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/lit/ - Literature


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11913186 No.11913186 [Reply] [Original]

>Those of us who aren’t homosexuals wish we had the courage to be. Our distaste for action can’t help but feminize us. We missed our true calling as housewives and idle chatelaines because of a sexual mix-up in our current incarnation. Although we don’t believe this one bit, to act as though we do smacks of irony’s very blood.
What did Pessoa mean by this?

>> No.11913201

>>11913186
What book?

>> No.11913203

>>11913201
your dad's diary desu

>> No.11913209

permabanning pessoafags when

>> No.11913213

>>11913186
That you should post your yummy skinny ass

>> No.11913217

>>11913186
How do I awaken my friends to the sublime ecstasy of male-male love...

>> No.11913224
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11913224

>>11913201

>> No.11913229

>>11913186
???

>> No.11913234

I'm filtering Pessoa from now on.

>> No.11913304

>>11913186
That's enough Pessoa for today. Next he's be saying how much he loves sucking cocks.

>> No.11913322

He wishes he had a strong woman - mommy breadwinner that could enable him sitting at home writing. It's not homolust.
Also you can't deny the literary life is a retreat from the cruel competitive world, which is regarded as a feminine trait

>> No.11913324

>Those of us who aren’t homosexuals wish we had the courage to be
Ok, I get it
>Our distaste for action can’t help but feminize us.
What?
>We missed our true calling as housewives and idle chatelaines because of a sexual mix-up in our current incarnation.
You lost me
>Although we don’t believe this one bit, to act as though we do smacks of irony’s very blood.
I honestly have no idea what he's saying here. Please help a brainlet understand this.

>> No.11913331

>>11913324
He’s saying he wishes he was a woman because they do nothing all day and it’s acceptable.

>> No.11913364

Posting the whole Declaration of Difference

The things of city and state have no power over us. It doesn’t matter that the ministers and their courtiers shamelessly mishandle the nation’s affairs. All of this occurs outside, like mud on a rainy day. We have nothing to do with it, however much it may have to do with us.

We are likewise indifferent to great convulsions such as war and crises around the world. As long as they don’t come to our house, we don’t care on whose door they knock. This attitude would appear to be founded on a profound contempt for others, but its real basis is merely a sceptical view of ourselves.

We’re not kind or charitable. Not because we’re the opposite, but because we’re neither one way nor the other. Kindness is the form of delicacy that belongs to crude souls. It interests us as a phenomenon that takes place in other people, who have other ways of thinking. We observe without approving or disapproving. Our vocation is to be nothing.

We would be anarchists if we had been born in the classes which call themselves underprivileged, or in any of the others from which one can move up or down. But we are for the most part individuals born in the cracks between classes and social divisions – nearly always in that decadent space between the aristocracy and the upper-middle class, the social niche of geniuses and lunatics with whom it’s possible to get along.

Action disconcerts us, partly because of our physical incompetence, but mainly because it offends our moral sensibility. We consider it immoral to act. It seems to us that every thought is debased when expressed in words, which transform the thought into the property of others, making it understandable to anyone who can understand it.

We’re sympathetic towards the occult and the secret arts. We are not occultists, however. We weren’t born with the kind of will it takes, let alone the patience to educate and develop such a will into the perfect instrument of a wizard or hypnotist. But we sympathize with occultism, especially since it tends to express itself in ways that many who read and even think they understand it don’t understand a thing. Its arcane attitude is arrogantly superior. It is, in addition, a rich source of mysterious and terrifying sensations: astral larvae, the strange beings with strange bodies evoked in its temples by ritual magic, and the immaterial presences that hover all around our unperceiving senses, in the physical silence of inner sound – all of this comforts us in darkness and distress with the caress of its sticky, horrid hand.

1/2

>> No.11913377

>>11913364
But we don’t sympathize with occultists when they act as apostles and champions of humanity; this strips them of their mystery. The only valid reason for an occultist to operate in the astral realm is for the sake of a higher aesthetic, not for the insidious purpose of doing good to others.

Almost unawares we harbour an ancestral sympathy for black magic for the forbidden forms of transcendental science, and for the Lords of Power who sold themselves to Condemnation and a degenerate Reincarnation. The eyes of our weak, vacillating souls lose themselves – like a bitch in heat – in the theory of inverse degrees, in corrupted rites, and in the sinister curve of the descendent, infernal hierarchy.

Like it or not, Satan exerts an attraction on us like a male on a female. The serpent of Material Intelligence has wound around our heart, as around the symbolic caduceus of the God who communicates: Mercury, lord of Understanding.

Those of us who aren’t homosexuals wish we had the courage to be. Our distaste for action can’t help but feminize us. We missed our true calling as housewives and idle chatelaines because of a sexual mix-up in our current incarnation. Although we don’t believe this one bit, to act as though we do smacks of irony’s very blood.

None of this is out of meanness, just weakness. In private we adore the Bad, not because it’s bad, but because it’s stronger and more intense than the Good, and all that is strong and intense is attractive to nerves that should have belonged to a woman. Pecca fortiter can’t apply to us, for we have no force, not even the force of intelligence, which is the only one we could ever claim. To think of sinning forcefully – that’s the most we can do with this severe dictum. But even this is not always possible, for our inner life has its own reality which we sometimes find painful just because it is a reality. The existence of laws governing the association of ideas (along with all other mental operations) is insulting to our inherent lack of discipline.

>> No.11913387

>>11913324
being homo is ironic in essence and pessoa says ...and irony is good!

>> No.11913388

>>11913331
>Although we don’t believe this one bit, to act as though we do smacks of irony’s very blood.
What does this mean? Isn't he refuting everything else he just said?

>> No.11913395

based pessoa

>> No.11913412

>>11913324
He's a solipsistic, meek soiboi who would feel more comfortable being a woman.

>> No.11913420

>>11913387
pessoa had a gf