Franz Kafka - Tumblr Posts
With very swift and running feets you had passed from Romance to Realism.
Oscar Wilde
i can literally write sonnets bout missing my lost necklace.
(me)
July 14, 1912 The Diaries Of Franz Kafka, 1914-1923
[ID: July 14. Picked cherries on the ladder with a little basket. Was high up in the tree. END ID]
"I am not well; I could have built the Pyramids with the effort it takes me to cling on to life and reason."
Franz Kafka, Letters to Felize
"I cannot make you understand. I cannot make anyone understand what is happening inside me. I cannot even explain it to myself"
-Franz Kafka, "The Metamorphosis"
Picture painted by Zdzisław Beksiński
“Do not waste your time looking for an obstacle - maybe there is none.”
— Franz Kafka
May comes and goes, but the sorrows stay with me forever. Welcome to my mind May.
Top quote excerpt from Franz Kafka's diary. Pictures found on Pinterest.
An Introduction
Hello, this is sort of a basic introduction of me, and what this blog will upload. Obviously I will branch out further with time, as I change as a person, yet currently I would like to grab the right blogger's attention -
I am pearl, I am a very curious academic person and always open to learning new things. I want to start uploading on Tumblr to discuss my Interests with like minded people - I don't have many friends in my day to day life, and even fewer that I share my academic Interests with, so I'd be thrilled for people to interact with my blog.
She / Her | Queer | Marxist | Academic
Interests;
Literature; More specifically, Classics and Gothic. I find stories that examine the human condition to be very interesting! If you have suggestions for novels, I encourage you to leave me some.
Art; I sketch almost daily. I love the romantic period and Oil paintings in general..
Tv; I like philosophical movies and ones about girlhood. Also dark academia.
Favorites;
Artist; Lana del Rey
Novel; The Secret History
Movie; Heathers (1989)
I intend to upload my daily observations, opinions of Novels and other media, Communist content, and thoughts about my Academic interests - Classical literature and the Torah. This'll be my corner and if you'd like, you're welcome to stay.
Stay yourself, stay curious
Has anyone encountered the phenomenon of people pretending to read?
I was chatting with a girl and we were speaking about Kafka. She claimed to really love his work and even that she visited his residence in Prague, yet when I asked what she read she said she hadn't read his stories yet... Is that common?
Stay yourself, stay curious
future past:
because its everything, no, everything was never the deal. shut the door on terrible times. my shoes are an altar: remembrance: the things i love. can i trust you? would you lie to me? i wish i could disappear into the ground. be wiped from everyone's memory. i was never here, i never existed. maybe i'll wake up. i don't remember my first out of body experience. i don't remember my last. its amazing, the things you miss when you aren't paying. paying attention. i'm not ready for the questions. the stares. the comments. i've faced enough alienation in my life, and i don't need more. i don't enjoy it. but i worship it: alienation. he gave me words, no, he took me by the neck, threw me against a wall, and shoved it down my throat. and i will worship it. do i tell her? should i wait until i'm older? would you lie to me? i run in these circles. its your choice: my diary is an open book and you can decide if you want to know everything about me. its a tv series, you can't miss an episode unless you want to be lost. i'm the only fan of this one, i may be the only one that fully understands my story. my references. i may be the only one to ever read my writing in its entirety. someday i want to help the kids. not because i am good at comforting, but because i can show them there is hope for the future. i want to be what i've never had. growing up is terrifying, and all i see are unhappy adults. not just you, mom. its everyone. everyone's miserable. i can't spend the rest of my life wandering dead mall halls, sunny "self care days" drag on for years, and before you know it, i've wasted my life on never growing up. they tell me to be a kid now. i'm already feeling the stress of someone far older than me. and all i can do about it is lay idle in bed. she says i'm depressed. its not something i'm new to, but its something i'm beginning to fully realize the extent of its ass kicking abilities. showering isn't a chore for everyone. getting out of bed isn't dreadful for everyone. friends aren't terrible. i miss that glorious time when i loved my friends. now it feels like haven't been loved in years: i don't know what it is with you and the joy you suck out of my life all while making me think you're the best thing thats ever happened to me. don't feel sorry for me, i've never been better. i feel exhausted just getting out of bed and crossing my bedroom. i don't know how i'm still functional. i'm barely keeping it together. but maybe someday i'll be something. maybe i'll look back on this and think: realize: i'm delusional. the most beautiful thing ever is how these words withstand the years of seasons changing, wind battering the shit out of me, golden, heat, sub-zero. these are just glimpses of feelings turned thoughts turned words. maybe this is who i really am. thirty years from now i'll be on the same hamster wheel in my head, running in these same circles. peace: is a boat on the atlantic ocean. 50°f. overcast day. me and kafka ride up the shore, canadian water. back home theres vinyls. stonewall. silence. but for now i'm a---
i find its a lot easier to understand my window of tolerance nowadays than i ever have before. i think its funny: i can look back and see when i was thinking rationally rather than when i wasn't. and its all thanks to different circumstances. being overwhelmed isn't an excuse to be an asshole, however, being overwhelmed is an excuse to be an asshole. honestly, i'm transcribing every word in my head as it comes. and you eat this shit right up. god, am i a disillusioned rockstar already? god, i'm so tired. god, are you real? rocks and stars, hell, the rockstars say you aren't. someone outta put a bullet in his head. for now i'm twenty two twenty twenty two twenty twenty two twenty twenty two twenty and its only a matter of time before you're crossing country borders to run from what you're doing. soon everyone will know. you go against all the ethos, pathos, and logos, or maybe just ethics. its. a grey conversation.
but everything i want to say has already been said
a thousand times before
and the speed of my electric impulses
can’t be matched by the words that they spark.
A literatura é sempre uma expedição à verdade.
Franz Kafka
i’d like to bring this to everyone’s notice that mahito reads franz kafka and virgina woolf