/lit/ - Literature

>>18910601
>don't you think there are more interesting topics of conversation
No. I don't. I'm honestly sick and tired of feminists dictating political discourse, education, and forcing censorship on every comedian, writer, and artist. I'm sick and fucking tired of men being publicly shamed or canceled because they dare admit to being attracted to women. As if it's a bad thing to look at and admire something you're sexually attracted to. I'm sick of being told that a man's libido is evil. I'm sick of the double standards where women are free to explore their sexuality but men aren't. I'm sick of female artists who can make an entire career out of making nothing but paintings and sculptures and stories about vaginas and be hailed as revolutionaries. I'm sick of feminists slinging the word "pedophile" around to men who are attracted to women who are 18 years old, and I'm sick of everything that's a little risque being labeled as "pornography" by feminists. No, an 18 year old girl in a bikini is not child pornography, Karen, go pop some more anti-depressants.

So to reiterate what I said, if you aren't "triggering" feminists you aren't a real artist. If you're tiptoeing around art and self censoring you're not a real artist. So I say gaze with maximum maleness. Describe your characters titties with perfect precision. If you don't like fat girls, put a fat girl in your story and let your reader know how utterly disgusted they make you feel. How every jiggle is an insult to your eye. And when some blue checkmark on twitter goes "ugh. This is so toxic," say "yes. It is. Because that's how I feel, baby."

>>7136351
>>7136338
>:^)

>>7120081
I love Dante being all "hold me bro". Such a great painting

>>6936616

Post shit that blows you away.

>"The ideal drop is from an aircraft, your muscles relaxed, your pilot puzzled, your packed parachute shuffled off, cast off, shrugged off – farewell, shootka (little chute)! Down you go, but all the while you feel suspended and buoyed as you somersault in slow motion like a somnolent tumbler pigeon, and sprawl supine on the eiderdown of the air, or lazily turn to embrace your pillow, enjoying every last instant of soft, deep, death-padded life, with the earth's green seesaw now above, now below, and the voluptuous crucifixion, as you stretch yourself in the growing rush, in the nearing swish, and then your loved body's obliteration in the Lap of the Lord."

also: the entirety of the Duino Elegies