/lit/ - Literature

>>12409847
At least this really hot bartender I saw a night ago hit me up on tinder, asked me for my number and I'm about to go walk through some tranquil fog on my way to sleep with her. Of course its all empty vanity, I'll come home and drink again while my yearning intensifies until I cant withstand it, and I slowly drift off into anxious sleep. Then I have a logic exam tomorrow and its only the third class of the quarter, fuck.

This Kierkegaard quote really touches me.

My sorrow is my knight's castle, which lies like an eagle's eyrie high up upon the mountain peaks among the clouds. No one can take it by storm. From it I fly down into reality and seize my prey; but I do not remain down there, I bring my prey home; and this prey is a picture I weave into the tapestries in my palace. Then I live as one dead. In the baptism of forgetfulness I plunge everything experienced into the eternity of remembrence; everything finite and contingent is forgotten and erased. Then I sith thoughtful like an old man, grey headed, and in a low voice, almost a whisper, explain the pictures; and by my side a child sits and listens, even though he remembers everything before I tell it.