/lit/ - Literature

I wish I had friends. I really miss my ex but increasingly I think I just miss the regular human contact and physical touch that I crave rather than missing her in a romantic way necessarily. I know she's 100% over me now but I can't help but sometimes daydream about what our future could have been. She didn't want to travel like I do but maybe domesticity would have been nice. But I know that I would have managed to find a way to be miserable.

I love art but I can't help but wonder if it's all fucking pointless. I talked to my dad and he thinks that art enriches your life but can't change it. I mostly agree. I think it sometimes can but only very rarely. What's the point though? I get drunk and write about how it's all pointless. I read or watch something and I cry and I feel things but then it's all just over. I just go back to my life and I still have to at some point wake up early again and go to work. Nothing changes. But then maybe it's worth it for those brief moments you feel something, you experience transcendence. But those moments are so short! Does that mean that all the rest of it is just bleak life support for those brief moments? But maybe it's not just about transcendent moments. Maybe quiet contentment is ok too. I don't fucking know. Maybe I just like to think I like art because I don't have friends or a personality.