To me, 'Pigs Can't Look Up' is one of those phrases that sounds like a nihilistic joke at first but hides something sadder. It’s like a reminder that some creatures are literally built to never see the stars. I stumbled on it in an indie comic where a character used it to explain why they gave up dreaming—because their ‘design’ wouldn’t allow it. It hit hard. It’s not just about pigs; it’s about how we internalize limitations. Ever play 'Disco Elysium'? The game’s whole vibe echoes this—how broken systems make us forget we could look up, if we tried.
That phrase 'Pigs Can't Look Up' always stuck with me because it feels like such a weirdly specific observation with deeper implications. The first time I heard it, I actually googled whether pigs could physically look up—turns out, their neck anatomy makes it nearly impossible. But beyond the literal, it reminds me of how we often overlook simple truths or limitations right in front of us. There’s a whole thematic layer in media where characters (or societies) are oblivious to their own constraints, like in 'Animal Farm' where the pigs become the oppressors without realizing they’re repeating history.
I also love how this idea pops up in dystopian stories or games where systems keep people ‘looking down’—distracted or powerless. It’s a metaphor for how ignorance or physical limitations can trap us. In 'NieR:Automata,' for example, androids fight endlessly without questioning their purpose, much like pigs might never think to look skyward. It’s hauntingly poetic when you think about it—how much do we miss because we’re never encouraged to ‘look up’?
2025-12-07 07:18:00
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Everyone in the Titanus region would have heard the older generation tell them this—during sky burials, the vultures wouldn't eat the corpses of people who'd committed heinous crimes.
My husband is the sky burial practitioner who buries me. The vultures circle my corpse in the air above the burial site, but they don't prey on me.
My husband frowns at the sight. "It looks like this person must have committed crimes when alive. They deserve this."
Suddenly, I remembered him pointing at me, his eyes ablaze with flames of rage as he shouted, "Nancy wouldn't have lost her baby if not for you! Someone like you doesn't even deserve to get a sky burial!"
It looks like his words are coming true. But later, he falls to his knees before my grave and weeps. He begs me to forgive him.
To save up for my wife’s expensive asthma medication, I worked the dangerous high-rise job around our apartment complex, even on a day with winds strong enough to knock someone off their feet.
However, that was when I accidentally witnessed my wife cheating on me with her ex-boyfriend, and to entertain him, she picked up a fruit knife and slowly cut through my safety rope. My body slammed into the ground so hard that the impact shattered the bones in my leg.
Only later did I learn the truth: the one with asthma wasn’t my wife at all—it was her first love. All the money I’d been saving for her? She had been giving him every cent.
Eventually, the same cold, proud woman I once married ended up on her knees in front of me, begging for help. I called the building security over and had them drag her out.
“Get that filth out of here,” I said. “It’s hurting my eyes.”
The very first thing I do after I come back to life is find a pig and get married to it.
In my past life, I was on the brink of getting engaged to my lover of ten years, Anthony Warner, who was a regimental colonel. In order to celebrate my engagement, Hannah Larson, my cousin, gave me a bracelet, and since it was a thoughtful gift from her, I wore it all the time.
Yet, on our engagement day, Anthony didn't just call off our engagement, but he also berated me, calling me a tramp and a homewrecker who destroyed his relationship with Hannah.
I was completely at a loss and tried to defend myself, but Hannah suddenly stepped forward and burst out crying. "I know my family and educational background surpass yours, but you can't just ruin my relationship with Anthony out of jealousy, Natalie! Anthony and I have already made a lifelong commitment to each other, so please just let it go!"
Anthony turned and led Hannah away. They then got engaged shortly afterward.
I was left standing there, becoming the subject of gossip from my relatives. They called me a shameless home-wrecker, and their scorn extended to my parents, who were shamed for raising such a child.
They eventually took their own lives from all the rumors, and I couldn't bear the pain of losing them, so I ended myself, too.
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Before they left, Dad told me to take care of Grandpa, watch the house, and protect the yard.
Mom said I was the older brother, so I had to be sensible.
They said that once they made enough money, they'd bring me to the city too.
I didn't want to let go. I clung to Mom's leg and begged through tears, "Mom, please. I don't want to be separated from you."
My tears and snot smeared across her expensive dress.
She scolded me for being difficult, slapped my bottom until it swelled, and struck my face hard enough to break the skin.
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"Your father and I are under so much pressure in the city. Can't you be sensible for once?"
Her words came true.
That winter, I starved to death.
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Pigs Can't Look Up' is this quirky little indie comic that stuck with me because of its oddly charming cast. The protagonist, a cynical but soft-hearted pig named Roy, carries the story with his deadpan humor and existential musings about why pigs literally can't look up at the sky. Then there's his foil, a hyperactive chicken named Clara who's convinced the world's mysteries are solvable if you just 'peck at them hard enough.' Their dynamic is pure gold—Clara's relentless optimism bouncing off Roy's grumpy realism. The side characters add flavor too, like a melancholic raccoon philosopher who runs a underground book club and a trio of mischievous mice that serve as the comic relief. What I love is how each character, no matter how small, feels like they have their own weird little universe inside them.
The setting itself feels like a character—a surreal farm where the animals grapple with absurd rules (like the titular pig limitation) while hinting at deeper themes about societal constraints. The comic doesn't spoon-feed you symbolism, but Roy's struggle against his 'design flaw' resonates if you've ever felt trapped by circumstances. Clara's subplot about documenting 'sky evidence' with a broken camera is both hilarious and low-key tragic. It's one of those stories where the characters linger in your mind long after reading, like you've made friends you can't quite shake off. Makes me wish more people talked about it—it's a hidden gem.