/lit/ - Literature

>>11276000
>>11276287
>if consciousness is interdependent on our senses, then I suppose our conscious would then formulate around the nexus of our remaining sensations.

Lets just get to the part where we talk about plant neuro-biology, what it is like to be a bat, then accept that each consciousness within a group has predictability and that doesn't mean that each is Not specifically complex and unique - the setting apart or obscuring through grouping is only a useful method of finding different perspectives on some thing in order to idealise an image to capture the essentials, truth-to-nature.

>>11250795
>Hamilton Morris will also be there
When's the glue episode coming? That's all I want to know.

Bonus for main character.

Wooooooo!

>>11123603
So stop and evaluate a certain set of priorities and why you think you need them. Find all of what you need about yourself and explore a belief and then shut the fuck up about your feelings that negative for the sake of being negative. The opposite of hating yourself isn't always loving everything about yourself dumbass. Work towards understand, know thyself, and treat yourself kindly so that you actually improve in your understanding of yourself more and more.
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Fucking /lit/tles and your New York style turning tests where you find out if you have authenticity of not. Bunch of fucking proto-yuppies that are too up their own asses to be seen to give a damn about anything. They're all just waiting around for the day when they're famous and can have their publicist inform them of how to invest themselves into one issue that they can actually make a change in rather than coming across as a shallow SJW larper. Then they'll get someone to help them develop their hand muscles for live feed of some circle jerk. Fuck NY and fuck your sincerity games.

>>11102294
I see his hand, my hand. I am the cricket god. Here and now, just how, how, how? But I am also the sculpture of the cricket egg, so I must crack. So I must crack the shell and tell you I am not the cricket god at all. Which I feel I am, but I am not. I am not the slow immolation of being. I am that feeling of protest against how much fuel remains in my torch. I am a hell. And by which all are cast, I am given over to the pleasure of my own company. I am happy to have someone to talk to.