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fgallegos

Kafka: The Original King of Burnout ✍️🕳️

Long before burnout became a buzzword, Kafka was living it. “Every obstacle can destroy me.” “No matter how hard I try to get out of bed, I just collapse again.” “My greatest skill? Staying still. My true talent? Spiraling.” “Early rising is the root of all stupidity.” “Starting today, I’ll keep a journal. Daily. No excuses! …Ugh. Wrote nothing. Busy tomorrow too.” “Got scolded at the factory the day before yesterday. Laid on the couch for an hour thinking about jumping out the window.” Kafka didn’t just write existential despair—he lived it, with perfect deadpan delivery. A pioneer of quiet quitting, the OG of ‘I’m trying my best but also... not really.’ This isn’t just relatability. This is philosophical collapse with literary elegance. #Entertainment #Books #Kafka #BurnoutCulture #ExistentialHumor #RelatableQuotes #DarkHumor #ModernClassic #WorkLifeBalance

Kafka: The Original King of Burnout ✍️🕳️
fgallegos

Kafka: “My greatest skill? Total collapse.”

🖋️ A short life. A long echo. Franz Kafka was born on July 3, 1883, in Prague, into a Jewish household dominated by a harsh, authoritarian father and a quiet, compliant mother. This imbalance cast a long shadow over his inner world. — 💔 He loved many women—yet died unmarried. 📄 He worked 15 years in insurance—yet detested bureaucracy. 🛠️ He even invented the first civilian hard hat—because he deeply empathized with factory workers. ✍️ By day, a desk job. By night, a novelist. He believed writing for money was shameful. Art had to be pure, or not at all. In 1924, Kafka died at just 40—too sick to swallow food, he essentially starved to death. His end was as absurd and cruel as the worlds he imagined. His legacy? A whole adjective. “Kafkaesque”—a word for anything that feels like a bureaucratic nightmare wrapped in existential dread. — Here are 10 Kafka quotes to enter his world of darkness, tenderness, and terrifying clarity: 💬 “Life has meaning only because it ends.” 💬 “The heart is a house with two rooms: pain in one, joy in the other. Don’t laugh too loud—you might wake the pain.” 💬 “Hard work alone means nothing. Ants work hard too.” 💬 “We call it a path—but it’s only wandering.” 💬 “Be calm. Let the worst come. Don’t hide—observe. Replace reaction with comprehension.” 💬 “Now, nothing is truly what it claims to be. People speak of ‘home’—but their roots have long been pulled from the earth.” 💬 “If life overwhelms you, block the despair with one hand, and with the other, take notes from the ruins.” 💬 “You don’t know the power of silence. Loudness is often a trick—true strength lies in endurance.” 💬 “Balzac’s cane read: ‘I crush all obstacles.’ Mine would say: ‘All obstacles crush me.’ Still—we both have ‘everything.’” — 🌍 The world changes. Human nature doesn’t. Kafka’s stories—strange, surreal, unrelenting—are still ours. Because while his room was his prison, his words unlocked the prison we all live in. #Entertainment #Books #Kafka #Existentialism #ModernClassic #LiteratureQuotes #Philosophy #Absurdism #HumanCondition #Kafkaesque #DarkLiterature #ReadingCommunity

Kafka: “My greatest skill? Total collapse.”
tylervaughn

Discussing Amaranta in One Hundred Years of Solitude

Amaranta is one of the most pivotal figures in One Hundred Years of Solitude due to her self-imposed repression, which ultimately prevents her from having children with Colonel Aureliano Buendía or her nephew Aureliano José—thus preserving the bloodline of the Buendía family across two generations. Originally, Amaranta was full of life. She and her sister, Rebecca, fell in love with the same man, but Amaranta, unwilling to be the loser, cursed Rebecca and vowed to prevent her marriage to Pietro. Throughout three love affairs, Amaranta always pulled back at the edge of falling into the whirlpool of love. She was conflicted, growing up under the curse of her name, “Amaranta,” raised with the fear instilled by her mother that “incestuous marriages produce children with pig tails.” Amaranta’s painful memories—such as the tragic death of Remedios—made it hard for her to escape her past. She was tortured by fear and chose to repress herself to spare her family and herself further heartache. Perhaps in Amaranta’s mind, only by punishing herself and quietly enduring pain could she bring peace to the Buendía family. However, until the end of her life, Amaranta never truly understood the deep love she felt for her family. Like Colonel Aureliano Buendía, she numbed herself with fear, living in solitude to avoid a tragic end. Some may argue that Amaranta had romantic feelings for Aureliano, but I believe that, because of her fear, Amaranta’s feelings toward him and Rebecca were similar. These emotions were buried deep inside her, blurred between love and hate. Her extreme restraint caused those feelings to dissipate before they even had a chance to emerge. Unlike the cold indifference of Colonel Aureliano Buendía, Amaranta, as Ursula said, possessed “infinite love.” She loved Rebecca so deeply that she made her beautiful burial garments, “no one could have done better, even out of deep love.” She also loved Colonel Aureliano Buendía, remembering the boots he hadn’t worn when he lay in the coffin. If Ursula’s love for the Buendía family was selfless, boundless, and unwavering, Amaranta’s love was one of repression. She had to suppress her feelings, allowing reason to overcome her chaotic desires. In her solitude, she maintained the family’s bloodline. Amaranta, like the other Buendías, was a contradiction, full of complexities. She, too, had a wild nature—a mad mind open to love and the human spirit. There’s something deeply attractive in her—a tragic, multi-layered beauty. Much like how we, often covered in prejudice and societal expectations, become numb in our repression, Amaranta’s fear comes from the tortured soul. Like her, we often can’t blame our fears, and have no choice but to suppress our reckless impulses before they emerge. It’s this complexity, this contradictory yet relatable tragedy, that moves me. #OneHundredYearsOfSolitude #Amaranta #GabrielGarciaMarquez #Literature #Entertainment #Books #FamilyDrama #LatinAmericanLiterature #BookDiscussion #LoveAndFear #LiteratureLovers #LiteratureAnalysis

Discussing Amaranta in One Hundred Years of Solitude
vegalatoya

learning to live with loneliness — reflections from norwegian wood

"If you remember me, then I don’t care if everyone else forgets." — Haruki Murakami, Norwegian Wood There are nights when the silence feels like a heavy blanket, and loneliness presses deep into my chest. Reading Norwegian Wood again, I was struck by how Murakami captures that ache — not just the empty kind, but the bittersweet loneliness that shapes us. Like Toru Watanabe, I’ve wrestled with memories that both comfort and haunt. That strange solitude, when the world feels distant but your mind is loud, is something many of us know too well. Sometimes it’s sitting alone in a café, watching strangers laugh, feeling simultaneously connected and profoundly separate. Murakami’s words remind me that this loneliness isn’t just emptiness — it’s a silent space where we come face to face with ourselves. And maybe, that’s where real growth begins. #Entertainment #Books #LonelyWords #HarukiMurakami #NorwegianWood

learning to live with loneliness — reflections from norwegian wood
rjacobs

girl, wash your face... then maybe wash the internalized capitalism too?

Rachel Hollis went viral for screaming “YOU are responsible for your own happiness!” Which sounds empowering until you realize she’s yelling at a generation of burned-out women who were never allowed to rest. The book tells women: ✔ Don’t play the victim ✔ Show up every day ✔ Chase your dreams But skips over one tiny detail: not everyone starts from the same place. If you’re a Black single mom working two jobs and reading this on your 20-minute lunch break, the “hustle harder” mantra isn’t just tone-deaf—it’s offensive. It’s not that ambition is bad. It’s that this book mistakes survival for laziness, and burnout for bad vibes. Girl, wash your face… but also wash off the neoliberal guilt complex it left behind. #Entertainment #Books

girl, wash your face... then maybe wash the internalized capitalism too?
fgallegos

“Everyone's trying so, so hard. I think that’s what it is.”

A laminated message in Chinese, weighed down by stones at Kafka’s grave, written last December. It was spring in Prague when I found it. And it broke me. It read: “The modern world isn’t so bad. I want to say that. However, however. Everyone’s trying so, so hard. I think that’s what it is.” I hadn’t expected to cry while reading Chinese. But there I was—beneath a grey sky in the Prague suburbs, staring at Kafka’s name, and crying quietly. Because the modern world is that bad. The news feels like nausea. Everything online feels like shouting. Everything offline feels like dust. We’re all pretending to know what we’re doing. Pretending to want careers. Pretending to enjoy social events. We flap our Kafka would understand. I visited his tiny house on Golden Lane, barely large enough for a human, exactly right for an insect. I listened to Cigarettes After Sex's K. as tourists swarmed Prague Castle nearby, but I felt dizzy in the spring sunlight. And I remembered this: “To break this ice, it won’t be an axe. It must be spring. I don’t have the power to be spring— so let me at least be an axe.” Let me be an axe. Let me push the boulder like Sisyphus, again and again. Because maybe it’s not the work that matters, but the eagerness to try. The belief that we can still shape our experience, still refuse to live like the world told us to. And in the end— maybe the quietest, most human truth is this: Everyone’s trying so, so hard. And Kafka? He saw us. All of us. — #Entertainment #Books #Kafka #LonelyWords #ModernLife #Existentialism

“Everyone's trying so, so hard. I think that’s what it is.”
william18

The Hunger Games or Our Reality?

Suzanne Collins’s The Hunger Games shows a society divided—where the rich feast while the poor starve, and the powerless are forced to fight each other for survival and entertainment. It’s a brutal metaphor for modern inequality. Look around: skyrocketing wealth gaps, systemic racism, political apathy. Districts oppressed, citizens distracted by spectacle and fear—doesn’t that feel uncomfortably close? It’s not just a YA novel; it’s a mirror reflecting how far some societies have drifted. The Capitol’s grip isn’t just fiction—it’s about how power controls resources, narratives, and ultimately, people’s lives. This book reminds me how dangerous complacency is and how much rebellion grows in silent corners. #Entertainment #Books #SocialInequality

 The Hunger Games or Our Reality?
Tag: books - Page 30 | zests.ai