/lit/ - Literature

If in youth the Universe is majestically unveiling, and everywhere Heaven revealing itself on Earth, nowhere to the Young Man does this Heaven on Earth so immediately reveal itself as in the Young Maiden. Strangely enough, in this strange life of ours, it has been so appointed. On the whole, as I have often said, a Person (Personlichkeit) is ever holy to us; a certain orthodox Anthropomorphism connects my Me with all Thees in bonds of Love: but it is in this approximation of the Like and Unlike, that such heavenly attraction, as between Negative and Positive, first burns out into a flame. Is the pitifullest mortal Person, think you, indifferent to us? Is it not rather our heartfelt wish to be made one with him; to unite him to us, by gratitude, by admiration, even by fear; or failing all these, unite ourselves to him? But how much more, in this case of the Like-Unlike! Here is conceded us the higher mystic possibility of such a union, the highest in our Earth; thus, in the conducting medium of Fantasy, flames forth that fire-development of the universal Spiritual Electricity, which, as unfolded between man and woman, we first emphatically denominate LOVE.

In every well-conditioned stripling, as I conjecture, there already blooms a certain prospective Paradise, cheered by some fairest Eve; nor, in the stately vistas, and flowerage and foliage of that Garden, is a Tree of Knowledge, beautiful and awful in the midst thereof, wanting. Perhaps too the whole is but the lovelier, if Cherubim and a Flaming Sword divide it from all footsteps of men; and grant him, the imaginative stripling, only the view, not the entrance. Happy season of virtuous youth, when shame is still an impassable celestial barrier; and the sacred air-cities of Hope have not shrunk into the mean clay-hamlets of Reality; and man, by his nature, is yet infinite and free!

How do I cope with the fact that my writing will never be made into a novel because I will end up killing myself due to OCD and intrusive thoughts?

I broke my month long no fap streak a couple days ago and cried like a baby after I came to my senses. I'm so pathetic.

>Cette soirée que j'avais voulu escamoter me pèse étrangement. Tandis que l'heure avance, que ce jour-là va bientôt finir et que déjà je le voudrais fini, il y a des hommes qui lui ont confié tout leur espoir, tout leur amour et leurs dernières forces. Il y a des hommes mourants, d'autres qui attendent une échéance, et qui voudraient que ce ne soit jamais demain. Il y en a d'autres pour qui demain pointera comme un remords. D'autres qui sont fatigués, et cette nuit ne sera jamais assez longue pour leur donner tout le repos qu'il faudrait. Et moi, moi qui a perdu ma journée, de quel droit est-ce que j'ose appeler demain?

like a delicate feminine cunt, i'm a man, it's my duty to be filthy, women can sense that, they don't want anything with me because they know i'm disgusted easily thus won't enjoy eating their pussy, and they're absolutely right, i'm disgusted by things and it's ruining my life, i should squish a disgusting bug with my teeths, eat a living mouse and use every corner of my tongue to taste its flavour, but i'm a little subhuman who's disgusted by things, a defect the world rejected from itself during massive diarrhea, i'm no part of how everything should properly work.

>>18751036
If Jim were still around he would have done a video about this.

>Oedipus turns to feel the sunlight for the last time upon his face and hands

I’ve been doing some writing and world building lately and I can’t help but feel that I’m just copying other artists work. I basically feel like I cannibalize my favorite things of different books/stories and combine them into one idea. Like I can’t help but feel I’m just ripping other people’s work off and I’m scared I will be seen as a fraud by other writers.

Title. I’ve been doing some writing and world building lately and I can’t help but feel that I’m just copying other artists work. I basically feel like I cannibalize my favorite things of different books/stories and combine them into one idea. Like I can’t help but feel I’m just ripping other people’s work off and I’m scared I will be seen as a fraud by other writers.

/mu/ is having a better discussion of Shakespeare right now.

Books to help me deal with the sheer pointlessness of life and the lack of any lasting meaning in this world?

>In before antinatalist trash; I am not suffering so much that I wish i didn't exist; my existence just seems inconsequential and pointless.

>>17304583
>>17304674
>>17304877

Why thought

>>16874236
A few minutes ago there was a lesbian thread on /tv/ with webms and it has made me detest lesbians. I now feel like I was once the American public that accepted homosexuality, without knowing that it involved gay sex. Knowing what lesbians do... it's disgusting and wrong.

/r/mu is making fun of us

Generally I can tear through fiction, but non-fiction tends to take me much longer. Is this typical? I feel like I have to concentrate a lot more to get anything out of the experience with non-fiction, whereas reading novels / poetry I can relax and genuinely enjoy myself. Am I just a retard who needs to learn how to read? Any tips or techniques would be appreciated

>Et, frôlant le mur bas de la grande cour qui isolait notre maison du village, j’arrivai, un peu anxieux de mon retard, à la petite grille.

>>14140050
>ty
j’étais heureux de le faire.

I want socialism, bros...

>>11390041
Okay...

>The world is too pleb to let beards grow this long.