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/lit/ - Literature

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4092121 No.4092121 [Reply] [Original]

Greatest writers of all time thread.
Seriously though not giving a shit about anyone but myself has greatly improved my mental health and helped me through depression

>> No.4092133

>>4092121
what was opressing you?

curch? mom dad?

>> No.4092142

>>4092133
Gilfrwnd

>> No.4092171
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4092171

>>4092133
>>4092142
people telling me what to do!!

>> No.4092173

>>4092142
White Guys Thinking on GFs: What They Are, Why They Don't Need Them, How Best To Get Them, How Best to Rationalize Not Having Them

An Introductioni to Philosophy: Plato to Zizek
Introduction by Peter Singer: Save the World and She'll Love You 4Real

>> No.4092183

my right testicle hurts and it's a lump in it. is it cancer?

>> No.4092195

>>4092183
the big question is, how do you die without a shitload of pain and without telling anyone about it

>> No.4092197

>>4092121
>not giving a shit about anyone but myself
I hope you don't think that has anything to do with Stirner.

>> No.4092199

>>4092197
>m-muh secret interpretations
stop deluding yourself into thinking his work was any deeper than that.

>> No.4092276

>>4092199
It's not about a deeper interpretation but one that is blatantly wrong. If you think Stirner somehow dismissed affection and caring about other people then you haven't read him or just conveniently skimmed through his work (or wiki) and then created a convenient caricature in order to dismiss him.

>> No.4092390
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4092390

>>4092121
Michael Ende

/thread

>> No.4092401

Considering how fucking pathetic I am as an individual, I think that would be worse for my mental health.


You must be some kind of deity

>> No.4092416

Again, he doesn’t know what to do. He decides to drink the rest of the wiper fluid while figuring it out. He takes out the bottle, and is removing the cap, when he glances to the side and sees something. Something in the sand. At the bottom of the dune, off to the side, he sees something strange. It’s a flat area, in the sand. He stops taking the cap of the bottle off, and tries to look closer. The area seems to be circular. And it’s dark - darker than the sand. And, there seems to be something in the middle of it, but he can’t tell what it is. He looks as hard as he can, and still can tell from here. He’s going to have to go down there and look.

He puts the bottle back in his pocket, and starts to stumble down the dune. After a few steps, he realizes that he’s in trouble - he’s not going to be able to keep his balance. After a couple of more sliding, tottering steps, he falls and starts to roll down the dune. The sand it so hot when his body hits it that for a minute he thinks he’s caught fire on the way down - like a movie car wreck flashing into flames as it goes over the cliff, before it ever even hits the ground. He closes his eyes and mouth, covers his face with his hands, and waits to stop rolling.

>> No.4092417

He stops, at the bottom of the dune. After a minute or two, he finds enough energy to try to sit up and get the sand out of his face and clothes. When he clears his eyes enough, he looks around to make sure that the dark spot in the sand it still there and he hadn’t just imagined it.

So, seeing the large, flat, dark spot on the sand is still there, he begins to crawl towards it. He’d get up and walk towards it, but he doesn’t seem to have the energy to get up and walk right now. He must be in the final stages of dehydration he figures, as he crawls. If this place in the sand doesn’t have water, he’ll likely never make it anywhere else. This is his last chance.

He gets closer and closer, but still can’t see what’s in the middle of the dark area. His eyes won’t quite focus any more for some reason. And lifting his head up to look takes so much effort that he gives up trying. He just keeps crawling.

>> No.4092422

Finally, he reaches the area he’d seen from the dune. It takes him a minute of crawling on it before he realizes that he’s no longer on sand - he’s now crawling on some kind of dark stone. Stone with some kind of marking on it -a pattern cut into the stone. He’s too tired to stand up and try to see what the pattern is - so he just keeps crawling. He crawls towards the center, where his blurry eyes still see something in the middle of the dark stone area.

His mind, detached in a strange way, notes that either his hands and knees are so burnt by the sand that they no longer feel pain, or that this dark stone, in the middle of a burning desert with a pounding, punishing sun overhead, doesn’t seem to be hot. It almost feels cool. He considers lying down on the nice cool surface.

Cool, dark stone. Not a good sign. He must be hallucinating this. He’s probably in the middle of a patch of sand, already lying face down and dying, and just imagining this whole thing. A desert mirage. Soon the beautiful women carrying pitchers of water will come up and start giving him a drink. Then he’ll know he’s gone.

>> No.4092456

>>4092183
Go get it checked..?

>> No.4092494

>>4092173
What kind of garbage includes that hack Zizek?