/lit/ - Literature

>>7782166
I understand how you feel; my life is similar; I have found much comfort in taking my emotions themselves as characters; I have found the life of art and emotion in the intuition of love; etc.; my first thought of things past has gone past the general fields of supra-masochism as self-induced by productile industrialities; artifice... what is art? is art artifice, but if so what is human?; can you feel still? can you feel after dissecting all aspects of human thought?; I cannot but feel like the nerd; the idiot; the weirdo; but what is love?; what is what is there to see, to fear, to feel?; this is a growing anxiety in the production of my art; I am already a well-published author in the small circles that I figure on as a protagonist and my characters have always gone more towards the gone more to the things of the emotions themselves than artificialities of love and industrile productioneless maritaginal industrialisities of paridcsites o supra-prmashcoihsim. my the the mfi thing iot be said is that we are way to sedentary to see where this is heading. do you want Paris 2? The literary revolutions?; okay, it IS on /lit/ more than anywhere else; but we are going no-where; we are a stasis people; we sit and talk; we sit mostly; maybe not; but there is little of aritificality to be found of n on a shitps os asdmm ma mb the best questwerty wthew the botto be tior not ntoo be ethat iws the qwerty asju u jj m fsdf I hate fkeeyborards the ras df norma l asdpsect of hot sdt asdtmm m asmdead oekdead oa skk ko adkeodkaeoad fnm mm mm ,. ams fa fkosdfo ko k kt give this ereij ije eletter esan to bemy skids asdf and tell sakdmf y weife a idf love aher and always hweill