/lit/ - Literature

My situation is more hopeless than the monkey tapping away, glass cube secured and locked, it's purpose for the next trillion years will be to eventually write a shakespeare novel. I'm not the monkey.
The ape is ignorant and stupid that any success he might have will come from random billion billion variables lining up to perfection, an event that will simply not happen again. One page alone, coherence after 700 million years, a page, one for brilliance will take billions and there's pending change on the entire book, keep it.
No, I'm not that monkey, my birth was the page, billion variables all collided to make a being of such simple talents, the jury is out on me, can this page ever hope to good, it's not even close the mean. Toss it away think of nothing of it, ever again.