/lit/ - Literature

>>16637528
>A core tenant

>>16633498

>>16466423
>seud-dom

>>15481784
Same but just turned 24. I did make out with a girl once.

>you will never be born into the upper classes
>you will never be the scion of a respected family whose history goes back hundreds of years
>you will never be genetically superior to the unwashed masses
why even live?

Guys, it's a hot and sunny day in London and I'm in the University of London campus area. To see all these buildings and common university grounds and know that in a few weeks shitloads of normies will have the best times of their lives while I'm an ugly loser who had no friends in university is demoralising.

Background:
>aged 26
>no friends or social life since 18
>no female attention ever
>went through university with zero social experiences
>became the loner nobody talks to within two days of my current job
>never been to pub, club, or party
>missed out on all the 16 - 22 formative social experiences that people look back on fondly (teen crushes, school prom, school dances, university fresher's week, any sort of relationships at all)
>know that women all have 5000 tinder matches and think the average male is ugly

>tfw I literally don't have the balls to live life the way I want
>feel like I have to read shitloads of boring old books or else people will call me a pleb
>feel like I have to go through SICP even when I find it boring
>took me over 6 months to grind through Nicholas Nickleby and the Brothers Karamazov- they were boring as fuck
>procrastinating reading great expectations- halfway through and it's boring as fuck

I truly believe that my tastes reflect much more intelligence than some stupid "literary intellectual's" citation circlejerk idea of brothers Karamazov having "profound insights". I feel like I will always be trapped in to reading stuff I am told to read even though I believe that boredom is an incredible bullshit detector.

It's so demoralising to realise that women have everything handed to them with preferential treatment and career success is 99 % networking, fitting in with normies, being judged by normie committees, and bullshitting. How can anyone give a fuck? It's near impossible.

I wish I had the type of autism that let me work on one thing for 10 hours in a row. I resent my lack of will to do this.

Coffee ruins my sleep and therefore gym strength. I will have to give it up soon and what will I have left to do when my main hobby is sitting around in public to feel less alone, drinking coffee, browsing 4chan, feeling sad about life? Barely anything.

>when you randomly make eye contact with a woman and she has that blank expression and you know deep down she is thinking, "Ewww, he's not Chad, get away from me creep!"

I read history books on my phone on train rides. I'm not sure whether this "efficiency" of reading in spare minutes is dehumanising or smart.

Great expectations is so fucking boring. I struggle to avoid zoning out when reading it. I can literally notice the chapters that Dickens put in as LITERAL filler. I'm only reading it for pseud cred. I'm going to read a tale of two cities for the pseud cred.

In a fit of coffee fueled optimism I planned to read all of Dickens's books when reading about the "greatness" of bleak house, David Copperfield, and the old curioaity shop etc. But I can't. Great expectations is so awful.

>tfw I literally don't have the balls to live life the way I want
>tfw feel like I have to read shitloads of boring old books or else people will call me a pleb even though I don't talk to anyone irl and I see novels as "mere" entertainment and non fiction as shallow popularisation that is usually boring unless constructed with its own narrative
>tfw feel like I have to go through SICP even when I find it boring at times
>tfw took me over 6 months to grind through Nicholas Nickleby and the Brothers Karamazov- they were boring as fuck

I truly believe that my tastes reflect much more intelligence than some stupid "literary intellectual's" citation circlejerk ideas of brothers Karamazov having "profound insights". But I just don't have the balls to stop reading boring shit.

>go to Notting hill carnival
>walk down streets filled with people
>a few people blowing horns, selling jerked chicken and jerked other stuff
>Staceys with glitter on their faces (bright colours to attract Chads and Tyrones)
>eventually walk to a road which is a short parade area with loads of trucks with DJs on them playing really loud (really loud) Carribean music
>people part of the parade (local community people) were dancing n the road with the trucks, normies were just watching and looking happy

Normally when I'm in situations like that where everyone is happy, with friends, attractive, and there is music playing (like when I walk past night life areas at night) I talk to myself in my head, making observations, almost as if the people around me can read my mind, or in coping by pretending I'm not a subhuman. But at the carnival I completely stopped the mental charade and was fully cognizant of my friendless, ugly, pathetic appearance. There were no mental distractions.

Don't say I don't do the legwork for you guys.

Background:
>aged 26
>no friends or social life since 18
>no female attention ever
>went through university with zero social experiences
>became the loner nobody talks to within two days of my current job
>never been to pub, club, or party
>missed out on all the 16 - 22 formative social experiences that people look back on fondly (teen crushes, school prom, school dances, university fresher's week, any sort of relationships at all)
>know that women all have 5000 tinder matches and think the average male is ugly

>see the raw enthusiasm of /mu/ and /tv/
>realise how worthless novels are

The fun has been sucked out of all books. Literary fiction is just half assed barely disguised memoirs by Oxbridge / New England Jews and women and non whites. The entire medium is constipated by the need for everything to conform with academic bullshit.

>tfw grown out of 4chan but have nowhere else

I hate how the pseuds are so in my head I'm going to finish reading books and that I find boring (manufacturing consent and guns germs and steel and snow crash). I don't even have the balls to live life how I want. I feel the need to go through SICP even though I'm about halfway through and it has stopped feeling as useful. If I lived according to my tastes I would immediately postpone SICP and stop reading those books or other boring books. I simply don't have the balls to live according to my intuitions.

I have no short, easily rememberd, always correct life philosophy that will tell me what to do and I hate myself for it even though I know it could never be created.

People who espouse philosophical beliefs or lifestyle beliefs are all hypocritical snake oil salesmen astrologers. Even the ones who aren't selling you something are like nails on a chalk board when you don't want to be spooked.

I over analyse my life to a stupid degree. Real example: Should I read books on my phone on the train for 20 minute journeys to read more books? Will this type of efficiency simply degrade my life in to an information consumerbot? Is it a sign that I am hard working? What if it's not worth it because I would pick worse books than I'd read at home? Is it worth reading books 3 to 6 pages at a time? What if giving the mind nothing to do is the healthy and smarter option? What if it's not and I bore myself for no reason?

Background:
>aged 26
>no friends or social life since 18
>no female attention ever
>went through university with zero social experiences
>became the loner nobody talks to within two days of my current job
>never been to pub, club, or party
>missed out on all the 16 - 22 formative social experiences that people look back on fondly (teen crushes, school prom, school dances, university fresher's week, any sort of relationships at all)
>know that women all have 5000 tinder matches and think the average male is ugly

Just another typical weekend coming up

>wake up and clean room and go to gym (weak due to coffee ruining sleep) and eat
>drink coffee at my favourite train station while browsing 4chan and feeling sad about life
>go to a museum and feel like a fraud at how I'm going for the pseudointellectual cred
>feel awful after seeing 50 attractive women who consider me a disgusting beta while they have 5000 tinder matches with Chads
>go to my second favourite station to drink coffee, repeat
>go home and waste all my time on the internet or read some books I only read for the pseud cred
>go to sleep
>sunday passes with even less happening but with museums closed so I feel locked out the social sphere and have a vague sense that I should have woken up early on Saturday to make the most of it
>coffee ruined sleep too much to make the gym worthwhile but I'll give it up after Monday...
>would feel sad about going to work on Monday but I barely work

Background:
>aged 26
>no friends or social life since 18
>no female attention ever
>went through university with zero social experiences
>became the loner nobody talks to within two days of my current job
>never been to pub, club, or party
>missed out on all the 16 - 22 formative social experiences that people look back on fondly (teen crushes, school prom, school dances, university fresher's week, any sort of relationships at all)
>know that women all have 5000 tinder matches and think the average male is ugly

How do I stop caring about what the pseuds think and start reading for enjoyment instead of reading boring old books for pseud cred?

I would have given up on brothers Karamazov quickly and never started manufacturing consent or guns germs and steel (both easily summarised) if it wasn't for pseud pressure.

Did anyone else fall for the going outside meme? I went to almost all university lectures, studied in the library, and my main hobby is sitting around in public, drinking coffee, browsing my phone, and feeling sad about life. I go to the gym regularly. When I moved to London I started sightseeing a lot. I have an office job where there are many people around my age.

None of that helped one bit. I am still utterly alone, no friends no experiences at all with non escort women. If you're an ugly non-normie you have no hope. Thank God I became blackpilled before the delusion of feelgood crap made me talk to people I don't know like some autist who swallowed Mr motivator Americanised shit.

I should become even more of a shut in and try to git gud at programming or something that will give me the money and therefore time (just quitting and having time is stigmatised).

A lot of advice is just world fallacy crap. A comment on another topic also hit home: if companies have no solution to sell, they'll say it isn't a problem. PUAs can't sell better faces (at prices that meet demand)? Sell just world feelgood confidence routine copepills. Mass delusion follows.

Seeing attractive and happy people outside is painful. I missed out on everything and society sees me as a disposable battery. At least my bitterness lets me put in zero effort at work guilt free.

Being outside is

Background:
>aged 26
>no friends or social life since 18
>no female attention ever
>went through university with zero social experiences
>became the loner nobody talks to within two days of my current job
>never been to pub, club, or party
>missed out on all the 16 - 22 formative social experiences that people look back on fondly (teen crushes, school prom, school dances, university fresher's week, any sort of relationships at all)
>know that women all have 5000 tinder matches and think the average male is ugly

I'm sitting in Canary wharf right now. It's not busy and it's like a shiny future city. There is no council, only "management". The parks and public places are shiny and seem untouched.

The Canary wharf underground is like being in a PS1 game.

Of course seeing Chads and Staceys is demoralising but that goes without saying.

What are actual essential non fiction books? Essential in the sense that they give you really useful frameworks or important knowledge.

I don't mean some old shit people pretend to like for pretension fuel.

Really fucking hard mode: Recommend a book that's also enjoyable and couldn't be easily summarised.

I'm reading guns germs and steel right now and there's no fucking way I would read this if it wasn't some sort of mandatory book. It can easily be summarised. I hate how pseudointellectuals prefer long winded shit and deride brevity

Super fucking hard mode: Help me stop caring about the opinions of pseuds in the first place. Help me give up on books mid-read or ignore books without feeling guilty.

Is there a word in the English language - or any other language for that matter - that is used specifically to describe the morose feeling a person experiences when they are close to finishing a book they are enjoying so much?

Does anyone know a good translation of Marcus Aurelius' Meditations?

I'm reading the translation by A. S. L. Farquharson (unfortunate name) and at times I have trouble following the meanings due to, what appears to my pleb eyes, an almost shakespearian use of english.

Meursault was an autistic freak.

>doesn't abide by social etiquette
>personality like a block of wood
>kills a man during an autistic tantrum

And yet...

>gets laid regularly
>with multiple women
>one wants to marry him even though he's a murderer

What did Camus mean by this? Is SMV the only thing that matters in an otherwise uncaring universe? If an ugly person tried this shit they wouldn't have gotten out of their bedroom.

Fuck this retarded norm garbage to hell.