/lit/ - Literature

[Anonymous No.13117401]

Post the last piece of writing you did.

[Anonymous No.13117411]

>>/crit/
>>/write/

[Anonymous No.13117424]

>>13117401

I walked my dog this morning,
came to a sudden realization.
My dog brought a bone to me,
didn't know from where it was.
My father brought home a grocerry bag.
Inside were vegetables and a fruit.
A red juicy apple on table,
was hungry, so I took one bite.

I helped my mother this morning,
my dad had a sudden itch.
Went to the hospital for check-up,
turns out he's got the zits.
My mother cried day and day long,
my father was really pissed.
Test, positive, condom,
he hasn't fucked her in a week.

[« Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ » !mxvabIoSIE No.13117481]

Meh. Just some ideas on categorizations I had to put to words. I always assume someone else has written about it before.

So-called individualists of today are more accurately categorized as fragmentists.
Actual individualists are parts of wholes, and they know they cannot be otherwise. A staunch fragmentists “individualist” seeks an artificial existence, a fatalistic or romanticized idealism wrapped around self reliance and pulling oneself up by their own bootstraps. They falsely believe they can live in a vacuum of their own making. Even the hermit in a log cabin brings an axe and his experiential past into his new woodland solitude.
The real individualists realize their connections to family and community but is fully aware of their autonomy, on occasion freely disagreeing with anyone of their immediate collective.

[Anonymous No.13117906]

When I learned that you had secretly been going through my things it was like the floor dropped from under me. I couldn’t believe it. But in my deepest heart, I knew that it was true. You have vindicated every suspicion that I feared was true about you.

It is not so much that you read my journal that I’m angry with you. It’s that you have shown that you have no trust in me or respect for my boundaries. I never hid the book because I trusted you. And now? You’ve skulked and sneaked into my most vulnerable place and decided that you were entitled to know my deepest insecurities and struggles. If you had asked, I would have told you, but you took it upon yourself to find out.

If you had come to me to tell me what you had done I probably would have forgiven you there and then. The most heart wrenching thing about this was that you could have violated my trust like you did and continued to look me in the face day after day without remorse or shame. Did it ever weigh on your conscience? I know that I couldn’t have lasted more than a day without the guilt becoming too much to bear. How long did it go on I wonder. Days? Weeks? Months? Years? How long have you been spying on me? Did you take a sneak peak at this letter before I even sent it to you? I don’t know what to think anymore.

Concerning the contents of the journal: Yes, I did at one point in my life seriously examine my gender identity. Even recently. My gender has been my deepest insecurity throughout my whole life as I’m sure you’ve learned from pilfering my diary. But the whole issue has been resolved now, I’ve made my peace with my anxiety, I wish that you would do the same with yours. You are reopening scarred wounds by bringing the topic up again. I’m not changing my body or anything like that. The situation has resolved exactly like you would have wanted it to, without your intervention: Status Quo.

If I thought that it would have been of benefit for you to know about my struggles, I would have told you. But I knew that your anxiousness would have gotten the better of you, and that you wouldn't have understood. It looks like my concerns were justified.

[Anonymous No.13117916]

>>13117401
https://docs.google.com/document/d/1Od7d-ts2_KcOYWVeSNDoSKp0eZlzfcmIJhFQnWUuSiE/edit?usp=sharing