/lit/ - Literature

On this cool rainy day I urgently desire to sit cross-legged on a wooden floor, in a warmly aerated room, bathed in evening light, alongside a similarly cross-legged enthusiastic youthful girl, perusing botanical drawings or an encyclopedia of curious cnidaria and plankton, perhaps practicing a noble craft of calligraphy or pottery afterwards on the floor as well. Appreciating the gentle fragrance of her, beholding images and captions describing God's magnificent natural creations, sidetracking the humble, non-pompous, meek conversation into how humanity is the true jewel of all of creation, glancing in her eyes.

As I am desirous of the monastic celibate life, I do not see females in a sexual matter, so such an encounter would merely be the mutual appreciation of our varying intellects and sensibilities together. An encounter as two children male and female would share together. I never had a childhood female friend, so perhaps I simply long to communicate with them as two children would, without the pox of a corrupting sexuality and rot from Satan (yes, as a Catholic I affirm sexuality has a beautiful place and can indeed be just, however at this current comfy moment, I simply want to communicate to a girl in a wholesome manner as to see their perspectives on things such as the beauty of creation).
Has anyone here sat cross-legged in noble discussion near a gentle friend in childhood? Is it as good as my imagination makes it to be? Do girls want to discuss the innumerable details of plankton or macro algae? Gaze upon sea urchin embryos I have recorded in my microscope? In modest attire in a comfy evening? No? Very well, the monastic life I will choose, but first I want to do intense blue collar labor in this world, get good in one physical skill, master the sun and steel, then my retreat would be justified and not a sort of escapism. I must prepare and endure the greatest suffering in this world so I can resign into spiritual combat in a monastic cell. Perhaps I will be allowed to grow algae in the courtyard? Or perhaps the monastery will be more open air, with vast forests one could contemplate in, sniffing the lichens. But first I will suffer. Stick me in the engine room of a cargo ship. I must work. I must toil. I was born wealthy and without tribulation. Show me my iniquity, God. Show me how to perfect myself. Show me suffering. Show me toil. Show me what it means to be human. Show me how to do good and be strong. Show me to discern what I shall do in this life. What I shall concentrate on. Liberate me from false academia, false research. Is a bio degree really worth it? 100 years ago I would cut sugarcane in the fields and discover suffering. I would then swim in healthy reefs afterwards and observe marine life. But now the fields are no more. I will stagnate in University. I want honest labor. Trabajo honesto. Is a modern day biologist an honest laborer? Sometimes I think about moving to the far reaches of South and Central America.