/lit/ - Literature

>>19108578
>At four she

>>17863007

I have it, /lit/. The most /lit/ short story ever. Move over oat posting, move over bear Stirner: something greater is in the course of construction.

Ever been in a relationship? I have and I’m going to tell you about it, /lit/. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, look at this tangle of thorns. How did we meet? We met on a dating application —simple as. The day before our first date, I went to go fetch some dinner from a discounter, but ended up getting drunk in front of a bus stop instead. I decided now would be a good time to confess my love for her feet which were mediocre and beautiful and I had admired them the most in her profile picture; she wore open-toed sandals, her toes were pale and looked like they smelled of wet chalk. Well, I walked home from the bus stop after that and had some mayonnaise for dinner. I woke up at around 1 pm: all the lights were on, the window was open and a Charles Manson interview warbled away on loop in the background --
>I’m the king of the underworld guy. I roll the nickels.
Where was I? At home, I thought excitedly, knowing that I needed to prepare for my first date in some time. And which locale did I choose for our first rendezvous, you might ask yourself: I choose a bar close to where I live, a familiar place. I waited for her to arrive at my stop at the subway station. I waited anxiously and alone and when she stepped out of the subway car, I didn’t immediately recognize her, but as she approached, I mean, when I came to understand that it was her, I knew that this relationship would not last for more than a month. She wore tennis shoes — lesbian, I thought, dead giveaway. She wore loose-fitting jeans. My dismay grew. I was eager to get to the bar. Finally she came close to my face, pushing back the salt and pepper blonde pelt of tufty, bobby-trimmed hair beneath her piercing ear and said:
>Oh, hi. You must be Anon.
>Oh yes, I said, feigning surprise and joy.
>I really like your shirt, she said.
>Oh thanks, I said.
>Where do we have to go now?, she asked.
>To the bar, I said.
The rest, reader, is so banal as to not even merit a narrative thread.

that moment when it is revealed to humbert that in spite of him being absolutely possessive of her, dolores is complicit and beyond that doesn't even care very much, her heart really always belonged to the man who ran a harem of little girls that she aged out of... that moment when the inept and inexperienced schoolboy nervously asks dolores out on the date and she accepts, while in that selfsame moment mocking him to humbert who even still she is secretly manipulating...

i felt that moment

tfw i am the schoolboy

>>14556003
honestly commie blocks.
as bad as the corpo shit is you can choose not to see it
living in a commie block is a constant misery

>have to write 2-3 pages about any topic by Tuesday

Are there any famous writers who had no friends and were weird, repellent spergs?

>>13922721
>and just read books
I haven't read regularly since I was 12. I missed parties to play WoW and Minecraft.

>>13920356

>are you happy?
no
>what makes you happy?
not working

WHAT DOES ANYTHING THEIR DISCUSSING HAVE TO DO WITH HAPPINESS....im so lost

>>12844786
my two problems are no job and no gf
i just try not to worry about it too much

I'm about to go on SSRIs because it's the only way I can pass my final term of college. Will this evaporate what little creative thought I have? Have any good authors ever been on SSRIs?

>>12810543
pynchon-recluse level fantasy, its just a fantasy

No. There is nothing to learn.

I grow old
I grow old

>mom found the barnes & noble wishlist

What happens when the genius works just as hard as you do?

>>12074539
same here but I'm at 13 years. I'm 24 years old

I blew my chance to get a legitimate publishing gig as early as senior year of highschool. My teacher was a published author and LOVED my work. She told me that she'd do whatever it took to make sure my talent was not wasted, but I was too nervous to write anything significant because I believed that she was just tired of reading so many average high-school kid papers.

>>9866786
>Stavrogin's confession
>any scene with Kirillov

>>9528440
I doing entrance exams this spring and I've completely failed my literature/linguistics aspirations.
STEM it's gonna be then, couple of week until physics/chemistry entrance exams

I've cried over a book only once.

At the end of 100 Years Solitude a now excessively old, blind Ursula discovers that her grandsons and granddaughters were in fact mocking her, writing offensive remarks on her face.

She cried, and I cried with her.

>>9397113
>polish your craft for your entire teenagehood and adulthood
>discover in your mid '20s that no one cares anymore about art and the ones who do deal mostly with dead authors
>realize that you have to whore yourself out in order to make it, but you're not enough of a charlatan to do that

Just put a bullet in my head, please.

A story of an average guy, living his last high school year (not my diary desu, pinky promise)

He is pretty silent and values humility, which gives him an air of honor which others respect
It's mostly because he sees himself as a shepherd and tries to handle other people without being condescending while behind his words he feels he is slightly superior to others
However, his role has created him obstacles. He is too cold and calm to enjoy parties or to establish close relationships, despite attemps at befriending people. When an intelligent girl he has grown fond of is picked right from under his nose by a small, moustached man with strong glasses, he comes to revalue his lifechoices and tries to prove himself that he wasn't wrong about who he was.
In school, the last tests are behind the corner and he must concentrate on them.
On the bus, he sees the most beautiful girl he has ever seen. Later he finds out they are in the same school and seeks her name.
A week before the test he goes to a party, where he finds the girl and goes to chat with her. He is absolutely lost with the girl, he has never felt like this. He hangs out with her and she shows signs of interest.
He rushes through the tests, not really caring about them.
Spring comes along and soon they will have the ending ceremonies. He finds the girl running off with many boys, pretending she doesn't even know him. He tries to take solace in his books, but with the sun out, he feels drawn to the outside world. The test results come and he has barely passed them.
In the spring ceremony, after which they are relieved high school, there are titles given out (Best teacher, hottest girl etc.) and when there are titles of titles of "Cleverest person" and "The schools nicest person" he secretly hopes he would be recognized, but he is served a humiliation as the girl he was fond picks the first and her boyfriend the latter.
During the evening parties there is shot chess and he ends up playing against the beautiful girls new partner, a popular and loud person whom the narrator has made many negative remarks throughout the book. He has considered himself an experienced player, but is completely outplayed in front of all the people in the school, who take it as a sort of victory for "their guy"
Filled with impotent rage over his revealed mediocrity, he drunkenly starts raving how shit everyone in their high school was and how he's glad he wont see any of them. Everybody is very condescending towards him "Don't take it so seriously", until he is thrown out by the only friend he got from the whole school. He passes out on the sidewalk in the cool spring rain.
The book ends with bitter remarks over how there is no dignified in humility and silence, as it is better to be arrogant and loud, hated and loved than to live as already dead. The narrator concludes that he has trapped himself in his character, which he continues to play with no determination in the worklife.