/lit/ - Literature

>Ontologically
>Epistemologically
>Symbolically

>>19806629
>>19806623
For to write a realistic man proves itself a truly herculian task. Our psychointellectual apparatus is peerlessly the utmost interstice of God and Matter, the most incredible system in the Universe.

Every man's inner world is both a labyrinth and an abyss, his conscience the life-risking explorer of this gargantuan hellscape in search of coveted glittery goods of the mind. One must grasp the most contradictory of contradictions in order to decrypt the enigmas of the conflicted male soul: At night an Apollonian forum of stoic rationality and at night a Dionysian dance of denial and coping mechanisms. A demigod of creative spirit in his own comfortable domain, and a daemon ablaze by the ira of spiteful destruction when encroached by the night. A sordid heart of gold which aches for the christlike salvation of hapless victims of circumstance, and in rest a certain immature playfulness and analysis of sublimating coldness at the tragic Molekian happenings of this World.

To write a man, one must first understand the man that he very well is, and this, my friend, is a struggle of the ages. Countless rite of passages are involved in even comprehending the basic archetypes that permeate the collective male unconscious: Man: A noble Don Quijote, a savage Faustus; Liberating Robin Hood, strangling Mammon; Yeshua and Lucifer; Heracles and Diogenes; David and Goliath.

Not even to mention the technical capabilities in which man is the Hephaestian child incarnate: Chemical and electrical engineering, woodworking, computer programming, chess, quantum physics, microbiology, aerodynamics, thermodynamics, sculpting, painting. You name it, all complex subjects in their own right which demand an astute polymathic intellect of the author to weave realistically into his tales.

To write a woman, one must simply picture a blissfully, childishly irresponsible and simple-minded Lotus Eater, unsoaked by the mire of advanced consciousness, a treat of relatability for all the plebeian females and feminized men.

For to write a realistic man proves itself a truly herculian task. Our psychointellectual apparatus is peerlessly the utmost interstice of God and Matter, the most incredible system in the Universe.

Every man's inner world is both a labyrinth and an abyss, his conscience the life-risking explorer of this gargantuan hellscape in search of coveted glittery goods of the mind. One must grasp the most contradictory of contradictions in order to decrypt the enigmas of the conflicted male soul: At night an Apollonian forum of stoic rationality and at night a Dionysian dance of denial and coping mechanisms. A demigod of creative spirit in his own comfortable domain, and a daemon ablaze by the ira of spiteful destruction when encroached by the night. A sordid heart of gold which aches for the christlike salvation of hapless victims of circumstance, and in rest a certain immature playfulness and analysis of sublimating coldness at the tragic Molekian happenings of this World.

To write a man, one must first understand the man that he very well is, and this, my friend, is a struggle of the ages. Countless rite of passages are involved in even comprehending the basic archetypes that permeate the collective male unconscious: Man: A noble Don Quijote, a savage Faustus; Liberating Robin Hood, strangling Mammon; Yeshua and Lucifer; Heracles and Diogenes; David and Goliath.

Not even to mention the technical capabilities in which man is the Hephaestian child incarnate: Chemical and electrical engineering, woodworking, computer programming, chess, quantum physics, microbiology, aerodynamics, thermodynamics, sculpting, painting. You name it, all complex subjects in their own right which demand an astute polymathic intellect of the author to weave realistically into his tales.

To write a woman, one must simply picture a blissfully, childishly irresponsible and simple-minded Lotus Eater, unsoaked by the mire of advanced consciousness, a treat of relatability for all the plebeian females and feminized men.

>The Author never had to bully Atheists because everyone already does.

THERE IS NO PEACE BETWEEN LIGHT AND DARKNESS

LIGHT KILLS DARKNESS

DARKNESS FEARS THE CLEANSING WRATH OF LIGHT

IF YOU WISH TO MAKE PEACE WITH DARKNESS, YOU POSSESS NO LIGHT.

>>18134402
Phwew

THE WHORE OF BABYLON WAS WOMEN'S RIGHTS

>All life has some degree of value because Life has no meaninglessness, neither in creation nor destruction. Any life therefore that is to be taken must by necessity not only have purpose, but greater goodness within the consequences of that act. To suffer is to live, to suffer purposefully is to thrive. To die is to give purpose to those that survive, whether by example of warning or inspiration. He who suffers from a lack of meaning in truth suffers from a lack of resolve, resolve to push through or resolve to commit suicide. Man thrives not just regardless, but because of these pitiful creatures.

>For reasons I have explained Elsewhere

>he doesn't remember the future
Not a chance buddy

>I draw inspiration from my everyday interactions with the mundane forms of reality in order to give a sort of vibrant undertone to this superficial existence

>>17708724
I'd Network like a motherfucker and join his secret society

>>17697642
One might as well ask if the Sun soars above the world in grandiuous solitude because he's just anti-social.

>>17665292
Live up to your Fathers expectations