/lit/ - Literature

please

>>2040042
>>2040042

I'm going to assume D&E did that intentionally,

>>2001900
>>2001900

Well, I could go ahead and say no.

But if yes, I'm definitely going to be dead before it gets any sort of worthy recognition. I don't really cut myself much slack, I'm not writing stuff people just pick up or anything.

Hell, I'll probably go nowhere with my writing, but I always thought people just loved taking a second look after someone dies.

All in all, just applaud me to make me feel less depressed about living in this closet.

>>1989056
>>1989056

>I am a Junior in High School and am instinctually drawn to literature.

I lost right there.

>>1985069
>>1985069

> Muumuu Publishing House

We fervently entered the club, keeping our hands tightly swung deep in the inner pockets of our coats; sure, it was our favorite chilly Boston night-type, one to keep nice and tight, nobody would question it. On obvious tradition, the less drunk of us two maneuvers the crowd - a sterile, virgin lookin' first mate with tightly wound shorts nicked just below the slightly torn adventure polo colors, paddling ripples in any jubilant crowd for his ale-stubborn Captain, coaxing behind. Always a few bumps with rare waves washing up just port-side, feisty enough to grope (and her slapping urges that crash up, making for one drenched, red-faced Captain.)

It was odd to think that with such a relationship, maneuvering a coiled rave bar, half-past a late teenage child's curfew, there would remain a goal. Of course, money could taste a man to thoughts of such a dangerous life; money and the pure danger in itself. There was an element to the surging, the blasting of sound pumping so jubilantly to your own heart, knowing that once your hands pull out the weapon, the only heart you're going to hear is your own; maybe your partner's when the money hit the floor. Time was up, with our eyes met, and the steel ran down until its crack across the pitched floor – neither armed, he spoke first. “You aren’t really going to shoot, are you? You ain’t got your gun, we ain’t got our guns, that is.

_________________________________

I will never do anything with this, but I keep it because I like to keep my spontaneous writing thoughts.

I am writing.

Writing infinite.

Every dream I have is a Vince Vaughn movie.

And not ones that exist - ones that I MAKE UP IN THE DREAM WITH HIM STARRING IN THEM.

> mfw I live in eternal damnation

>>1962707
>>1962707

My writing hand, which until now was gently keeping the pencil in place on the table, flung on the vehement rise of my head from the table. A fresh pool of spittle was instantly noticeable from where my mouth once lay, leading my dreamy thoughts astray as the horror from the dream slowly faded. While weary, I recalled my introduction into the thought as like a vivid memory, whereas supposedly my admiration of the visage bonded to the enduring insomnia revolving around my devotion to her. My hands initially ignore the position of neither the paper nor the pencil as they reach up and rub at my eyes to fully pull myself away from any false reality I may indulge in half-sleep, for I consider the previous dream as something of complete incongruity towards my appearance of her. A mentally marked failed attempt to modify an imagined situation to the ultimate taste; it drove my hands down from my eyes to slap the table, the anger that soothed within me becoming one vile concoction brewed in depression. Heavy header, I found back a direction down to the table, resting it at just such angle to view her drawn hands on the paper which was now pushed awkwardly up against the broken table lamp diagonal its starting place.

>>1956357
Oh

>"A writer who happens to be gay or lesbian must be able to transcend self. I am not a gay writer. I am a writer who happens to be gay."
>LGBT community calls Edward Albee a "coward" for this comment
Really?

>"Oprah's Book Club" is part of the cover