/lit/ - Literature

>>19140888
I've been infatuated with this woman 12 years my senior for a very long time, and I'm pretty sure she's colder than an iceberg and possibly very heartless.
She's 43 years old, 9.5/10 looks, but also single, unmarried and no children. Three years ago I was bewildered by the fact, but I've pretty much figured out why that is.

What happens to people like me who have been disillusioned out of false hopes but haven't been sold on christianity? Hanging out in tradcath and spergler threads and picking up your book suggestions has ruined me. So far I've been made to lose hope in:
>any salvation coming for us out of technological progress and its false promises for a happy life in mere comfort
>any salvation coming for us out of scientific advancement that will bestow us with some great knowledge and supposedly wane away our existential dreads and fear of the future or death
>any salvation coming for us out of political """progress""" that will mould a perfect society of endless opportunities and have us singing kumbaya in the starlight
>any salvation coming for us out of X or Y economic theory that'll provide us with abundant material possessions and drown out our spiritual needs
>any other hopeless materialist outlook peddled by bugmen on twitter/reddit/instagram story
What's left for me then? Do I have to embrace a meme like Camus or Sartre's existentialism and call it a day? Do I keep looking? If so, where outside of christianity?

>The play is preceded by the most austere of all preludes: the infinite void, and matter restlessly moving to bring forth it knows not what. Then, by the millionth millionth chance —what tragic irony— the conditions at one point of space and time bubble up into that tiny fermentation which is the beginning of life. Everything seems to be against the infant hero of our drama — just as everything seems against the youngest son or ill-used stepdaughter at the opening of a fairy tale. But life somehow wins through.
>With infinite suffering, against all but insuperable obstacles, it spreads, it breeds, it complicates itself, from the amoeba up to the plant, up to the reptile, up to the mammal. We glance briefly at the age of monsters. Dragons prowl the earth, devour one another, and die. Then comes the theme of the younger son and the ugly duckling once more. As the weak, tiny spark of life began amidst the huge hostilities of the inanimate, so now again, amidst the beasts that are far larger and stronger than he, there comes forth a little naked, shivering, cowering creature, shuffling, not yet erect, promising nothing, the product of another millionth millionth chance.

Which philosophy is the furthest away from new materialism and naturalism? What does it argue for?
>t. never ready anything outside of Hobbes and Locke