/lit/ analyze and critique my shit, edgy, and nihilistic writing.

Life was nothing but a burden, mundane, pointless, boring thing. There was no longer any joy with observing, I wanted first hand experience, but how could I? I was stuck with the role of the observer of this joyous world. So again, I spent my days, slowly watching as others do what they feel necessary. They ate, they talked, they sang, they cried, and I, I continued to watch.

For the most part, as observer, nobody ever interacted with me, I was let to be with my time, alone but at the same time, not alone. I thought myself to be the only observer in this world of peoples, but there were many. I've seen other observers interact amongst themselves but I kept to myself because I didn't see a reason to interact with them. Ironically, observers observed other observers and one, in particular, observed me. They asked me this: "Do you ever wonder what it's like to not be an observer?" I thought to myself, something I rarely do and replied. "Why would I ever wonder such a thing?" They quarried, "It seems awfully boring to just observe and not experience these events, does it not?"

The question left me utterly confused. Why would I want to experience these things when I could observe these things happen? But I remembered, I no longer feel. Something changed. One day, in my dream, I was no longer the observer, but quite the opposite. For the first time in what felt like ages, I had the opportunity to feel again. And I divulged in it. As I remember, it was the highest pleasure imaginable. I once again felt love, compassion, lust, hate, joy, anger, and many other emotions. As a person, I met others, and others met me. I mixed with the community of peoples and it felt, O' so great. Things came and went. But one thing came in particular, and quickly, I grew attached. It came and stayed for some time and I didn't ever think I could possibly get tired of it. Then, unexpectedly, and without reason, it left. My initial thought was to not think much of it. But as I tried, and tried I did, I could not forget the feeling. I continued to see reminders of that entity, teasing and poking at me. It poked, and poked, and poked, and poked, and poked. Eventually what was love and joy, turned to the opposite, and I then stopped trying to feel and reverted to observing, where I could not feel anymore.

I awoke from that dream, not sure what I had expierenced. In a single night, I expierenced it all, everything possible, the guiltiest of pleasures. I realized that I could not feel those anymore but also realized because of that, I didn't have to ever experience the true feeling of despair and nothingness .

For the first time, I sought the interaction with other observers. In specific, I spoke with the observer that observed me. I said to them: "Could you ask me the question you had asked me yesterday?"

"Do you ever wonder what it's like to not be an observer?" They said. "No, because to feel true pain outweights all emotions."

The last sentence doesn't make sense to me.
Assume it is true what you say that true pain outweights all emotions, that doesn't mean one isn't curious to know what it's like to be an observer.
Why is true pain the deepest emotion anyway?
The whole story offers no insight or challenges one's thinking.
The writing style isn't bad, though.
Stay away from dream stories. It's such a cliche and boring lazy way to tell a story. Think about some real life example. Awake action explaining the same shit.
Or just stop writing and observing and finally talk to the cute girl in the subway

>>8642075
Yea, wrote this in the span of like 30 minutes. I'm either gonna edit or just drop it as a whole as I do that a lot but thanks senpai

>>8640851

Here's an idea: read something other than Pessoa

Like, this is ok, a little clunky in places, but you're not quite as shite as some people on this board, but this entire thing is (ironically) just so completely pointless. It's good practice, but if you keep working on stuff and find better things to write about, I can see you disowning this within (at least) six months

>>8640851
u can always put them in a pastebin and there's also a critique thread open i think.

anyway the writing is easy to read and clean a lot of the time, but the content seems a bit fruitless and mundane. Your writing style is simple (in a good way) and you seem to be able to convey ideas easily. take advantage and write down some actual neat content.