/lit/ - Literature

>enter library
>see obvious libtard group sitting on one end
>sit down on the other end
>enter more libtards
>they sit down right next to me

>tfw 250 word essay due in tomorrow

What do I do /lit/? I'm fucked.

>>6523762
I gave my old crush Mrs. Dalloway. She never read it.

When I mentioned Virginia Woolf to my current crush she thought I was talking about Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? the play. Yeaaah.

>tfw you will never ogle cute boys at a symposium with Socrates, Pericles, Thucydides and Sophocles

>tfw you will never attend an orgy with Virgil, Horace, Livy and Ovid

>tfw you will never get sloshed down the pub with Sidney, Marlowe, Spenser, Jonson and Shakespeare

>tfw you will never take copious amounts of opium with Coleridge, Blake, Byron, Shelley and Keats

>tfw you will never share a taxi with Joyce and Proust or live in Italy with Yeats and Pound or have dinner with Woolf and Eliot

Why even live? What's the point?

2nd Noble truth

> Wants lead to suffering
> "But I want to not suffer?"
> That leads to suffering.
> "Okay, so I want to suffer?"
> That also leads to suffering.
> mfw

>Priam grieving over the death of Hector

>tfw no-one will ever bother reading your 4,000 line modern epic in blank verse

>have female friend
>beautiful and kind
>talk to her every day for hours on end about everything
>fall in love with her
>think about her every day
>she has a long term boyfriend
>know she will never reciprocate my feelings
>say a lot of mean things to her in order to prove to myself that I no longer love her
>stop talking to her
>a year later she and her boyfriend break up
>talking to her again
>says that she was really lonely in her last relationship
>says that she had feelings for me
>says that me going away crushed her
>says that I've always been one of the most amazing people she knows
>she's now dating a mutual friend
>they're deeply in love

Godd I'm a self-sabotaging loser.

That feel when Keats died of tuberculosis at the age of 23 just before he was due to meet Shelley and Byron.

Seriously, imagine if those three lived to old age together. English poetry would be 999999999x greater.

Here's hoping I get a book that isn't a fucking doorstop. Also pls no postmodernism (although I guess they're the same thing).

That feel when everyone has considered you some fucking genius your entire life because of your interest in obscure, 'intellectual' topics like literature, history and philosophy, but deep down you've always known that you are a fraud.