/lit/ - Literature

How is it that regular descriptive speech seems so pathetic in its attempt to communicate the splendor of life and almost insultingly reducing it to a joke at times, while a well constructed series of words on a book embellish everything and act like a sort of seasoning to the human experience itself, if that makes sense? Unironically what's the secret here? Because it might as well be magic if you ask me. Perplexes my stupid head every time.

At what point should you accept to abandon your dreams/aspirations and realize that you will never amount to a 1/10 of what you envision in your head? This NEET life has gotten a stranglehold on me.
This post may have been written while a few tears were being shed.