Corecore's Comeback: Romanticizing the Apocalypse, Again

Why Gen Z Is Falling Back Into Corecore—and Why I Totally Get It

There’s this one Corecore video I keep thinking about. It starts with chaotic traffic footage, cuts to a flaming forest, flashes a clip of a kid crying in a classroom, then fades into a dolphin swimming alone in a gray tank. The music? It’s some moody, ambient track that feels like it's melting your chest. No words. Just vibes. And yet—I felt more understood in those 45 seconds than I have in most therapy sessions.

Welcome to the Corecore comeback—where TikTok turns into a collapsing art gallery of late-stage capitalism, climate dread, and digital burnout. Gen Z isn't just watching the world end anymore; we're curating the playlist for it.

What Exactly Is Corecore?

Corecore isn't a trend so much as it’s a collective emotional exhale. It’s a montage-style video aesthetic on TikTok, where creators stitch together dystopian footage—think crowded subways, decaying malls, nuclear test clips—with soundtracks that feel ripped straight from the saddest corners of your Spotify Wrapped.

It’s visually chaotic and emotionally heavy, but weirdly beautiful. It’s not trying to go viral; it’s trying to hit you in the gut.

The OG Corecore stuff popped up around 2020, when COVID had us all staring into the void, but it never completely died. Now it’s back—and sharper, darker, and more self-aware. Honestly, it feels like the soundtrack to everything Gen Z has been trying to say for years.

Why We're All Hooked on This Doomcore Vibe

Look, we’ve been raised in instability. Recession was the background noise to our childhoods. We grew up hearing “the planet’s dying,” “college is a scam,” and “mental health crisis” on loop. So when someone throws all that into a lo-fi video with Phoebe Bridgers softly crying in the background? It resonates.

We’re a generation allergic to fake optimism. Corecore doesn’t pretend things are okay. It doesn’t push grind culture or self-help fluff. It just stares at the chaos and says, “Yeah, same.”

And maybe that’s the weird comfort—knowing other people feel it too. That you’re not the only one waking up with anxiety and going to bed with existential dread.

It's Not Just Emo Aesthetics—It's Digital Protest

The beauty of Corecore is that beneath the aesthetic is anger—quiet, simmering rage at the systems failing us.

Scroll through a few and you’ll see: anti-capitalist messaging, news clips about climate change, cops at protests, teenagers staring blankly into Zoom screens. It’s like a mixtape of every reason we’re all exhausted.

Creators aren’t just making vibes. They’re throwing shade at late-stage capitalism, performative activism, and the constant, numbing flood of bad news. Corecore is activism wearing indie eyeliner. It’s saying, “This is messed up,” but without yelling.

We're Burnt Out—and Corecore Gets That

Here’s my personal take: Corecore feels like my brain most days. That tangled mess of sadness, overstimulation, doomscrolling, and the occasional meme. It’s not organized, but it’s real.

The videos jump from a nuclear explosion to a scene from Euphoria to a glitchy ad for antidepressants. That’s not chaos—that’s realism. That’s the internet we grew up with. That’s our mental playlist.

There’s one I saved where a news anchor says, “Temperatures have reached a new record,” and then it cuts to a clip from The Truman Show with Truman saying, “Is anything real?” That hit me harder than anything I read in school.

It's Sad, but Also... Funny?

What makes Corecore 2025 so different from the earlier wave is the humor. Yes, it’s still sad, but it’s meta sad. There’s irony now. A clip of a girl crying is immediately followed by Patrick Star screaming. It’s emotional whiplash—but on purpose.

We’re not just feeling the weight of the world; we’re laughing at the absurdity of it. Corecore lets us hold both truths: “This is all too much,” and “We’re still here, somehow.”

And there’s something beautiful in that. Tragic, but kind of defiant.

Is It Healthy? Or Just an Aesthetic Black Hole?

Okay, real talk: I’ve definitely gotten sucked into a 2 a.m. Corecore binge that left me spiraling. There’s a fine line between emotional catharsis and straight-up doom-feeding.

Corecore doesn’t fix anything. It doesn’t offer hope. But maybe it’s not supposed to. Maybe it’s just the mirror we need right now—one that reflects the mess without filters or Pinterest quotes.

Still, if you're already riding the burnout rollercoaster, watching 50 clips of global collapse probably won’t help. It’s important to step away. Talk to people. Pet a dog. Eat something real. Remember: you’re not just content—you’re human.

Is This a Trend or a Movement?

Honestly, it’s both. Corecore isn’t going to solve climate change or dismantle capitalism, but it is going to help you feel less alone in the madness. And in a world full of empty positivity and toxic hustle culture, that’s kind of revolutionary.

Corecore isn’t saying “it’s over.” It’s saying “it’s real.” And maybe, just maybe, that’s the first step to feeling something honest again.

Stay plugged into the rawest vibes and most unfiltered truths of Gen Z culture at Woke Waves Magazine.

#Corecore #TikTokTrends #GenZCulture #Doomscrolling #DigitalBurnout

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