/lit/ - Literature

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He stares up out of his blue face at the wall; placidly drunk on this month’s obsession, a small game his Dad says looks like a smeared Jackson what’s-his-name-it-starts-with-a-P painting, N.L faces himself with a wall of no feature, uniform in its plainness, a writing board for thoughts -what am I doing--it’s 4 a.m--I’ve wasted another day- which then sit back relaxed in a blue headed swivel of another effortless hour. It’s placid, the whole thing, very usually placid with all kinds of colors and violence and N.L’s placid face and loud, tuned out fans that race against the heat-loving circuits and wires that N.L expensively one summer put together when the money he had been saving, he found out belatedly, would no longer be of use in the same way he thought it would be. Now, drunk as he is, he finds peace and forgiveness in the GPU, “gibber pof u”, and a small Keep On Truckin’ sticker on the side with transparent plastic where red lights flicker their way through. R. Crumb, Keep On Truckin’ guy, he left some fat woman, his then wife, one night without telling her in January of 1967, hitching a ride to that LSD hazey San Francisco, and he, ugly, awful, and perverted as he is, and as his work -is-, slithered his way into a success, kept on truckin’ as it were, and, as it is, a semi-sometimes role model to N.L, who he himself finds to be ugly, awful, and perverted. He holds on to those things, N.L, in a self-identifying way, a way that maybe makes him less threatening, maybe appealing almost to where, through self depreciation that N.L assumes as his humor identifier, people could think of him as like the funny, nice, self aware guy, and look at his premature balding, his thick eyebrows and glasses and stupid voice, his pudgy, over-sat body, and his weird thing with eye contact, maybe they could look at these things as if, with self depreciation, he knows they know, so that they know he knows they know, and everyone can have a laugh and he can be a normal, non-threatening person assuredly and without doubt, no doubt. But N.L. doubts that people know. Not that they’re too stupid to know, no, it’s just that N.L doesn’t afford the opportunity, doesn’t go outside very much anymore, and, when he does, he doesn’t say much to people who wouldn’t want to hear his negativity anyway, even though on occasion he’s ignored their dry faces to say -hope you didn’t have to get up at the ass crack of dawn just to serve little ol’ me some coffee- to which a dry face breathy haha walks away quickly to a no customer silence. N.L, after such occasions, ruminates, abandons cafes, plans future hellos and thank yous to be shorter and never agains to never happen again, spends more time in blue light, spends more time in his awfulness, sleeps longer, and finally needs a double shot espresso in order to make it through work for the last few hours.

I'm gonna be staying in a cabin by the sea for the next week, with little to no outside contact (no phone signal, wifi etc). What should i read to pass the time inbetween long hikes?

>>8449310

>>7452905
The Myth of Sisyphus - Albert Camus

>>7452932
The Three Stigmata of Palmer Eldritch - Philip K. Dick

>>7452961
The Upton Sinclair novel the movie was based on.

>>7452963
Hunger - Knut Hamsun

>>7452964
The Once and Future King - T.H. White

>>7453104
Woman in the Dunes - Kobo Abe

>>7453107
Greek Mythology

>>7453159
The Great Gatsby - F. Scott Fitzgerald

>>7453314
Independent People - Halldor Laxness

>>7453318
Ivanhoe - Walter Scott

>>7453348
My Childhood - Maxim Gorky

>>7453350
The Sublime Object of Ideology - Slavoj Zizek

Ecclesiastes 1:9

"What has been will be again, what has been done will be done again; there is nothing new under the sun."

"What has been will be again,
what has been done will be done again;
there is nothing new under the sun."

Ecclesiastes 1:9

>>7049805
Mr. Turner

>>6742029
>tfw OC

thank you anon, always nice to know I'm capable of resonating with another real human bean despite being a misanthropic shut-in