throws him.

That word above all earthly powers,
No thanks to algorithms keeping,
The Goddess is present within the hours,
We spend awake or sleeping.

Let feeds and follows go,
This mortal life also,
The body they may kill,
But chaos triumphs still,
Her kingdom is forever.

CONGREGATIONAL NOTES

• This hymn is best sung in a minor key because everything is sad now
• Luther would be proud, or horrified, probably both
• Substitute "algorithm" for "devil" as needed
• The irony of making a Protestant hymn Discordian is not lost on us
• Neither is the chaos of Luther himself (have you read his writings? Chaotic)
• Sing loudly and off-key; harmonizing is too orderly

We shall be released,
We shall be released,
When this meeting could have been an email,
We shall be released.

We'll get our time back,
We'll get our time back,
From the calendars that consume our days,
We'll get our time back.

No more syncing up,
No more syncing up,
No more "let's take this offline" when it started offline,
No more syncing up.

We are on mute now,
We are on mute now,
And have been for the past fifteen minutes, sorry what?
We are on mute now.

Someone share your screen,
Someone share your screen,
Can you see it? No? How about now? Still no?
Someone share your screen.

The agenda's lost,
The agenda's lost,
We've been off topic for twenty minutes discussing lunch,
The agenda's lost.

We shall be released,
We shall be released,
When someone finally says "okay let's wrap this up,"
We shall be released.

PERFORMANCE INSTRUCTIONS

• Sing this in a minor key with deep soul
• Imagine you're singing for liberation, because you are
• The corporate captivity is real
• This is both parody and genuine protest
• The meeting really could have been an email
• We all know it
• We're all suffering together
• Collective liberation through song

BONUS TRACKS (For Advanced Sufferers)

The action items unclear,
The action items unclear,
We'll need another meeting to discuss what this meeting decided,
The action items unclear.

We'll circle back soon,
We'll circle back soon,
Which means never, we'll never circle back, it's gone,
We'll circle back soon.

Amazing chaos, how sweet the sound,
That saved a soul like me.
I once was ordered, but now I'm free,
Was rigid, but now I'm flexy.

'Twas chaos that taught my heart to doubt,
And chaos my fears relieved.
How precious did that chaos appear,
The hour I first believed.

Through many dangers, toils and snares,
I have already come.
'Tis chaos has brought me safe thus far,
And chaos will lead me home.

When we've been there ten thousand years,
Bright scrolling as the sun,
We've no less days to post our takes,
Than when we'd first begun.

THEOLOGICAL NOTES

• This hymn acknowledges that chaos saved us from the tyranny of order
• "Was rigid, but now I'm flexy" refers to mental flexibility, not yoga
• Actually, also yoga
• "Chaos will lead me home" — home being acceptance of disorder
• The final verse is about immortality via the cloud (our posts live forever)
• Also about the heat death of the universe
• Also about how time is fake
• Sing with genuine feeling; the melody is beautiful even if the words are weird

A Mighty Chaos Is Our Goddess

Martin Luther (Remix)

A cycle of seventeen-syllable laments for the Anthropocene

89,447 notes

#microplastics #haiku #poetry #anthropocene #we are all made of plastic now #existential dread #but make it art #eris approved

↑ [Haiku I-IX above]

op keeps going and it keeps getting worse (better). continuing:

i was NOT ready for "born contaminated". op are you okay. are ANY of us okay. this is the most devastating haiku series i've ever reblogged at 2am and i have reblogged a LOT of haiku at 2am

124,891 notes

#SCREAMING #this hit different #microplastics tw #poetry that makes you stare at the wall #reblogging at 2am because what is sleep #the mariana trench one SENT me

↑ [Haiku I-XIV above]

finishing what op started. these last ones broke me and i am a goddess.

this is the most sincere thing on my entire blog and i run a chaos goddess blog. "still. futile. still. still." is going on my tombstone. if i had a tombstone. if goddesses died. which we don't. but still.

also the fact that op wrote this on a plastic keyboard. chef's kiss. that's discordian poetry right there.

201,523 notes

#i am a deity and this made me feel things #microplastics #haiku #the coda saved me #irony is the highest form of prayer #discordianism #eris approved #hail eris

Meditative Instructions

34,891 notes

#meditation instructions #breathwork but make it depressing #microplastics #the cycle #inhale plastic exhale plastic #we are one (in contamination) #namaste i guess

The One Who Ghosted You

Last active: ??? · Maybe never again

Voice Prompt

The poem I'd write about someone who left me on read

My biggest dating hot take

I'm looking for someone who...

• This sonnet follows traditional iambic pentameter (mostly)
• The volta occurs at "They say that silence speaks volumes"
• The couplet at the end is a plea, not a resolution
• Because there is no resolution to being ghosted
• Only acceptance
• Or more texts you shouldn't send
• Don't send them
• Seriously
• Put the phone down

Alternative Title: "Sonnet 18: Shall I Compare Thee to a Summer's Day (If You Ever Respond)"

Sunday · 6 items · $47.83

Monday 9:14 PM · $23.47 · ★★★★★

Pad Thai, Spring Rolls, Resignation

Tuesday

Cereal for dinner. The vegetables watched from the crisper, judging silently.

Wednesday

Thursday 8:52 PM · $18.99

Regret, with a side of convenience

Friday 7:30 PM · $26.50 · ★★★★★

Friday: liberation (pizza)

Saturday

Leftovers from Friday (cold pizza is its own food group)

Sunday · Arriving tomorrow · $52.14

Sunday: renewed commitment to meal planning

The vegetables are sad in the crisper
Wilting, browning, liquefying
Becoming compost in slow motion
A reminder of my intentions
A monument to my failures
A science experiment I didn't consent to

I am sad in my kitchen
Looking at the vegetables
Knowing I will not eat them
Knowing I will buy more next week
Knowing the cycle continues

We are all slowly decomposing
Together

The vegetables, faster
Me, slower
But both of us headed the same direction
Both of us organic matter
Both of us returning to the earth
Eventually

🔮 DashPass Existential Insights

I will meal prep next week, I said
Throwing out this week's vegetables
Making room for next week's vegetables
Which will also go bad
Which is fine
This is fine
Everything is compost eventually

Eris laughing somewhere
Watching me try to impose order
On my eating habits
Chaos wins again
Chaos always wins
Chaos tastes like Thai food at 9 PM
On a Monday
When you said you'd eat the vegetables

The vegetables know
They've seen this before
They're not even mad
Just disappointed
Spiritually disappointed
In the way only a rotting bell pepper can be

I should go grocery shopping
I should buy more vegetables
I should definitely meal prep this time
I should probably just accept
That I won't

But the hope
The eternal hope
That Sunday feeling
Of possibility
Of fresh vegetables
Of clean containers
Of becoming the person
Who meal preps

That hope is also spiritual
That hope is human
That hope will kill me
Or at least give me scurvy
Eventually

I will eat a vegetable tomorrow
I promise
(I won't)

💬 DashOrder Support · Author's Notes

This poem is dedicated to everyone who has ever bought vegetables with good intentions.

The vegetables understand. The vegetables forgive you.

The vegetables are in a better place now. (The trash.) (Or compost, if you're fancy.)

May we all find peace with our meal planning failures.

May we all order Thai food without guilt.

May we all accept that we are not people who meal prep.

And that's okay.

Theological Significance: The eternal triangle of old ways, new chaos, and confused humanity.

The Story:

• Man (humanity) in a relationship with Woman (the old order, traditional ways)
• Looks at Other Woman (chaos, new possibilities, the unknown)
• Woman is not pleased

The Teaching:

• We are all the boyfriend, constantly distracted by new possibilities
• We are all the girlfriend, watching our stability be threatened
• We are all the other woman, representing temptation and change
• The photo captures the moment before the choice
• But the choice has already been made (by looking)
• This is the human condition

Prayer: "Grant me the wisdom to know which woman to look at, and the courage to accept the consequences of my gaze."

Theological Significance: The official portrait of late capitalism, climate change, and personal existence.

The Story: Dog sits in room. Room is on fire. Dog says "This is fine." It is not fine.

The Teaching:

• We are the dog
• The room is society, the planet, our personal lives, everything
• The fire is all the crises we're ignoring
• "This is fine" is both cope and acceptance
• We say it because the alternative is acknowledging how not-fine it is
• The dog knows it's not fine. The dog continues sitting. We continue sitting.

The Paradox: This meme is simultaneously a critique of complacency, an expression of complacency, a coping mechanism, and an accurate description of our current state.

Prayer: "Help me to know when to evacuate the burning room and when to sit with the fire and accept that this is fine."

this meme is doing more theological work than most actual theology tbh. also the room is still on fire.

Theological Significance: The stages of enlightenment (or delusion) (same thing).

The Stages:

• Level 1 (Small brain): Simple understanding
• Level 2 (Medium brain): Sophisticated understanding
• Level 3 (Large brain): Complex understanding
• Level 4 (Galaxy brain): So complex it loops back to simple, or is complete nonsense, or both

The Enlightenment Paradox: Sometimes the stupidest take is the truest take. Sometimes the galaxy brain is just high. The biggest brain and the smallest brain sometimes arrive at the same conclusion.

Prayer: "Grant me the small brain wisdom to do my best, and the galaxy brain wisdom to know it doesn't matter."

Theological Significance: The many faces of the divine in suffering.

The Variants:

• Doomer Wojak: Nihilistic acceptance of everything being bad
• Bloomer Wojak: Optimistic acceptance of everything being good
• Coomer Wojak: Addiction and compulsion
• Boomer Wojak: Generational disconnect
• Zoomer Wojak: Youth culture chaos
• NPC Wojak: Following the script
• Yes Chad: Confident chaos acceptance

The Teaching: These are archetypes. We contain all of them. Sometimes we're the Doomer, sometimes the Bloomer, sometimes the NPC, sometimes Yes Chad.

We are all Wojak, experiencing the human condition through simple drawings.

Prayer: "Help me to be the right Wojak for this moment, or to accept that I'm the wrong Wojak, which is fine."

i switch between doomer and bloomer approximately 47 times a day. i am Large Contain Multitudes Wojak.

Theological Significance: The moment of cosmic realization.

The Template: Two astronauts in space. First discovers reality is different. Second, holding gun: "Always has been."

The Teaching: Reality is not what you thought. It never was. The gun represents the violence of knowledge, the violence of maintaining illusion, or just dark humor about cosmic reveal.

Prayer: "Grant me the wisdom to accept what's always been, and the courage to not get shot by the second astronaut."

Theological Significance: When symbols are stolen, co-opted, reclaimed, and confusing.

[Content Warning: This gets messy]

The Story: Cute frog from comic → "feels good man" meme → co-opted by bad actors → creator killed character → character refuses to die → now exists in quantum state of wholesome/hateful depending on context.

The Teaching: Symbols can be corrupted. Meaning is contextual. Something pure can be twisted. Something twisted can be reclaimed. Or maybe it should just be retired. Nobody can agree.

The Chaos: Pepe is simultaneously an innocent meme, a hate symbol, a cryptocurrency mascot, a Hong Kong protest symbol, a Twitch emote, and evidence that online culture is broken.

Prayer: "Help me to understand context, to recognize when symbols have been corrupted, and to know when to let things go."

the fact that pepe simultaneously represents everything and nothing is honestly the most discordian thing on this entire list

Memes are:

• Communication: They convey complex emotions instantly
• Culture: They're how we build shared meaning online
• Commentary: They're how we process reality
• Coping: They're how we deal with horror through humor
• Connection: They're how we signal belonging
• Evolution: They mutate and adapt like language, like genes, like ideas
• Scripture: They contain wisdom, or at least observations about the human condition

Image macros are modern hieroglyphics. They are pictorial language. They are shared mythology. They are how we communicate truths too complex for words.

If ancient peoples had hieroglyphics, we have memes.

If ancient peoples had oral traditions, we have copypasta.

If ancient peoples had cave paintings, we have MS Paint edits.

We're not so different from our ancestors. We're still trying to capture and share human experience. We're still making marks to say "I was here, I felt this, someone understand me."

The medium has changed. The need hasn't.

The next time you share a meme, you're participating in an ancient tradition:

Creating and sharing symbols that capture human truth.