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I’ve begun my voyage in a paper boat without a bottom; I will fly to the moon in it. I have been folded along a crease in time, a weakness in the sheet of life. Now, you've settled on the opposite side of the paper to me; I can see your traces in the ink that soaks through the fibre, the pulped vegetation. When we become waterlogged, and the cage disintergrates, we will intermingle. When this paper aeroplane leaves the cliff edge, and carves parallel vapour trails in the dark, we will come together.
Dunno if this is the place to ask but I've been trying to decipher what the fuck the speak is talking about in this quote. For those who don't know it's from the "game" titled, "Dear Esther".
Anyone wanna help me out? This game has quite a few quotes that really stand out to me for some reason, yet I have no idea what in the hell they mean!
Picture unrelated: My pirate kitty
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/lit/ is being boring today, so
Tell me why this sucks. Be brutal. I don't want to have the will to live when you guys are done.
She visited again. I was sure at the time that she was another figment…
The opening and closing of my cell door made a familiar sound; I heard it often. Hundreds of times a day, as it were, though the door actually opens and closes only once every three days or so. As such, it didn't even phase me to hear it open and close this time. It really did catch my attention when I heard her voice, though.
“Michael,” said she, “It's me...” I knew—and know—this voice well: it is that of my love, Rachel.
I heard Rachel's voice perhaps once a month, give or take; I had heard it twice in the last week. But in the five years I've been living in this cell, Rachel has never once visited me. A weaker man would imagine some higher power torturing him, were he in my cell, but I know well enough that her sweet, sad voice is merely a figment of my fractured mind.
At least, that's what the doctors tell me. I've taken to letting others do my believing for me.
“...Michael? Won't you answer? It's your Rachel. ...I'm...I'm so sorry, Michael...”
I didn't even turn about. I rarely open my eyes anymore. “Begone, figment,” said I. “You are not welcome here.”
“Michael, please! I...I love you! Please, look at me!”
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Hey /lit/ I was wondering... And I know this doesn't really pertain to literature, but what do you all think of the philosophies of Black Metal? When I first heard about it I was just a stupid freshmen in High School and only saw the jokes bands and thought this was a joke. Jump forward five years I start listening again and start to find the real bands, and I notice the way the back grounds for their album covers are. Usually they show some form of nature, and if they do show the band members it's usually made in a way showing how small man is compared to nature and life in general. Then these people lived such extreme lives but yet the lived them to the fullest extent which so many people cannot say they've done.
Now My question for you is, what are we to the world? We look up to these great philosophers of lost times, yet we can only begin to understand what ran through their minds.Who are we as people, and what is the ultimate goal in life?