/lit/ - Literature

Marie Calloway

>>10429091

>>7236702
He heard the sound of a man approaching - his gun hand and face simultaneously snapping in the direction. A gunshot fired in his mind as soon as he caught sight of the man, a mexican
"WHO ARE YOU AND WHO SENT YOU!"
"Oy Amigo, I need a ride into town!"
The mexican was running toward him, getting close
"STO-"
The word caught in his throat. The mexan ran up to him, frozen with terror as the man grabbed his clothes and yanked him from his mount. He closed his eyes and felt warm piss on thigh as he landed on the floor - fist clenched and gun still in hand.
He heard the mexican mount his horse and begin to ride away. He pat around his belly as he realized his soul had not been taken from him and whistled for the horse; it bucked the Mexican off.
Marston had a grin on his face and murder on his tongue as he rose. He began to walk toward the Mexican, watching him.. watching -it scramble to collect itself. He spin the pistol in his hand as it searched for its own gun - it found what it was looking for and he stopped in mid track and shot the metal from its hand. 3 yards away. He sprinted to it, shooting his knee out and feeling its jaw break from the force. It slumped on its back and he stomped,-aiming just past its face; stirrup
realized his soul had not been taken from him and whistled for the horse; it bucked the Mexican off.
Marston had a grin on his face and murder on his tongue as he rose. He began to walk toward the Mexican, watching him.. watching -it scramble to collect itself. He spin the pistol in his hand as it searched for its own gun - it found what it was looking for and he stopped in mid track and shot the metal from its hand. 3 yards away. He sprinted to it, shooting his knee out and feeling its jaw break from the force. It slumped on its back and he stomped,-aiming just past its face; spur cutting into its neck. It held the wound and looked in terror without realizing the wound was not fatal. He stomped into its face, breaking the nose.
"OYYY!"
He hogtied the thing and put it on the back of his mount, riding off while holding his pistol to its head
"Ye fall off ahma shootchye"
He rode to the river and dumped the hogtied Mexican in it; ensuring himself safe passage this side of the border

t1d1.tumblr.com

>>7222095
I just had to dig up an old thread. whoever this chick is.

Who is bottom right

He's repeatedly ridiculing things I do; he'll point out something I do in with a smile and a very condescending tone and talk about how it relates to a greater problem I have. When I try to defend myself he'll talk over me, ridiculing me for defending myself, telling me I need to learn to let shit go; all in a relatively fast and harsh pace.
I'll realize that he's actually being a hypocrite; that he actually does the thing himself, and has typically told me so before in a similar condescending manor
I'll mention this, and just as I do he'll mock me for trying to speak against him. Once I manage to get the point across - that he's guilty of this veru thing - he'll dismiss it in the most casual way and launch into how I do it wrong, typically with ad hominem non-points like saying it's sick how I do it.
He will never admit to actually insulting me. If I suggest he's insulted me he'll mock me and tell me to quit taking things so seriously - he'll go into further insults about me being insecure, telling me I need to be more like such and such and of course speaking over me the whole time.
In the end this is my fault; I love to argue because I'm insecure, and I love to try and hold a grudge against him and I have no sense of humor; I should be more like such and such

This is my best friend. He is like a living, breathing tribute to me and he's compelled to go against me at every turn.
He's attractive. He can intentionally be the quitest in a room and he has an air of sadism that ends up giving him this sex appeal that is unlike anyone I've seen before and he's only just started coming out after disappearing in his room for 5 years.

For a while he was the biggest threat to my psychological well being. Quietly, almost too low for me to hear, I had an intense hatred for him.
After my hiatus as a shutin I had no idea how to be a person anymore. I had to learn alone - from me being used to buy alcohol, to being adored by close friends - and I've picked up this cheerful, accommodating desperation that had a habit of causing me to be left out.

When Devon came back into the picture, my friends took to him and they were soon hanging out without me and my lonliness gained and undertone of hatred.

>>7079631
The bad habits I picked up based on what worked with those few people - affecting an asperger-like social eagerness - has given me an inability to connect with new people and make new friends. Most of the improvements in the way people treat happened within this past year, and are largely thanks to how I saw Devon act (which itself is largely based on how I acted in highschool) and over the years instead of relearning how to be a person or even pursuing people that obviously seemed to want to be my friend, I took the path of least resistance.

Things worked differently for Devon. He started coming out 2 years ago; he quickly got over his anxiety and I noticed he acted genuinely cool. He'd sometimes get a streak of cruelty; he subtly put me down when we were alone and where the real me would slap him in his fucking face for thinking he could rise up against me, my bad habits made me meak - I accepted his station as above mine without a second thought.
In front of people he'd sometimes subtly insult them; he didn't talk as much as other people; he seemed like he didn't give a fuck about anyone or what they thought - and people gravitated heavily toward him. He can be cool in a way that I don't think I've ever been. His attitude can be extremely attractive and girls gravitate toward him as well.
Meanwhile, where I'd get told by random girls in highschool halls that I was attractive, and when I'd notice my presence being noticed in a room, I now feel the opposite. For a while I'd notice girls eyes change when they saw how I was, even without talking. More than once I've heard random girls in public make fun of me. I get told often that my face looks mad or like I'm about to cry; I've lost my glow

When I started doing meth a year ago it zi think distracted me from my awkwardness. I have a patience of about zero and I dislike most people - something I was too stultified to express around anyone other than family members. Be it the time (after initially going out of the house I reverted back to living mostly as a shutin and this was when I started going out again), the drug, my beinh fed up or whatever - I found my pride again
The next time Devon acted cruel to me, I left. The time after that, I hit him in the fucking head (I love the feeling of watching people go from showing confidence against me to being afraid). That day, at 22, my social blood thirst came back for the first time since I was 16 and it was the first time in almost as long that I felt truly confident

Who is your favourite contemporary female writer?
Mine?? Pic related

>tfw no etc.