>he was a sensitive aesthete with an eye for beauty. a world-destroyer of the soul
It's funny how the story is clearly thematically about this, but how on the surface level it's also about being a gay pedophile. And Mann wouldn't have written it had he not been one
>What the frick was his problem?
Being a character in a dime a dozen modernist ripoff of Tristan und Isolde. The Triumph of Death, Death in Venice, to some extent Finnegans Wake, Patriotism, etc. All about the fusion of eros and thanatos, interior dreaming projected as a mounting passion in the external world, aesthetic creation metaphorically layered over human actions. Mann admitted to this btw. Wagner literally wrote Tristan und Isolde in Venice and later died there, the protagonist is a composer, his name is Aschenbach, could it be any more obvious?
>In this palace, the souls hear the last breath of Richard Wagner perpetuating itself like the tide which washes the marble beneath.
- D'Annunzio's epitaph for Wagner in Venice
When the blanketing desolation of winter befalls us, it is a natural instinct of all red-blooded men to desire the warming presence of a rosy, freckle-cheeked Adonisian puer. To feel his weight atop and against your body as you lay back on a chesterton, hypnotized by the crackling fireplace in some Victorian chestnut-paneled room. To press your face into the flowing golden locks on his head, itself nestled against your chest, saving your ever-coldening heart from turning to stone and forgetting the innocence of boyhood. To smell that layered fragrance of earthy sebum and electric sweat awakening you to the fact that: yes, you’re still here and yes, this is real.
Then your loins begin to swell, not inflame, but swell like the seas - churning and brimming, yielding a yearning to remove the clothing lightly draped over his slender frame. To squeeze and pull at Ganymede's tender haunches as you absolutely FRICK the life out of his little bussy.
When the blanketing desolation of winter befalls us, it is a natural instinct of all red-blooded men to desire the warming presence of a rosy, freckle-cheeked Adonisian puer. To feel his weight atop and against your body as you lay back on a chesterton, hypnotized by the crackling fireplace in some Victorian chestnut-paneled room. To press your face into the flowing golden locks on his head, itself nestled against your chest, saving your ever-coldening heart from turning to stone and forgetting the innocence of boyhood. To smell that layered fragrance of earthy sebum and electric sweat awakening you to the fact that: yes, you’re still here and yes, this is real.
Then your loins begin to swell, not inflame, but swell like the seas - churning and brimming, yielding a yearning to remove the clothing lightly draped over his slender frame. To squeeze and pull at Ganymede's tender haunches as you absolutely FRICK the life out of his little bussy.
said. It's like a BPD prostitute after your dick, with none of the downsides and only half the daddy issues.
I stuck to boys my age, mostly. I'll say this, it's gross how easy it is and how real it can be. You remember how horny and thirsty for male attention you were? It's an open market in any trailer park or apartment complex, just start working on your motorcycle outside and show them your darkroom when you know they can keep secrets. Some good dick that wasn't quite as creepy as what's usually attached to it would have done me some good. That put me off of it, and the lack of opportunity. Instead, I'm a repressed schizoid blogposting about my adolescent sex life because only IQfy cares.
I will say, the things I've seen and heard about while seeing them make stories on nifty more than plausible.
1 month ago
Anonymous
>nifty
What?
Also please rewrite your post; I'm curious about the matter but have no fricking clue what you mean.
Are you the man trawling for adolescents or vice versa? Are you wishing that you were fricked by nicer men as a boy, or saying that this way is better for horny boys generally than how they usually get to have sex with men?
1 month ago
Anonymous
>Instead, I'm a repressed schizoid blogposting about my adolescent sex life because only IQfy cares.
Sorry about that, anon. May you find the Hyacinthus of your dreams.
1 month ago
Anonymous
anon, i have experienced much of the same. you are my brother in this regard. i hope you find the Antinous of your dreams
Pornographic content and coomers IS NOT however. So talk about it with some self-respect and seriousness if you're that way inclined but don't vomit up your degeneracy all over the board.
*his
I like men now
this but only pubescent boys
Moderately based.
Based.
>
>
he was a sensitive aesthete with an eye for beauty. a world-destroyer of the soul
you wouldn't get it
Just say you're a gay pedophile
>he was a sensitive aesthete with an eye for beauty. a world-destroyer of the soul
It's funny how the story is clearly thematically about this, but how on the surface level it's also about being a gay pedophile. And Mann wouldn't have written it had he not been one
You would have done the same.
>What the frick was his problem?
Being a character in a dime a dozen modernist ripoff of Tristan und Isolde. The Triumph of Death, Death in Venice, to some extent Finnegans Wake, Patriotism, etc. All about the fusion of eros and thanatos, interior dreaming projected as a mounting passion in the external world, aesthetic creation metaphorically layered over human actions. Mann admitted to this btw. Wagner literally wrote Tristan und Isolde in Venice and later died there, the protagonist is a composer, his name is Aschenbach, could it be any more obvious?
>In this palace, the souls hear the last breath of Richard Wagner perpetuating itself like the tide which washes the marble beneath.
- D'Annunzio's epitaph for Wagner in Venice
>the protagonist is a composer
He's not.
Then Visconti emphasised the connection.
The major problem is I'm not throat fricking that twink rn
He's 15 you sick frick
outta 10!
Anons, be honest. Would you?
When the blanketing desolation of winter befalls us, it is a natural instinct of all red-blooded men to desire the warming presence of a rosy, freckle-cheeked Adonisian puer. To feel his weight atop and against your body as you lay back on a chesterton, hypnotized by the crackling fireplace in some Victorian chestnut-paneled room. To press your face into the flowing golden locks on his head, itself nestled against your chest, saving your ever-coldening heart from turning to stone and forgetting the innocence of boyhood. To smell that layered fragrance of earthy sebum and electric sweat awakening you to the fact that: yes, you’re still here and yes, this is real.
Then your loins begin to swell, not inflame, but swell like the seas - churning and brimming, yielding a yearning to remove the clothing lightly draped over his slender frame. To squeeze and pull at Ganymede's tender haunches as you absolutely FRICK the life out of his little bussy.
- excerpt of the recipe "a supple catamite" from the IQfy book of wienertails for drinking with friends
available at your local homeless shelter soon
What
said. It's like a BPD prostitute after your dick, with none of the downsides and only half the daddy issues.
Speaking from experience? Storytime, perhaps?
I stuck to boys my age, mostly. I'll say this, it's gross how easy it is and how real it can be. You remember how horny and thirsty for male attention you were? It's an open market in any trailer park or apartment complex, just start working on your motorcycle outside and show them your darkroom when you know they can keep secrets. Some good dick that wasn't quite as creepy as what's usually attached to it would have done me some good. That put me off of it, and the lack of opportunity. Instead, I'm a repressed schizoid blogposting about my adolescent sex life because only IQfy cares.
I will say, the things I've seen and heard about while seeing them make stories on nifty more than plausible.
>nifty
What?
Also please rewrite your post; I'm curious about the matter but have no fricking clue what you mean.
Are you the man trawling for adolescents or vice versa? Are you wishing that you were fricked by nicer men as a boy, or saying that this way is better for horny boys generally than how they usually get to have sex with men?
>Instead, I'm a repressed schizoid blogposting about my adolescent sex life because only IQfy cares.
Sorry about that, anon. May you find the Hyacinthus of your dreams.
anon, i have experienced much of the same. you are my brother in this regard. i hope you find the Antinous of your dreams
Can the homosexual pedarests please frick off to IQfy or something? We don't want to hear your pornographic imagination when talking about literature.
Pedarasty is IQfycore whether you want it or not
Pornographic content and coomers IS NOT however. So talk about it with some self-respect and seriousness if you're that way inclined but don't vomit up your degeneracy all over the board.