The Extremely Long Paragraph (ELP), as seen in the works of Thomas Bernhard and echoed in contemporary literature, serves not merely as a stylistic quirk but as a deliberate challenge to the fragmented, distracted reading habits fostered by digital technology. These sprawling, uninterrupted blocks of text—devoid of conventional paragraph breaks—demand sustained attention, pulling readers into a rhythmic, almost hypnotic flow of thought that resists the skimming and multitasking encouraged by smartphones and social media. Far from being a mere obstacle, the ELP functions as a literary countermeasure, inviting readers to slow down, immerse themselves in dense psychological or philosophical terrain, and reclaim the deep focus that many fear has been eroded by the internet age. Writers influenced by Bernhard, such as Ben Lerner, Lucy Ellmann, and Jenny Offill, deploy this technique to mirror the relentless churn of internal monologue, where ideas spiral, contradict, and evolve without the neat compartmentalization of traditional prose. In doing so, the ELP becomes more than a formal experiment—it becomes a statement about the value of concentration, the endurance of the novel, and the possibility of finding clarity within apparent chaos, suggesting that rather than succumbing to distraction, literature can evolve to confront it head-on and by the time you read all this, I already told angel all this.

ITZ_R0Y4L_BLU3

21d ago

@ESX_360

HOLLYLYLYl

ITZ_R0Y4L_BLU3

21d ago

@ESX_360

HEPLPJGH YOUNT TOLD HIMMMM!?!?!?!

ITZ_R0Y4L_BLU3

21d ago

@ESX_360

U TOLD AZERU ALL THAT