/lit/ - Literature

A beautiful woman passed me in the street and smiled at me today. It was almost physically painful. Later I had a daydream where she offered to kiss me and discovered I have reached the point of self-loathing where I reject imaginary women on the grounds that I'm a useless human being with nothing to offer them.
All I can really do is read and all too often I really don't feel like it. So I waste time and know I am wasting it. And sometimes I actually can't read at all, can't do anything, and that's better in the moment, in that it absolves me of responsibility, but later it's worse, because I know that much of the time I really am a useless cripple.
>>22901791
Hateful is the dark-blue sky,
Vaulted o'er the dark-blue sea.
Death is the end of life, ah, why
Should life all labor be?
Let us alone. Time driveth onward fast,
And in a little while our lips are dumb.
Let us alone. What is it that will last?
All things are taken from us, and become
Portions and parcels of the dreadful past.
Let us alone. What pleasure can we have
To war with evil? Is there any peace
In ever climbing up the climbing wave?