/lit/ - Literature

>>10563420
>>/lit/?task=search2&search_username=sange

>>10563500
And I'm still 10x more cultured than a fuckwit like you who thinks that means shit.
Now post your shit or get out, faggot.

>>10563500
>I'm still 10x more cultured than at least 90% of the bitches on this board
10x0=0

>>10563540
stupid fuck
10 x (the culture of at least 90% of the bitches on this board)
That equals... okay, guess you got a point you uncultured faggot but it wasn't 0 you stupid fuck.
THIS is exactly what I'm talking about with you bitches thinking your all smart and shit.
Now quit wasting my time bitch, this thread is for critiquing writing.

>>10563547
you're*
I guess I'm smarter than you.

>>10563552
Mother fucker, how did I know you would point that out? You ain't shit, and it was a typo that I didn't feel like deleting my post to correct but you thinking that means shit just proves my point more faggot.

Now you going to post something so I can really rip into your dumb ass or what?

>>10563561
You're so mad and insecure.

>>10563420

Susie didn’t know the answer even though it seemed clear to her that indeed it all (not just companies, all) had formed itself into a they, though simple in its wants and desires. The superimposition of machines and code, dedicated to the optimization of ‘x’, had now created a self-sustaining ecosystem built out of television static and short-hand communication. What made them so scary, so alien and frightful to our very inner-being were their single-minded pursuits of exposure and the increase of profit-margin. Susie had now begun to thought that Judy’s death was a choice that no-one (yes! no one) had really made but rather a consequence of algorithm put into place by metal and silicon which had found the most-popular girl for the most-horrifying fall to enable the broadcast of the most-seen national television event possible. Everything from the contest to the suicide to Susie’s bare-ass fall onto concrete to the revolver held by the twitchy hand at her head – indeed it had been the best possible solution as found by heuristic-based search tree pruning, her each action so predictable that even the most basic molecular atom of her very being would follow along willing by its determined path. It made her feel stupid for even trying; it made her feel dumb for even trying to pull herself away from the path which had so obviously been paved just for her. We rehearse these tiny revolts, intoxicated on our fervor, without realizing that it only sustains the system which enabled for it in the first place. We’re just opening the pressure valves, letting out societal steam, never willing to admit that change will never come – and it’s all our fault.

>>10563562
Who's insecure? Bitch, I'm the best!

>>10563561
Lysidike took her ability to read his mind as a matter of course, but his converse power was still unsettling. Time was only Anaximander ever gleaned what she thought with any proficiency; but he deduced her nature from what his oily smarts told him was the nature of a person, and only sardonically hinted at his mastery. Tlexictli didn’t even have to puzzle to catch her straight away, so the privacy she took for a metaphysical given in her youth broke up, and she felt her disagreements with her husband as dumb sensory pressures, like heat or cold. Their cross-purposes weren’t any easier for their transparency, but there was nothing to worry over – they’d conducted business together before becoming sentimental.

>>10563572
I get what its trying to say, and I like that its trying to say it, but it gets so stuck up its own ass the message is drowned out by confusing heavy-handed prose.
Tone it down, and have you ever even heard of this thing called a fucking paragraph?

Though it's not entirely bad, it does need to be more concise because nobody would want to read this shit the way it's written now.

>>10563420
>>10563448
>>10563538
>>10563547
>>10563561
>>10563575
To be fair, you have to have a very high IQ to understand a sange post. The humour is extremely subtle, and without a solid grasp of theoretical irony most of the jokes will go over a typical reader’s head. There’s also sange’s nihilistic outlook, which is deftly woven into his characterisation- his personal philosophy draws heavily from Narodnaya Volya literature, for instance. His fans understand this stuff; they have the intellectual capacity to truly appreciate the depths of these jokes, to realise that they’re not just funny- they say something deep about LIFE. As a consequence people who dislike sange truly ARE idiots- of course they wouldn’t appreciate, for instance, the humour in sange’s existential catchphrase “I'm still 10x more cultured than at least 90% of the bitches on this board” which itself is a cryptic reference to Turgenev’s Russian epic Fathers and Sons. I’m smirking right now just imagining one of those addlepated simpletons scratching their heads in confusion as sange’s genius wit unfolds itself on their computer screens. What fools.. how I pity them.

And yes, by the way, i DO have a Moby Dick is shit tattoo. And no, you cannot see it. It’s for the ladies’ eyes only- and even then they have to demonstrate that they’re within 5 IQ points of my own (preferably lower) beforehand. Nothin personnel kid

>>10563576
I could say what you just said in about 1/4th the words. And why the fuck is some Greek philosopher's name randomly thrown in there? I had to google that shit and the sentence still doesn't make any sense. What the fuck is this? This is shit.

>>10563561
Why are you so angry and stupid?

>>10563591
>And yes, by the way, i DO have a Moby Dick is shit tattoo
No one asked, bitch.

10/10 post btw, although you are giving me way too much credit

>>10563595
well you're gay

>>10563589
i dont like paragraphs they waste space

“After I heard that other girls were killing themselves because of Judy, because of something that I created… well I couldn’t live with myself anymore, Sylvania.” The men nodded in agreement as Susie & June took in deep breaths. “I stood by the waterfront; I looked at the ocean… I took as many pills as I could and I lunged into the water.” Susie looked up from her bent-over position, trying to set aside her contempt… “But when I jumped in, I didn’t land in the water, Sylvania. I landed on a pile of shit.” The men laughed with chortles, the Duchess herself even managing to crack a smile as they slapped their backs & knees. “I was so disgusted, the shit went into every part of my body, and it was in my eyes and my nose, my mouth… it tasted so awful that I just threw up all the pills I’d swallowed down.” Susie looked at June, who now was starting to cry with discomfort and had hid her breath-mask-clad face into her arms. “But when I was surrounded with shit and throw-up I realized something, Sylvania. I felt so… alive. I couldn’t explain it away; I couldn’t think about it or take control or push my anger onto others like I’d always tried to do. It was real, without any possibility for fantasy or anything like that. For the first time in my life, I realized what being physically alive meant. All the troubles of the past, the jealousy & anger, it seemed to just melt away and I finally felt alive. Those generations of hardship finally made sense. I realized as the shit and throw-up penetrated every orifice of my body that I was born so I could live.”

>>10563616
>i dont like paragraphs they waste space
Well it's not about what you like.

>But when I was surrounded with shit and throw-up I realized something, Sylvania. I felt so… alive.
Way to throw away an actually kind of decent premise. It had potential, but you blew it. Nice going, bitch.

>>10563626
what would you have written?

>>10563616
>I realized as the shit and throw-up penetrated every orifice of my body
God I fucking hate you.

>>10563632
How has it taken you six minutes to read a single paragraph?

>>10563632
im glad it provoked such a strong reaction

>>10563629
Can you paste bin the whole thing? I'll be better able to get my head around it.

>>10563639
how did it take you 2 minutes to think that stupid ass thought was actually worth posting?

Drops of sorrow cascade from my
eyes, and fall like slugs being shot in
the sky for one last time. Tears more
alive than the colourless world of
which I live in, a world of haste and
spite. Everywhere around me, I see
senseless lives, living in a norm of
colour blind. Do these people not
realise, that art is not dead, that
science will die?

>>10563653
Word, fuck science. What the world definitely needs is more edgy faggots who call fucking tears "drops of sorrow"

>>10563646
https://pastebin.com/raw/gfwQk21y

part of a large book that i have to edit down. feel free to add paragraph breaks for your own convenience.

An optimist will look at a glass of milk
and say it's half full.
A pessimist will look at a glass of milk
and say it's half empty.

I look at a glass of milk
and say it's sour.

>>10563666
>https://pastebin.com/raw/gfwQk21y
Holy fuck, how can you even write like this?
I'll work through it, don't expect anything right away though.

>>10563667
Simple, and it makes its point.
I'll give you this one.

>>10563675
thats how they exist in my head.

hence the need to edit down

"Insane"

They dragged me away dying inside.
My memory is gone, no longer with me.
They speak calmly, truth they are trying to hide.
No matter how hard I try I can’t see.

My mind has become broken and shattered.
An empty space, darkness only remains.
My memory is gone fragments are scattered.
This darkness and silence drives me insane.

They tied me up and threw me in a room.
In that empty room with white padded walls.
The silence kills me spelling my doom.
As the door opens screams race through the halls

Its name is “Asylum,” but it’s no such thing
I’m doomed to die here, alone in C Wing.

>>10563682
The way its written captures the disconnected mental state of the patient. He/She is trapped inside their own head and is at least responsive to the abstract concept of self, but not much else.

Or something like that, I don't fucking know. Not bad though.

Hello good morning to you how do you do i do good that is good ah yes indeed yes i do good yes how do you do yes i do good this good yes I am good yes good indeed how do you do good yes ah good yes yes yes yes good oh, lol yes do you expect something else well yes there is somethging else oh good lol yes yes yes oh yes good yes oh oh oh good yes stream good yes treat good yes oh good good good yes yes yes yes good yes yes yes good yes yes yes good yes yes yes good yes

>>10563680
Yeah so I pasted it in google docs and messed with the formatting to make it a little easier to read.

My general impression
You got something going here. It's definitely a rough draft and there are parts that drag and are hard to understand, but there are other parts that prove you do in fact know how to do it right; concise sentences that give me a solid image or feeling.

One issue, there is a little problem of whos whos going on for me at some moments where I'm not entirely sure where they are and who is with them and who exactly they are, but if this is from a middle portion of a longer work that probably corrects itself when its taken as a whole.

I'm not sure about the 'n thing that you're doing, but perhaps that just takes a little while as a reader to adjust to, so I'm not saying not to do it but it was a little jarring.

My general advise. Keep going as you are and worry about making it more readable once the work is complete. You're lack of paragraphs (among other things) shows a lack of awareness towards how the reader is going to be receiving it, but if that is something that doesn't come naturally to you don't let it bog you down. Just worry about that later and let your ideas flow.

The highlight of this is its distinctly original and there is some underlying messages and feelings it trys to get across, which does so successfully without being too blatant... for the most part... the swimming in shit bit didn't quite have the same subtly as other moments, but that's not to say its wrong or bad.

If you're interested, you can share more stuff with me via email in the future. If you want...
sange1234567123@gmail.com

Heads up to all you other bitches - that's just for him. Don't the rest of you go bothering me unless I give you express permission to do so. Fuckers.

The pills
The pills inside
The pills I took
Taken

Taken by
Taken by talons
Taken by trees
Taken by the storm

The storm
The night of the storm
The night is dark
The night is full of terrors
The night is young
The night is dead

>>10563706
You think this is a mother fucking game?
Fuck out my thread bitch!

>>10563761
If that took you more than about 60 seconds, and if you are even a little bit serious with that shit, then do the world a favor and fucking kill yourself.

Every so often
one
is struck with the most profound
feeling of vertigo
as if one had
hitherto been
lollygagging on
the cusp of
a precipice
and has only
just now noticed
the depths upon which
one lives
and one is
suddenly overcome
by l'appel du vide

>>10563757
>the swimming in shit bit didn't quite have the same subtly as other moments, but that's not to say its wrong or bad.
To add to this, maybe I just didn't get it but I really wasn't all that crazy about that part. Yet, I wonder if the "I'm a bug" thing means it was meant to be taken more literally?
I'd probably still need a bigger sample size to fully understand what exactly this is suppose to be. The fact I'm stuck thinking about it like this is probably a win, though.

>>10563757 (You)
>the swimming in shit bit didn't quite have the same subtly as other moments, but that's not to say its wrong or bad.
To add to this, maybe I just didn't get it but I really wasn't all that crazy about that part. Yet, I wonder if the "I'm a bug" thing means it was meant to be taken more literally?
I'd probably still need a bigger sample size to fully understand what exactly this is suppose to be. The fact I'm stuck thinking about it like this is probably a win, though. Typically I just read whats posted, tell the writers to go fuck themselves and call it a day.

ups,

and dulls,

unstable illusions
of
the Truth?

distracted.
from
realism,

carelessness,

fear,
at extremes:
mania,

tears
inside.

>>10563766
What gave me vertigo is this shit format.

>>10563776
Alright, I'm done with you. Quit littering my thread with this shit.

Rain seeps into my eyes,
It is indescribable,
A wave in motion,
Split into thousands,
falling from the sky.
It is cold, oh so cold.
But my skin is strong,
and I ignore it,
and carry on,
into the night,
onto Bourbon Street.

>>10563780
I hope that polluted rainwater gives you pinkeye and you fucking go blind.

Sometimes I want to go to an airsoft arena with real guns
And paint the tips orange
So people don't notice that my guns are real
And that my guns shoot real bullets
Not fake shitty plastic pellets
Anyway
I'd go there with my real guns
And never fire them
And get shot with shitty plastic pellets
And lose the battle
And go home

__

I want a necklace of your teeth
But I don’t want you to die
Maybe if they grew back
But they don’t so I’ll wait

I like looking at your teeth
Even if they are a little yellow
At least your face isn’t yellow
And I don’t mean “asian”
That would be racist

If I die you can have my teeth
You can make jewelry with them
Or grind them into powder
And brush your teeth with it

__

I want to ride a tornado to school
And then destroy school with it
Someone will call in a bomb threat
But it’ll be too late
Because school will be gone already
And then no one will learn ever again
Maybe I’ll destroy everyone’s cars too
They should be riding tornados instead

>>10563799
>They should be riding tornados instead
I smirked.

>>10563594

>>10563420

Quite a few
Orbs falling
Through my eyes

Wondering
If my eyes
Are broken

If people might
Stare at me
Un nicely

Reflecting
The absence
Of Kindness

Could spheres mean
Great saintly
Affection

Maybe I
Am lost in
Angel orbs

God will clap
Beardily
Jump around

And give me
Snuffely
Great god hugs

To kill tears
Flushing from
Broken eyes

>>10563819
Guess a lot of people will eager to tell you how shit that was too, huh?

>>10563609

>>10563843
Rick and Morty is shit.

>>10563500
Embarrassing

>>10563420
-Sigil Atrocious
Chapter One: The Devil’s Dreams
“Toby take your sister and run.”
“But father where I will go?”
“Away from here” His mother’s voice was barely audible over the roaring fire that engulfed their village. “Listen” amidst the chaos and screams of agony the boy’s father took a knee. “Remember what we told you when we sat upon the tallest hill, gazing upon the rolling landscape at sunset?” The boy nodded his head. “One day I would have to be a man.” Toby recollected the past that now, in this suffering, seemed like a dream.
“Right” his father said ruffling his brown hair. “That time is now.”
“Take good care of Seiya, Toby.” He gripped the sling over his back that carried a crying infant. Toby’s mother kissed her children before rising from the ground “know that we will always love you.” Yet Toby didn’t move an inch. His father growing irritated was about to scream at his kin to go, to survive, but a cackle resonated above cries and the crackling of flames. “What a touching scene. A beautiful wife and her husband trying to preserve their seed.” The voice came from a silhouette walking through the flames. The figure emerged from a wall of crimson fire, a man of enormous statue. From behind gleaming silver bangs he stared with piercing red eyes. “Michael, Erin” he said addressing the boy’s mother and father. How long has it been since you defected from the Legion?”

>>10563856
For who, bitch? Not for me.
Now someone post something, I'm so bored I balanced a lighter on top of my cigarette.

>>10563863
Looks like something a slightly above average 7th grader would write.

From the distant city emanates the muffled roar of industry, the squelching of pneumatics and writhing of metal on metal; the delirious ambiance stifles with the vague hum of human mechanization. Interminable blocks sprawl out over the soggy crust, their foundations well sunken into the soft earth, and, like water through sandstone, narrow alleyways carve through the plateau of abandonment, forming deep trenches where light reaches only but from the sun's zenith. Rare and elusive beasts stalk the thicket that shoots up from veins of exposed soil in the fractured asphalt and winged things roost among crumbling concrete facades that, at one time, entombed people. Against the dark rooftops that tower obliquely over the grassy street below, the afternoon sun retires, his amber rays now prodding through disheveled shingles and shattered glass. The prehistoric sidewalk, which, long ago, rose up through hot layers of lithology from a great subterranean ocean, suddenly finds himself estranged from father sun

>>10563880
Very funny bitch. Get serious.
This aint a fucking game.

>>10563420

A bloated figure works its laborious way through the night streets of Düsseldorf, keeping away from the lights, seeking a refuge in dimness, pliable flesh and bottles of darkness – it’s Pierre Périte, from Liège originally, and he’s entering a basement containing a small, deeply degenerated Satansbrut of deadbeats, too disgusting for the taverns and beerhalls: drug addicts, prostitutes and boozehounds spread across the floor, twisted into swastikas, a woman offering her bottom to a man too drunk to count his own fingers, yet somehow still standing, pants around his ankles. The stink of liquor, piss and God knows what else is so pervasive, it’s coming out of the floorboards, mixing with various mind-fogging smokes and the smells of unhealthily-prepared foods into a demonic fart of an atmosphere that gets into the hair of Périte’s globoid belly, where it mixes with his bodily sweats and greases into a veritable sheen. This fat man has a fat wad of marks with him, and he’s ready to pay handsomely for some discreet entertainment, quality food and fine beverages. But don’t go thinking he’s some kind of mindless hedonist, here – his mighty appetites are matched by a mighty brain, and a noble heart besides. Under his arm, he has a copy of La Guerre du feu, which he has nearly read all the way through – he has read nearly every story published to date in French, and what little he could find in German, dealing with other times, alien life forms, spectacular technologies, fantastical human progress. Somehow, sometime, there would be an event which would cut the catapult’s rope, and the world would be sent hurtling toward utopia, a spontaneous scientific revolution that would, through means that our base, modern minds cannot even fathom, ensure profound and lasting satisfaction for the entire species, the biological secrets of human happiness unlocked. The thought of this epiphany takes up a great deal of his mental space, and sometimes he even carries the conceit that it would occur to him specifically. To him, Germany, with its deeply biological politics, seems the place this would happen. If at first biology was to be the queen of the sciences in society, it was only a matter of time before physics, chemistry and mathematics rose as well, each with an equal crown, forming a hydraic monarch in the mind of every citizen, who would all begin to see the world objectively, without the troublesome rumblings of the less sophisticated cranial meats which, alas and alack, he knows too well.

>>10563892
Nope.
This shit isn't ever readable.
I'm done for now, you bitches have literally numbed my brain with your shit writing. When I come back there better be something actually worth reading on here.

Buuut, I can't leave you with that so I'll tell you why its shit but you probably already know.

It's a fucking wall of text with very little action and all I got to was a fat drunk guy walking into a bar before my brain was numbed so bad I couldn't go any further. I hope you didn't think for a second that this had any entertainment value whatsoever. Because it fucking doesn't.

That is the sound of a man who is scared of life. The idea that life is too painstaking that he would rather avoid it. Never letting himself mature naturally and just deciding one day he should. You would have had to coach him.

Men are predictable, one must at least act surprised whenever they don't do something.

He could never hurt me, he tried. I was devestated. Not because of what he did, but because I knew from the start he would disappoint me. I did nothing with my knowledge. I knowingly let it happen. I knew all along.

It was late at night, all the wine I drank gave me a head full of clairity. The lamp was on. He looked at me and I saw him. I saw all his imperfections, his age, how worn he was in comparison to me. I was everything he wasn't, or... to be kind, wasn't anymore. It was similar to the kind of cruelty I felt when I saw someone ay. Though this was possibly worse. He was so goddamn unaware of his vulnerabilities that even when it manifested itself physically, he knew nothing, he was drunk and dumbfounded.

Red eyed and red faced, I am almost sure I am the only person who would care for a picture of a man so wretched.

>It's too big. It's an inhuman monstrosity. It's design seeks to alienate. I always feel like a cow in a giant warehouse.
>He shuffeled through the aisle and threw a box of Frosted Flakes into his cart. There were so many options; too many even. It would have been better if the choice was made for him, he didn't like this little responsibility, although pointless. A woman in her pajamas with a child in her cart walked by browsing the sugary selection. Brian turned away immediately and left. I need to stop coming this early.
>He stood waiting in the self-checkout line. The computer systems had to reboot at midnight, and they said it would take a couple minutes. Was there anything else he needed? Perusing the magazines at the check out he picked up The Enquirer, this was his favorite. They had good stories about fake news and Donald Trump, this issue contained a sexual expose of Shepherd Smith, he was fag and would supposedly shoot the shit with a young Italian assistant. Another woman came up behind him in line and he tried hiding the magazine. He was ashamed of his tabloid habit.
>He thought he recognized the woman behind him, but she didn't notice. She said she was 40, her face was rinkled and old. Drugs really brought out a patina. The systems were back online and everybody shuffeled to their stations one by one. He felt like cattle, even his death would be self-service. All they needed was a funeral parlor and they could satisfy everything, you'd never have to leave.
>He sat in his car, bent over like he was on a toilet; he didn't want to move. Motionless he remained in the fecal position, before starting the car and leaving the Walmart parking lot.

Intro to a short story:

We had spent the previous December in Arizona, chopping apart with machetes the barbary cactus that had grown to behemoth proportions in my Grandmother’s yard. Our blades sliced through the fleshy stems that extended over the driveway and they fell to the dirt with the rubbery bounce of true severed limbs. The cactus had engulfed the orange tree we used to pick fruit from as children, my cousins and I, and as we worked we gradually uncovered its remains. A twisted gray spindle at the center of the thorny mass, all the water long sucked out of it by the cactus, its bark fossilized into a kind of skeleton, its fruit dried hard and black. We picked up the fallen stems and tossed them into the dumpster we’d rented, which was about as big as the house we were emptying. My cousins and I wore gloves, while Uncle Drew worked shirtless and with his bare hands. He sweated in the dusk and bled from countless small puncture wounds. His skin was loosely draped over a hard rack of muscle and he said not one word to us as his brothers, our fathers, carried a sofa out of the house and tipped it over the rim of the dumpster. Drew’s shaved head wore a laurel of veins that pulsed under the skin and he leaned back to drain the warm dregs from his beer then threw it clattering into the street. The mountains in the distance were beautiful and pink and supposedly populated by Apache spirits; were supposedly where a lost Dutchman’s treasure was buried; were supposedly where a hole leading to hell could be found.

>>10564715
>; were supposedly
>; were supposedly
It just doesn't roll of the tongue, I don't like it. Although I don't mind the semicolon. Consider revising. You from Phoenix? It takes a long time for Cactus to grow, and I think I know about the Dutchman's treasure. Interesting idea, write more.

>>10565621
Yeah man, the superstition mountains, they are beautiful and have all kinds of interesting folklore. I don't live in Arizona presently but grew up around the Phoenix area and go back every chance I get because I love the country. The rest of the story is actually set in the lake of the Ozarks but I find myself writing about Arizona a lot for some reason.

>>10563923
I just feel like I'm reading a list of traits about this supposedly wretched man. Not much feeling is in it, it's boring and I'm given no reason to care. If this is from a longer piece try posting a little more next time so I have some actual fucking context.

>>10564381
No, bitch. Did you really think I was going to read this shit? Write like a normal fucking person.

>>10564715
Opening sentence is a little clunky. Read that out loud to yourself and figure out how to work on the flow.
aaaanddd, the rest of the passage has the same issue. At its best it's dry and just seems to be listing things: "this was over here, that was over there". At worst, it's clunky and the prose is jarring.
The positive however, is you managed to present what this story is going to be about with your opening, though even that part could use some work. I'm not giving this entire passage a full on "this is shit" stamp, just become more aware of voice and stuff like that and try to make this actually entertaining to read.

And what the FUCK is with you bitches on this website not believing in fucking paragraphs?

>>10567531
you're not worth hitting Enter for.

>>10567553
But you just fucking did dumbass.

The girl stared at the beginning of the labyrinth. It's massive, stone walls seemed to radiate their coldness straight into her soul. She began to march into the labyrinth, mindlessly, like a zombie. Her hand seemingly with a mind of its own ran over the wall of the maze, feeling every crack and ridge. She shivered as cold air came from nowhere and chilled her to the bones, this snapped her back to reality as she stared and loneliness crept through her mind like darkness. Collapsing to her knees, she wept at the knowing that she'd never leave this maze, at the knowledge of her being trapped here forever. Certainly she felt like a lab rat with cruel scientists watching over her, testing her, controlling her. Her free-will was nonexistent and her only reason for existing was to be a puppet for some higher power's amusement, until it got bored and tossed her away like an old toy. Emotions flowed through her like a river; anger, confusion, loneliness, betrayal and apathy. They tore through her mind like it was nothing but a meek sheet of paper, destroying her sanity and leaving her staring blankly at the stone wall opposite her as tears rolled down her cheeks. She was lost to the world, lost to her emotions and lost to her mind.

Begin, ephebe, by perceiving the idea
Of this invention, this invented world,
The inconceivable idea of the sun.

You must become an ignorant man again
And see the sun again with an ignorant eye
And see it clearly in the idea of it.

Never suppose an inventing mind as source
Of this idea nor for that mind compose
A voluminous master folded in his fire.

How clean the sun when seen in its idea
Washed in the remotest cleanliness of a heaven
That has expelled us and our images…

The death of one god is the death of all.
Let purple Phoebus lie in umber harvest,
Let Phoebus slumber and die in autumn umber,

Phoebus is dead, ephebe. But Phoebus was
A name for something that never could be named.
There was a project for the sun and is.

There is a project for the sun. The sun
Must bear no name, gold flourisher, but be
In the difficulty of what it is to be.

The pavement and the yellow paint that segmented it into two stretched on until the flames of the sun consumed it and it disappeared at the edge of the Earth, travelling to a new area where the sun sits high in the sky colored golden yellow. But here the sun was low and only a fraction still shone blood red onto the yellowed grass that stretched out of the ground on the side of the road. On the other side drooping and untrimmed trees peered over the outskirts of the road and mingled their branches with the other trees of the forest.

>>10567570
How the fuck is it that you bitches are so good at using so many words to say fucking nothing?

Alright, look, you are trying to be good at least so I'll give you credit for that but "this was like that" a simile does not make, bitch.
You don't have to find five different ways to get her emotions across, as the reader I'd much rather have her actually start walking through the labyrinth and describe new things rather than just stand on the outside with her for a really fucking long paragraph (again, with this shit) with nothing really happening other than the writer trying to act like he's hot shit by making all kinds of weird ass comparisons that don't even make fucking sense.

>>10567596
>have her actually start walking through the labyrinth and describe new things rather than just stand on the outside
To add to this. A good writer can get across her emotions without expressly stating "this is how she felt" like maybe she saw something and the way you describe that thing she saw conveys where her mind is at.

>>10567576
Bitch, who the fuck is Phoebus? This is shit.

>>10567583

Be more concise with your language. I shouldn't have to try to figure out what it is you are describing. It's not being poetic, or good, its just annoying. Nobody would tell you this is good unless they are just being nice.

People rush through like a flash flood in a desert
They hurry about like ants doing their queens every bidding
people buy junk food and batteries as if they are canned food before a hurricane
babies cries are like the screeches of a bobcat on a solitary mountain
There is an old man arguing with the woman behind the counter like she is keeping his grandchildren hostage
every once and a while a beeping sound as loud as the alarm before a thunder storm
I jump out of the way like a grasshopper
foreigners want to take their picture with me
an american
like i am the mascot of a sports team
but thats ok
people file onto the airbus like it is the entrance to a high profile club in a big city
there is a feeling of relief once you are past the bouncer and walking the hall
as if your troubles are gone

>>10567635
Why the fuck did you make me think desert with the opening line when none of this shit is about a fucking desert? How about just "People rush through like a flood" but even then it is still shit, but you get my point.

And yeah, this is just a bunch of fucking disconnected images. I have no idea what the point is except that its chaotic. There is not one single line in this shit poem, if I can even call it that, which invokes any kind of emotional response or even a halfway decent image. There is fucking NOTHING here.

>>10563420

The inquisitor, having exhausted all options and abandoned all hope, stood before the monstrous gates of the final Wall that defined the Empire's form. To step through these gates, to pass from one side of the Wall to the other, to enter the desert would be to forfeit his status as a human.

Alone in the wasteland, he would be subject to all its terrible and desolate nature. The onl life or water would be the slow circulation of blood in his arteries and veins, and the desert thirsted for it. The barbarian tribes who permeated the desert could not be called living. They wre not like him, or anyone else from the Empire. Sand flowed through them, and they too thirsted for the wet plasma, existed only to quench themselves in it. To meet them would mean his death or enslavement. He was not on a trade or diplomatic mission, and had neither guard nor envoy. The only protection he had was a rusted pistol and a string of prayer beads tucked in his trousers. Perhaps if he was swift enough, and if his gun didn't jam, he could fire a bullet through the roof of his mouth before they caught him.

He had traveled unaccompanied to the edge of the Empire, but he had remained a citizen, andany harm done to him would inevitably be subject to the Empire's machine. If he stepped off its precipice, he would truly be alone. He would become an nimal--no, less than an animal, who at least had other animals. he would have no-one to bury him if he perished to the desert sand; no one to defend him if he fell prey to slaves; he would have no-one, no-one at all. A magistrate without a state is nothing at all.

>>10567668
MY god... something that is actually halfway decent. It's a fucking miracle.

For you bitches who are upset about getting a bad review let me explain why this is better than the bullshit you spit out.

The sentences are easy to read and concise and say more than one thing. They give me some insight to the character, the setting, and plot all at one time. Meanwhile, all you other bitches use fucking five sentences to explain that someone feels lonely.

Good work bitch, keep it up. If you'd like me to review more of your shit you also have express permission to email me a larger portion. Or post a pastebin here.

The rain collects on the plastic lining
which divides the world and I.
I see you walk past the place hwere I one day did die.

Yesterday: when the clouds existed still,
Only, as stars and steam in the end of the world, glimmering,
Invisible in the looking-glass sky. You swaggered, drunk,
Lust emanating noisily from
Your broken-bone eye.

Where the land passes, I cannot.
Where your step crosses, I cannot.
Where time passes, I could not.

I stand and watch, and you go by.
I wait and wait, I should not die.

On predetermined principle, I proclaim,
I have staged this affair, indebted in death only
to the persistence of life, which I have found
in your feckless stare.

Bury me in grey beneath a sky unblue!
Why, if this night is not,
Then why should your day be true?
How could I be under a sky marked in blue?
If you did not see me,
THen why should I remember you?

The tears rolls along the plastic face
which is for me, prepared--I wear it over my own
Deep, separate and alone, I lie prepared,
I was not there.
At whom should you have stared?

>>10567634
>Bitch, who the fuck is Phoebus? This is shit.
I'd tell poor Wallace but he's dead.

Alright, listen bitches. No more shit poetry. If you're going to post some poetry it better be fucking amazing. I'm not reviewing this shit anymore.

Alexander awoke to darkness and noise, under a sky in turmoil as lightning and rain greeted him in substance. He had no idea how he came to be outside in the rain, and as he lethargically sat himself upright, strange sights surrounded him. He was in an alley, and a rather dirty one at that, between two wooden buildings. Light poured forth the far entrance of the alley, illuminating almost nothing. Mind cloudy and body aching, Alex moved towards the light.
He was soaked in every aspect of the word. His head was propped up against a wooden box earlier, fortunately, so his hair was only wet, but down his side and back was a coat of black, horrid smelling mud. Each step he took made an indescribable sound that he could only say was the noise of the earth trying to devoir him feet first. Pushing forward, he finally reached the end of the alley, after a few bumps and bruises from the larger piles of litter that seem to have occupied it before he was ever born. Someone chuckled at his approach and Alex put a hand to the wall as he waited for his eyes to adjust to the brightness from the light source.
A man in an outdated suit stood by an old argand street light, he raised a questioning eyebrow and a smile as Alex stumbled up to steady himself on the lamp post. How long was he back there in the mud? The formally dressed stranger held nothing in his hands exept a watch and a small box, of which he pulled out a cigarette, the former he tucked back into his pocket. It seemed odd to find someone so well-dressed standing in a downpour like this. A sign depicting a sinking ship with the words "Voyager's Rest" carved into it was behind him, hung on a well-lit Inn. Eerily, the rest of the houses nearby were dark, with the only light provided by street lamps, similar to the one that led Alex out of the alley, that dotted the lane at regular intervals every dozen feet or so. The street itself was fashioned out of cobblestone and brick, and extended in a straight line for farther than Alex could see through the rain.
"New around here?" he asked in a puff of smoke.
Alex stopped and stood on the opposite side of the lamppost. A sharp contrast to his well-dressed aquaintance, with his clothes covered in mud from the alley. "I'm not really sure of that myself, where am I?".
"Why, you're in Respite, the greatest city in the world!" replied the stranger, as though he made some sort of joke. The man offered Alex an umbrella. "Welcome, newcomer. Can you remember how you got here or when?"
"No" mumbled Alex as the torrent grew more violent and water began to replace air.

He was at the entrance to a shed somewhere. It was in the middle of the forest where tall, slender, knobbly-trunked trees guarded the tumbledown shack. In the corner of the dilapidated shelter was situated a blocky throne and sitting in it was a man dressed in thick white robes.
Logan looked down. He was stripped bare except for his pants, which were slashed and tattered enough to be more like an extravagant loincloth if anything. The soil underneath his feet was slightly moist and oozed between the gaps of his toes. A tide of panic rose in his chest as he perceived long, half-dried lacerations across his abdomen and chest. Dirt was smeared across all of his exposed skin and he just now he noticed his mouth was unbearably dry.
A thick loud dripping noise like giant drops of viscous fluid falling into a sink pervaded the shack. Logan’s head snapped up. The robed man inside started wailing. Loud inhuman noises—halfway between a death rattle and choking—poured from him and Logan noticed something else pouring out with it. The man’s face was covered with a thick rubber mask which was the same color as his robes with a large band of cloth wrapped around its lower half so only the black semi-rectangular holes for eyes were visible. A long and damp streak of red ran down the middle of the cloth, running in a crimson stream that coagulated into a fist-sized splotch in his lap.
Logan’s breathing accelerated. His limbs felt light and the wounds didn’t bother him. The brightness of the shack was acute and blinding—it seemed everything in there was a slight shining color. His body could run a marathon, it seemed, but his mind kept his flesh petrified just near the entrance to the shack.
Logan’s breathing hitched when he saw the man brandishing a straight razor. He slung it half-open, but he wasn’t aiming for Logan. His arms were jerking left and right and spasming uncontrollably, his grip loosened and then reaffirmed himself, the blade slashed around in the air. A burning nausea climbed to the back of Logan’s throat, and he grasped the sides of the fragile entrance, which cracked and caved underneath his grip.
The man made the decision and plunged the razor into his own stomach. Logan’s body hollowed out and his face turned ghost-white. The robed man slid the knife out of his stomach and stabbed over and over and over into himself, his wailing growing louder—thick pieces of skin unraveling around his stomach—a gagging and sucking noise—a splatter of liquid—a release of tension—a boiling heat released in a white-hot wave—coming in a chariot of fire—

The vision shattered. Logan shot awake while his fingers were clutching with white knuckles his bedsheets. Sweat drenched his neck and forehead, his muscles trembled weakly, his jaw was stiff and his tongue felt lead-hot. Beams of dark-gold projected into his room and onto his blanketed form The sun had risen. His eyes were glistening.

>>10567718
>Darkness and noise
no
>a sky in turmoil
no
>lightning and rain
no because you already used "darkness and noise" which was shit
>lethargically
normally this would be passable if you didn't already prove your one of those "if I add extra words it will sound good" faggots
>Mind cloudy and body aching
you use the "this and that" shit too much

Alright, do I need to go further? You get the point. You're trying to have good prose but it isn't working because you don't know what the fuck good prose is. You'll get there, though. Just keep trying.

>>10567761
>somewhere
no
>thick loud dripping noise like giant drops
read this out loud to yourself. It sounds horrendous.
>thick pieces of skin unraveling around his stomach—a gagging and sucking noise—a splatter of liquid—a release of tension—a boiling heat released in a white-hot wave—coming in a chariot of fire—
I was almost going to let you get away with this until I read "coming in a chariot of fire"
Shit.
>Logan shot awake while his fingers were clutching with white knuckles his bedsheets.
Language is inconsistent with the rest of the passage

Not the worst I have ever read on one of these stupid threads, but certainly not the best either. Can't think of much advise other than to just keep writing and allow yourself to improve naturally with experience.

Alright, any of you bitches out there want to admit how fresh I am at this critiquing shit yet?

I skimmed some of the other threads, and there aint advise half as good as mine coming from any of these other douchebag anons.

>>10568075
>Alright, any of you bitches out there want to admit how fresh I am at this critiquing shit yet?

https://pastebin.com/4kDQe3pj
https://pastebin.com/GW4Kjt67
https://pastebin.com/z5PxfcxL
https://pastebin.com/DYiSPbum
https://pastebin.com/Si74Ng0C

>>10568088
I swear to god if you faggots had been posting shit from there to waste my time... actually, I seriously hope that's whats going on with how fucking awful the writers in this thread have been.

Don't fuck with me, though. Only post your shit if you are seriously trying to improve and don't mind being called a bitch.

>>10568115
Actually, if you do mind being called a bitch then post your shit anyway. Then get all bitter and try to deny my skills after I tear up your pretentious bullshit.

>>10568115
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_bwHK1xkgJA

>>10568123
The fuck you posting this shit for? It's a nice song but stay on topic, bitch.

>>10568127
This is an act.

https://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/steelydan/reelinintheyears.html

>You wouldn't even know a diamond
>If you held it in your hand

No one is this stupid.

>>10568183
see
>>10568119
>Then get all bitter and try to deny my skills after I tear up your pretentious bullshit.

I'm spot on, you're just one of them douchebags who completely miss the insight my posts provide.

Prove me wrong, bitch. You can't.

So which of these shit stories I tore up did you write anyway? Try not to feel too bad about it. There are lots of shitty writers out there, faggot. So you're not alone.

>>10568183
For the record, I do in fact know what you were posting that for. The irony is that song applies more to your dumbass than it does to me. You think I type like this because I want you to fawn over how fucking smart I am? fuck no. I'm smart because of the quality of my ideas, so I don't need to wrap them up in some douchey presentation.

When I do rip someone apart who sucks, it also gives them a chance to just brush off what I said without it hurting their feelings, because I know some of you bitches are legit in thinking your fucked up writing is good. However, even if they brush me off without their feelings getting hurt the points I make should still get through to them.

So I'm helping without the hurt, bitch. You wouldn't get that though because you don't know how to look any deeper than 2 inches below the surface. Do you?

Plus I'm having a lot of fun. So quit hating, bitch.

>>10568250
Have you really been posting as this persona since 2012? Jesus.

>>10568301
Ah, thanks for the memories.

I've been gone for a long time, though. I just recently came back because I missed you bitches so much.

>>10568306
>>/lit/?task=search2&search_username=sange&offset=672

You have made almost 700 posts. I'm thinking that this is not an act, and that you really do behave like this in real life. I find this immensely disturbing.

>>10568346
Every good lie has a layer of truth tacked onto it, bitch.

Is there a way to see how many of those posts include the word "bitch" ??

Enough about me though.

Post some more writing, what the fuck. I'm here for a goddamn reason, you know?

>>10567531
Appreciate the critique. I'm the Arizona intro guy. You have any specific thoughts for revising the first sentence. Because I've noodled with that sentence endlessly going for readability and that construction has been what seemed best without chopping the whole thing up.

>>10568376
Is that reason to see how many times you can fail to spell "advice"?

>>10567531
>No bitch. Write lie a normal fucking person
Lol, how is that abnormal?

>>10563500
What a giant fag

>>10563420
>Hi, I'm a boring narcissist who needs validation by playing teach' on the web

>>10568399
I don't like being specific usually, because there is an issue of it getting rewritten the way I would write it when it should still be written the way YOU would write it (but better) if that makes sense. Just bare that in mind as you continue reading this.

One thing I /would/ do with the opening sentence is go ahead and chop it up a bit, even though you say you want to avoid that. Here are words I think you could stand to cut
>with machetes
You can slip in that machetes are being used in the next sentence alongside blades. "The blades of our machetes" or "Our Machete's blades" ... you get the idea

>Barabary
The reader doesn't need you to explain a cactus is barbary
>Behemoth proportions
Not as good as you probably think it is

Also the plural of cactus is cacti. Or is there indeed only one here?

Anyway, you don't have to cut all these things but shorting it up isn't a bad thing. You could also use more concise words rather than getting married to the longer terms you currently have.

Just for example (not saying use this exactly) but just as an example of how you /could/ be more concise.

We had spent the previous December in Arizona, chopping apart the overgrown cacti from my Grandmother's yard.

It's shorter and easier to read without /really/ losing anything from your original sentence.

Hope that helps, and you can apply the same theory to other parts of the passage.

>>10563575
D&E did it better now go to sleep tripfag

>>10568510
NIGGGER read this >>10564381
If you are hot shit.

>>10568418
>thinks advice is spelled the same way everywhere in the world.
No seriously, how come all my haters are always stupid fucks? For real, let one person with half a fucking brain bring the hate on me because I have yet to see it happen.
>>10568463
I'm not reading your greentext shit, bitch.
>>10568475
Your mom
>>10568479
Narcissist? Maybe.
Boring and needs validation? Fuck no.
Playing? I never play, bitch. This shits as real as it gets.

>>10568535
>actually defends his conflation of "advice" and "advise"
oml

>>10568510
Also, another positive of the whole passage I should have pointed out is you did build the setting pretty well in a short amount of time. The issue is on the sentence level, you just need to make your language flow a little better and you'll be doing fine.

>>10568544
Maybe I'm Australian, bitch. You ever think of that? Stupid fuck.

>>10568558
I don't think all Australians are retarded.

>>10568563
Alright bitch, I don't have time to argue this minute bullshit with some faggot whos clearly just fucking foaming at the mouth because he realizes how fucking inferior he is me. You fucking haters ain't worth the time, so you can shut the fuck up and get out - or, conversely, you can quiet down, sit the FUCK down, and see if you can learn a thing or two.

I'm fresh as shit at this, go ahead and prove me wrong rather than desperately looking for whatever tiny ass shit you can poke at so you can feel a false sense of your pathetic self worth rising.

You fucking piece of shit. I own you, and I own this shit. Deny it all you want, you should know that by now.

BITCH!

>>10568563
Alright bitch, I don't have time to argue this minute bullshit with some faggot whos clearly just fucking foaming at the mouth because he realizes how fucking inferior he is to me. You fucking haters ain't worth the time, so you can shut the fuck up and get out. Or, conversely, you can quiet down, sit the FUCK down, and see if you can learn a thing or two.
I'm fresh as shit at this, go ahead and prove me wrong rather than desperately looking for whatever tiny ass shit you can poke at so you can feel a false sense of your pathetic self worth rising.
You fucking piece of shit. I own you, and I own this shit. Deny it all you want, you should know that by now.
BITCH!

>>10568535
You dumb fucking idiot. It's not greentext, that's how I seperate paragraphs moron. You would know that if you coulr READ even if it was "greentext" how wouldnit deffer from any other bull shit? Dumb ass pseud.

>>10568596
Nope, that shits green bitch.

>>10568593
Didn't you say you were going to be a famous poet by now?

>>10568611
You dirty little plebe, its not even have sentences and I'm meticulous about my punctuation.

>>10568615
That was just a little phase I went through. I like writing fiction a lot more.

>>10568622
And how's that going for you?

>>10568617
>its not even have sentences
The fuck?

always a great feeling to filter tripfags

>>10568628
Pretty damn good, thanks for asking.

>>10568634
Like I want your bitch ass here in the first place.
Damn, what's with all these haters man? This shit isn't why I made this thread, get the fuck out.

>>10568510
Cutting "with machetes" and moving it to the next sentence is a great idea. Thank you. And yeah, it is supposed to be a single giant cactus.

>>10568558
>Maybe I'm Australian, bitch. You ever think of that? Stupid fuck.
not him, but
>self-appointed critic
>retarded grade-school grammar mistake
>blames it on being Aus
>calls others stupid
check the URL, this is an Aus webpage. It's for ESL, so maybe you should get to studying.

>>10568668
Would it really take all summer for multiple people to remove one cactus? Guess it really is a big mother fucker.

>>10568681
I never said I was Australian, I just asked if he ever considered the possibility that I am.
And it don't matter, that's such minor shit man. Don't act like I ain't giving good advice here. More importantly, why the fuck you bitches trying to downplay me? I'm doing a solid job at this critiquing shit and you can't deny that.

>>10568668
But yeah "We spent the summer in arizons... blablala" gives the impression the entire summer was spent doing that one job. And if that is indeed the case... well, I have a hard time imagining that but what I DID imagine was a yard filled with bigass cacti, with the narration then focusing in on just one that they were currently working at.

When I say that I was visiting old friends, friends from whom my life and my sense of life had diverged, I am not trying to set myself apart. Marta and Eli had lived in Los Angeles for a number of years—long enough, I suppose, that whatever logic connected immediate impulse to long-term goal to life plan to identity had slipped below conscious awareness and become simply a part of them. I was by no means innocent, either, of the slow supplanting drift by which the means to our most cherished and noble ends become the ends themselves—so that, for instance, writing something to change the world becomes writing something that matters to you becomes publishing something halfway decent becomes writing something publishable; or, to give another arbitrary example, finding everlasting love becomes finding somewhat lasting love becomes finding a reasonable mix of tolerance and lust becomes finding a sensible social teammate. And, of course, with each recalibration you think not that you are trading down or betraying your values but that you are becoming more mature. And maybe you are.
In any case I was writing a book, one that I hoped would make my contemporaries see how petty and misguided their lives were, how worthwhile my sacrifices, how refreshing my repudiations, how heroic my stubbornness, etc.
Eli and Marta, for their part, were trying to have a baby. They would spend the ensuing year attempting to get pregnant, and eventually they would, and later this baby, and their second baby, would grant them some reprieve from the confusion we were all afflicted by in those years. But before they had their baby, during the week when this story takes place, they had decided to do every last thing that a baby precludes, every last irresponsible thing, so as, I guess, to be able to say, Yes, I have lived, I have done the things that mean you have lived, brushed shoulders with the lurid genie Dionysus, who counsels recklessness and abandon, decadence, self-destruction, and waste. The Baby Bucket List, they were calling it.

>>10568712
I gotcha. It actually says "the previous December," though. And the idea wasn't that they spent the whole month chopping up this one cactus, but in preparing the house of thier mother who has died for resale. But that all becomes clear in the next section of the story, so I can see how that would be confusing from just this excerpt.

>>10568681
>retarded grade-school grammar mistake
hmm.
>>/lit/thread/6872985#p6874308

>>10568715
If this is meant to be ironic, then I get it, and I don't mean that sarcastically.
If you are seriously doing this unironically, though... uh... yeah, stop that shit.
Btw, this is the sentence that's giving me the benefit of the doubt on this one.
>In any case I was writing a book, one that I hoped would make my contemporaries see how petty and misguided their lives were, how worthwhile my sacrifices, how refreshing my repudiations, how heroic my stubbornness, etc.

So yeah, not sure how to approach this one but my general complaint /would/ have been that your sentences are way too fucking long... but it could be okay here if that was done consciously and for a purpose.

>>10568727
Oh shoot, I must be getting tired. Yeah that's my fault, ignore that complaint.

>>10568748
Bitch, that was...

Na, know what I'm not even going to explain it, but just trust me when I say you are stupid as fuck if you think that means something.

You can't deny my skill. Try attacking my character all you want, it's not going to work and it's not taking away from the fact my critiquing is solid as fuck.

Teeg walked around the outer edge of the skywalk, his hand sliding against the smooth metal railing. He was twenty three sectors up, in the commercial district. He had just finished getting his license renewed and was now preparing to head back to his headquarters on the other side of the city.

He missed the cowboy days, before the profession of bounty hunting had become so regulated. He was one of the last to conform to the new ways, but when the federation started throwing 'rogue' bounty hunters in jail, he figured it would be beneficial to just bite the bullet and accept that times were changing. Here on earth the federation had too much control. You could try and resist, but chances are it wouldn't work out for you in the long run. On Mars things were different, or so he had heard. The same regulations were in place, technically, but there was a serious lack of federal law enforcement, meaning the cowboys were free to just continue on as they always had.

He looked over the railing of the skywalk. If you stuck your head out far enough, and looked to the side, you could look across the seemingly endless crevice between buildings that just went on and on until it disappeared into a thin ray of light. Looking up, you could see just a touch of natural daylight, peaking in between the steel behemoths that lined the earth. For the most part you would just see railings and maybe a person or two poking their heads out, same as you were currently doing.

You could look down, but you probably wouldn't want to. Most people who lived fifteen sectors or higher liked to just pretend that there wasn't a down, and who could blame them? Looking down was like looking into the deep dark caverns of hell, and if you ever were to actually go down there you would swear that's exactly what it was. Or it was at least as close to hell as your were likely to find here in the realm of mortals.

Hadn't god once punished mankind for trying to build a structure that could challenge the heavens? It was called the tower of Babel, if Teeg remembered correctly. Well, god must have lost that battle, some ten thousand years after the rebirth of his son, because that's exactly what mankind had done. They did it again and again and again, until the heavens themselves were the stomping grounds of men, and their towers raised from the earth with one elongated middle finger piercing the sky and shouting 'fuck you'.

>>10568702
>gets called out
>"maybe there's a place where nouns are verbs, did you ever think of that! but seriously, otherwise I'm awesome at writing."

>>10568782
>You can't deny my skill.
You haven't demonstrated any skill. Your critique is mainly vague and not particularly constructive. Your own writing in this thread is often bad, you're just coming across as angry, narcissistic and stupid.

>>10568783
I laughed out fucking loud when I saw this. Good job.

alright, so check it out man.

It's clear and easy to read and does a fair job presenting the setting and the character, but a little more subtlety would do this piece well. Also at some points there is a "this happens then that happens then that happens" type flow going on that you should want to avoid.

Comparing a city to a hand flipping off god was fucking brilliant, by the way, and gives a lot of insight to the character's view of the world around him without expressly stating his feelings.

This is probably the best thing I have ever seen posted on /lit/ ever, so good job. You are a brilliant writer and clearly you are going places.

>>10568804
If by "angry, narcissistic and stupid" you mean "brilliant, fresh and brilliant" then I agree.

>>10568783
>>10568810
This is his own writing by the way.
>>/lit/thread/6842965#p6865994

>>10568810
>>10568825
Jesus dude

I wonder if these haters didn't catch the sarcasm with my "review" of my own thing that I clearly wasn't trying to pretend wasn't mine.
Na, know why these stupid fucks are that smart they probably all "WAAAAAH GOT HIM NOW HURHURHURHURHURHUR"

Dumbass bitches.

>>10568825
BTFO
T
F
O

I wonder if these haters didn't catch the sarcasm with my "review" of my own thing that I clearly wasn't trying to pretend wasn't mine.
Na, no way these stupid fucks are that smart they probably all "WAAAAAH GOT HIM NOW HURHURHURHURHURHUR"

Dumbass bitches.

>>10568873
>>10568883

You may in fact be the most pathetic person on this whole board of rejects

>>10568893
Nope, I'm just having fun, you bitches are the ones getting all bent out of shape. And why? Why does it matter to you what I'm doing here? I'm helping people and having a good time doing it but your panties are so fucked up and in a knot you just can't leave me alone. You're scavenging the archives for ways to attack my character. And why? Why bother?

Well, I don't know you so I can't say for sure, but if I were to take a guess it is this: You are a miserable fuck who sees me as an easy target to try and erect your limp ego. You may have a moment of feeling this was a success, but soon you will return to your flaccid existence and look for the next target to displace your misery on.

Second guess is I ripped apart your shit writing in this thread and you can't take it.

>>10568939
Baiting you into lengthy emotional responses with single sentence replies is quite fun.

>>10568783
>>10568810
>>10568825
He posted it several times.
>>/lit/?task=search2&ghost=&search_text=Teeg+walked+around

Most recently in a critique thread without his tripcode.
http://boards.4chan.org/lit/thread/10545612/#p10553884
>>/lit/thread/S10545612#p10553884

Notably, the first time he posted it, he misspelled "bite" as "bight" and "rogue" as "rouge".
>>/lit/thread/6865134

>>10568629
Hahahaha nigga you make a grammar mistake and then point out a simple word misuse (porposeful at that) to deny critiquing my worn. It's obvious you have nothing to criticize it's so good.

>>10568939
>You are a miserable fuck who sees me as an easy target to try and erect your limp ego. You may have a moment of feeling this was a success, but soon you will return to your flaccid existence and look for the next target to displace your misery on.
God this diss was so fucking rock solid. Is there a word that describes the word play I used here?
I was alluding to a dick with both sentences if you didn't catch that.

This is why I'm brilliant and you bitches ain't shit. Just try and touch that kind of cleverness, you can't because you bitches don't have a witty bone in your fucking bodies and that's why you'll never be successful as writers.

>>10568956
Yeah good job "baiting" me. I'm baiting you, bitch. I'm not even trying to.
Also the "I actually don't care" approach doesn't work. You can't touch me and it pisses you off.

>>10568957
Yeah it's fuckin' nice though, ain't it?

>>10568976
>It's obvious you have nothing to criticize it's so good.
Fine man, its so fucking good I got nothing to say. Good job. The world needs more writers like you.

Moving along now....

>>10568978
>Yeah it's fuckin' nice though, ain't it?
Not really. Seems like you wrote a satire of SF schlock and keep reposting it as bait because you haven't bothered to write anything else.

>>10568982
Lol

It's too big. It's an inhuman monstrosity. It's design seeks to alienate. I always feel like a cow in a giant warehouse.

He shuffeled through the aisle and threw a box of Frosted Flakes into his cart. There were so many options; too many even. It would have been better if the choice was made for him, he didn't like this little responsibility, although pointless. A woman in her pajamas with a child in her cart walked by browsing the sugary selection. Brian turned away immediately and left. I need to stop coming this early.

He stood waiting in the self-checkout line. The computer systems had to reboot at midnight, and they said it would take a couple minutes. Was there anything else he needed? Perusing the magazines at the check out he picked up The Enquirer, this was his favorite. They had good stories about fake news and Donald Trump, this issue contained a sexual expose of Shepherd Smith, he was fag and would supposedly shoot the shit with a young Italian assistant.

Another woman came up behind him in line and he tried hiding the magazine. He was ashamed of his tabloid habit.

He thought he recognized the woman behind him, but she didn't notice. She had told him she was 40, her face was rinkled and old. Drugs really brought out a patina. The systems were back online and everybody shuffeled to their stations one by one. He felt like cattle, even his death would be self-service. All they needed was a funeral parlor and they could satisfy everything, you'd never have to leave.

He sat in his car, bent over like he was on a toilet; he didn't want to move. Motionless he remained in the fecal position, before starting the car and leaving the Walmart parking lot.

>>10569018
Nope, still not reading it.
Piss off faggot.

>>10569021
Lol

>>10568992
I've written a lot (millions of words) but most stuff I can't share. Since I don't want to accidentally attach the persona I write under with this one.

>>10569018
Alright fucker, I'll read it.

Biggest issue I see is you start sentences with "he" way too often. Try to mix up your sentence structure a little. In spite of that, your sentences tend to convey more than one thing and you don't waste words, which is good.

It's legitimately not terrible and doesn't get my "this is shit" stamp. Congratulations.

Happy now, bitch?

sometimes I just need to get rid off emotion by writing. here's some terrible shit

The rhythm of those heavy turning gears. It just started one day and never stopped, continuing deeper into the horizon. This was the last I’d see of it, who’d think I’d long after cold metal. Oh that coldness, I would let it crystalize me entirely, freeze my breath the vapour, continue down my lungs into my blood and harden it. Freeze me up for hundreds of years with the comfort of ice and snow. Wake up on a glacier watching as it swallows the land and oh god. I’d watch the details in the ice as it’d turn and twist on itself over the years. Water seeping into its core, going through the tunnels. Nothing makes sense except this. I’ll follow the river until I find you again. Through the green trees and to the lake. Just looking how the blue blends in with the green. A blue circle on a green canvas, with long tendrils reaching outwards. A circle and not a square. Such a simple shape, roundness. Where did it come from. It just keeps on rotating powering itself. How can a function make me feel it on this level, maybe each of our inputs and outputs just are synchronized perfectly. What it gives out I take in and generate some more output for it to take in then it gives it back to me and we both feel each others peaks and curves and we both ride each others waves. Oh god. What good is this abstraction?

>>10569032
I guess you'll have to change your opening line.
>>10568298

>>10569089
Yeah, I noticed the He thing reposting it. Thanks faggot, it was fun.

>>10569106
No problem, bitch.

you're a damn good critic sange, for this board anyway. also this thread has been pretty comfy.

>>10569886
Yeah man, fuck the haters. They just don't get it.

>>10569097
Okay, this started okay but it lost be pretty quickly. I'll pinpoint exactly where.

>The rhythm of those heavy turning gears. It just started one day and never stopped, continuing deeper into the horizon.
Okay, not bad. It has me at least somewhat intrigued as it offers a bit of an odd visual.
>This was the last I’d see of it, who’d think I’d long after cold metal.
okay
>Oh that coldness, I would let it crystalize me entirely,
mmmm... fine...
>freeze my breath
still not pissing me off /yet/
>continue down my lungs into my blood and harden it.
Okay, I'm still interested but thank got that part is over and done with
> Freeze me up for hundreds of years
ffffffffffffffffffff...
>Wake up on a glacier
Oh, god damn it!

Then from there the passage fails to make any sense to me. I'm getting a bunch of images that kind of relate but I fail to have any idea what the fuck this is about.

>Oh god. What good is this abstraction?
Uh... yeah, that about sums up my thoughts after reading this shit.

Not sure what you were going for here, but unfortunately you are getting the "this is shit" stamp, bitch.

Thanks for playing, better luck next time.

>>10563420
A girl with yellow eyes fell from the sky. Or at least that is how it would seem to an outside party, who – from the derivation of the event – hadn’t been paying attention. To such a party, who, perhaps hadn’t noticed until hearing the screams of the young girl, and thus only began to witness the event when it was at the medium of its drama, it would seem as if she certainly had fallen right from heaven itself.

This secondary outside party looking in (as it were) is purely hypothetical, as there was no one to witness this tragic event - if not for the golden eyed girl herself. Let’s say this hypothetical second party had (indeed) caught the event at its origin. What would such a party have seen? Let’s say this party was about whatever business then causally looked to the sky, as if to peer through to the heavens above and all its glory. Such a person would see a flash of green and gold, a swirl in the air that lingered for only the briefest of moments. A trick of the eyes, no doubt, but then this trick would turn to reality, as the girl would appear and her screaming would begin; sound bringing a new layer of reality to this most unreal event.

The girl, with eyes like shooting stars, plummeted, in a manner void of any semblance of grace.

>>10570098
Oh my god, this is so fucking bad. What the fuck was I on?
Please don't tell anyone who wrote this bro... oh wait, FUCK!

Na man, there's no way that was serious. The mysterious writer who wrote that shit (whoever he may be) must have been trolling hard.

>>10570098
Okay yeah man, I was trolling. I remembered writing some shit about a yellow eyed girl but couldn't remember why I was doing it.
I was just fucking with the OP and rewriting his lame ass shit.
>>/lit/thread/S5047992#p5053440

Since that's what I was up to, let me just say I fucking nailed it. Damn, even past Sange was fucking killing it. Killing it since 2012 bitches!

Oh the destroyed little creatures bouncing within the sidewalk he walks on. Critters that be dead and goon and dead and gone and all. But bounce they do. He can feel them as he walks. He could fell them as well but that would require construction equipment and the will of Athena bounced from her unfathers head and lubed with foam rimmed with arrows. Alas he be not immortal or breastless of woman born he is. Of filth and rotten raspberries gestating around him a mobile cottage of humours tissues and neurosis the circuitry of nature all this is all this was all this will be. Alas he walk.

After the discovery of the new continent "drifter" became a loose term. The world as it was on the grand continent didn't have much room for adventure, and the drifting type found it hard to not just stick to one place. They were there though, that is, WE were there. I think we always were, not filling pages in the history books but instead existing somewhere between the lines. In the empire it wasn't so easy to just pick up and disappear, but the deserts of the new continent gave an alternative. Two days in the right direction you could be living an entirely new life, two days in the wrong direction and you'd be dead. Not a very clean ultimatum, but it was an alternative and it promised glamour to any fool who would listen.

These fools were not drifters though, not really. They had goals, and just going where the wind takes them was their cover for the reality that they were searching for something. True drifters are quiet different. Whether or not a drifter uses the word fate, that is what guides him. Others call it God, I call it fate. Have you ever been called upon to do something you think you otherwise wouldn't if it were not for that subtle intangible intervention? Probably not, or if you have you probably didn't realize it. In any case...

I have been drifting for a long time, much longer then you are likely to believe. In that time I have seen many things and of those things I have many stories to tell. You may be wanting to hear my story, but I promise you that would be a complete exercise in futility. You see, my story is really just a conglomeration of other peoples stories. I promise you, my life as a whole is not very interesting and it lacks the key building blocks of conflict and resolution that would make for a proper story.

But, there is a story I intend to tell. It is the one that has called to me the strongest throughout my years, and is the one story that I would like to take with me into the next life. This is the story of The Black Rider.

>>10570182
Needs to be cut down and reworked at some spots, but the core idea was probably brilliant. You're probably going to give up on that one and move to something else some time in the next 4 to 6 years, though. So fuck it!

Alright asshole, find that one where the kid is talking to death or some shit cuz I know that ones coming up sooner or later.

Fucker.

The empire was a powerful force, a smart force with the most brilliant minds in the world at its disposal and the resources to put them to use. On the grand continent they had reach as far as they could however. The mountains of the country they referred to as the savage lands acted as a natural fortress that was as good as impenetrable. The villages that sat at the foot of the mountains had long since been laid to ash by the empires attempts to extend its hand even further. Even after the empires retreat the people of the savage lands considered those ruined villages cursed and would not take back their lands. From above, it could be viewed as a clear line between two different worlds. On one side was the omnipowerful empire, and the other side the savage unknowns.

That is that what this story is about though. Because the empire found a new land to reach for. Across the ocean that was once thought to be endless there was a new land. At the shore of this new land there was desert, followed by thousands of miles of more desert, but at the end of the yellow sea of sand there was something else: Eden. Was it something they needed? Probably not, but growth is predisposition and it must continue to grow. The empire reached for Eden, a task that was not undemanding and it would take time, but it could be accomplished. It is in this period that our story takes place. Mainly, the tool they would use to bridge the gap between themselves and the promised land. The answer was simple: Railroads.

>>10570154
No... just fucking no.
Get serious, bitch.

>>10570220
I'm legitimately pissed off right now.
Good job, you piece of shit.

The sky an unchanging shade of blue, on all sides, in a perfect circle, it met the shore of an ocean. in the middle of the island was a train stuck on a rail going nowhere. If a train stops in the middle of a desert and no one is around too hear it scream, does it still make a sound?
Its black steel pulled in the sun like a vacuum and turned the inside into a furnace. The heat outside was bearable, but the sand was hot and flat so there was no way to rest your feet.
How long had they been there, and how long will they be there? The rules were simple, stay with the train and you stay alive. The tall man with glasses walked around the train, stroking his chin and agreeing with himself. None of his new companions were sure what he was mmm-hmming about, but they watch with hope. This man was clearly an intellectual and therefore would be able to make sense of their situation.
Or could he? Victor was a short bald man with thick arms, he watched the horizon. First he tried to dig a hole, but after three hot scoops of sand he gave up on that idea. Now whatever he was doing was likely just as useful as what the tall man was doing. Yet, the three remaining passengers paid him no mind and joined the tall man in pacing around the train.

There were three parts to this train, the engine car, the passenger car, and a trailer. The tall man nearly completed his first round about the structure when he stopped at the engine car. There was a door with a grab handle to the side, and the window was coated with fog. He looked it up and down ponderingly, doubled back to look at the coupling between the passenger car, the returned to his original spot. "We should see if we can start it." He said, an obvious solution followed by a murmur of agreement than a silence.
Who would do it? A simple task, but at first there were no offers. The tall man's trouble shooting ability was unquestionable, but what they needed now was a man of action. Someone to take the first step at testing the theory. John almost stepped forward, he was an average man of twenty three years, an average build, and an average level of resolve. Sometimes he dreamed of something more than he was but he lived a complacent life. Before his foot moved their fifth companion, Victor, revealed himself from around the front of the train and rejoined their group.

>>10570269

Without a word needing to be spoke, everyone knew he would be the one to try it. He stood below the towering structure, a short man who never felt small suddenly seemed an ant at the base of a giants foot. he had to reach over his head to grab the handle, but he didnt grab it at first. He touched it quickly, and let off, quickly, and let off. He took off his shirt and wrapped it around his hand, grabbed the handle with his now protected fist and pulled.
The latch had an inch of play, but the door would not budge. He pulled harder and harder, put a foot up on the step and jerked back with all his body weight. It did no good. He put his shirt back on, knowing his efforts were futile. "We need shelter." He said, as if completely abandoning the former plan of action. No one seemed to know what to do on that account, and like a passing profit he left them to ponder this ideal and work out the details themselves.
John decided not to accept the abandonment of their first plan. Not yet. Just as Victor had done, he took off his shirt and wrapped it around his hand, but he didn't go for the latch. He grabbed the handle for support and climbed the steps. He was a man, he had to be useful.
There were three long steps, and at the top one he still had to stand on his toed to peer in through the window. Inside the cab there was smoke lingering in still air. His eyes moved around taking note of everything he could, not being able to see much, but then his eyes worked out a figure that made his heart jump. It started at the steering wheel that had the silhouette of a bony set of hand clutching it in the death grip. Those hands ran down a matching pair of arms and connected to the shape of a man. His jaw hang low and the brim of his conductors hat slopped down past his face. He was as solid and unmoving as a statue. "There is someone in there!" John hollered down to his friends "An old man!"

>>10570220
>>10570182
And for the record, I knew this was shit when I wrote it. That was years ago and obviously I didn't start off as fresh as I am today.

So the rest of you bitches who get bad reviews don't feel too bad because even I was garbage when I was first starting out.

Anyway, these both get the "this is shit" stamp.

>>10570269
>>10570276
You mother fucker, you made your point. Leave me alone lol.
Damn it.

Abel winked as he clicked open his briefcase which turned out not to be a briefcase at all but a disguise for his laptop. Why he didn't just hide a normal laptop in an actual briefcase Chen wasn't sure, but he figured when you were as rich as this guy was it didn't really matter.
"So when are we going to make our move on method industries?" asked Chen
"Make our move? What are you talking about?" Abel's answer caused Chen to knock himself on the head. Did Abel suspect that the room was bugged? If so then he had just given away their motives for being here.
"Oh I mean, well nothing."
"Doesn't matter, we are already found out. I suspect the rooms bugged so now Method knows we are coming for them."
"Sorry boss, but how do you know?"
"I noticed we were being followed when we got off the plane. Do you think Transcontinental is owned by Method? That's my guess, because they had been tracking us ever since we landed. Transcontinental also booked this room for us and did you notice how particular they were that we get this exact room?" Chen nodded with understanding, although he hadn't put it together himself "I'm no Sherlock Holms but it really is elementary my dear Watson." To that Chen seemed confused so Abel apologized and explained that it was a very old story he was referencing.

>>10570305
His laptop booted up and he opened a program that pulled up a screen that reminded Chen of the radar screens he'd see all the time back when he was in the military.
"So this is scanning for bugs?" Chen asked. There were several red dots on the screen. Abel picked a vase up off the table and through it on the ground, it shattered into hundred of pieces, but laying amongst the rubble there was a small black device that Chen recognized as a Bug. Abel stomped on it and one of the red dots disappeared off his radar screen.
"Want to give me a hand with this?" Abel asked "Don't worry about breaking anything, I'm not worried about losing our deposit on the room."
They both set about the chore, which wasn't hard at all. At first Chen suspected that they would have hidden their bugs in the walls and under the floor boards but for the most part they were hidden in drawers and under pillows and mattresses. Within ten minutes the radar screen was clear and Abel closed the program. He opened up a music playing software and classical music started coming from the laptop. "Just in case" He said with a wink.
"So, what's the game plan?" Chen asked.
"Regarding what?"
"Well, Method. You haven't told me anything about what exactly you plan to do yet."
"Actually I'm not interested in method." Abel opened a folder that was sitting on the desk and pulled a print out of a news story. "I'm interested in this." it was the story about the crazy person who cut off his hand and went around town screaming something about a vortex.
"This? Why would you care about this?" He looked at Able "And why would you basically admit to the bugs that you were making a move on method if you weren't?"
"Just keeping up appearances." He said with a smirk.

I seriously did not remember just how much shit writing I posted under this trip. Holy fuck.
This is pretty amusing though. I'm not even mad at this point.
Well, maybe a little bit.

>>10563420
As the new moon road across the sky, the world below erupted in a wave of sound. It started at Sin'Galla, the night lands, where the wolfkin's cries haunted the air and queued the beings of Lei'Galla the time was near. To the south of Lei'Galla the sage temple watched from a distance and prayed in silence. further east Rin'Galla prepaired for the end then stood about in confusion when nothing changed. The priests of Rin'Galla claimed the end was still upon them even after the moon had past their lands and the sun burned in the sky once again. the Dested lands that sat in the center of the world was mostly unpopulated, its few inhabitants knew nothing of the new moon and its passing went unmarked.

The great city La'Galla celebrated. At their border soldiers climbed from their trenches and hovels and met at the center of what would once again be a battle feild at sun rise. for ten hours the thousand year war was at an end, La'Gallan and Lin'Gallan warriors knew peace for the first and last time of their lives. The free lands east of Lin'Galla drank heavily as the witches in Zell Tower prepared their machines. These witches cursed at the moon after it passed by and as it disappeared in the distance they rechecked their books and tried to pinpoint where they had gone wrong.

The dragon king who lived at the end of the world briefly stepped outside his shrine and wondered how the rest of the world was reacting, then stepped back through the threshold and went to sleep.

>>10570309
Oh fuck, I remember what this was about now.
My writing wasn't ready for it at the time but the idea actually was fucking brilliant.

Oh well, guess I can never use that idea now unless I just say fuck it and start releasing shit as Sange

there was a man in a window
I never got to ask his name
I knew something about him though
I heard them say he was insane
he'd never laugh or cry or talk at all
but occasionally he would start to scream
then they would set fire to his lawn
and his grass would burn from black to green

>>10570321
God damn, did I post every shitty thing I ever wrote on this stupid ass board back then?

Fuck you past Sange! You're making me look like an idiot you bitch!

>>10570333
Oh damn, we on the poetry now. Shits about to get hilarious up in here.

>>10563420
http://pastebin.com/wMUHyRVR

All the people doing the same thing gained momentum. Earth’s streams put pressure against each other. Blone refined 800,000 barrels of oil per hour. Social credit scores plummeted. Intrigue began in the Nor Con. Worldenders and insurgents moved through City as AI laid off bureaucracy. Parties downtown vortexed and intensified. Walkers white knuckling shopping bags between shopping experiences. President Russell was paraphrased saying that they were now in a struggle between self esteem and justice. IS declared everything legal by executing the judiciary. The Minister of Defense was at sea.
Glous opened his eyes and unstuck his face from the damp spot on couch upholstery. His body shed numbness. Legs hanging over the edge of a loveseat, a sheet over bare torso. There was a table in front of him, covered in rolls of plastic bills, bottles, plates and pill jars. The night before was gone. Malmyn, was sleeping on a couch under a brown fur. He closed his eyes feeling each heart beat in behind them.
Social video memories of him speeding from a meeting, hand putting another bar into mouth with one hand, the other was holding his jar, the car was driving. There were two cash orders in his Delivery Franchise history. One after Malmyn had called him. He remembered that he accidently picked up, she waited a moment then a rich voice fill a roaring car cabin, “Gluosy, what are you doing?
Gluos’ head was on the steering wheel as he waited for her smile to die, “I’m working.”
She was still smiling, “what do you do again? Anyways, I found some beautiful houses...”
The rest of night was blank in his memory and phone records. Currently it was late afternoon and he was now located in Guia town, southern center of the City. Gluos said, “why am I here?”
Malmyn muttered from under her covers, “you showed up right after I called.”
Gluos grunted and tried to get up, he saw manicured fingers move from under the covers and point at the table, “and gave me enough cash for two down payments,” looking over the table she continued, “but, I called you last night, telling you about this house, and you got here right after with this bag of bills and were saying mean stuff then you said we’d go to a party on Friday and passed out on the couch.”
Gluos did not remember this but nodded, needing water, he was walking out of the room when Malmyn asked, “how did you get here so fast last night? You never said.”
“I need to shower,” he walked into the bathroom and stripped, grimacing at the screens on two walls playing Screen Co.’s commercial, promising to not put screens on your property for a price determined against the possible revenues by their installation. The millimeter thin screen was engineered to geometrically grow on surfaces collecting and broadcasting sensory images.

April stood with her hands behind her back, one foot forward and the other leg locked straight, her breasts were the closest fiber of her as her back was arched and her chest pushed forward. Her eyes were low and gazed at him through blinking eyelashes, and her lips formed in a way that would be fine if below her she wore a bikini and her background was a blue sky and crystal water proceeded by bright hot sand. Instead she wore a dirty school uniform that was torn at the sleeve, and her background was a pale-yellow surface inside a cold and tinted world.

scotch brite
not right
not a star or a sound in the night
not a fear or a wakening fright
scrub it clean and set things right.

I heard a bird singing
I saw the waiter bringing
something that I ordered once
cant remember, cant focus
what am I doing
I cant seem
to recall what I saw
when I saw it in a dream

long ago I saw a train
it frieghtend me
it showed me the key
what was this thing I saw?
I had slumped shoulders
and a slacked jaw
it was a freight train
it was my fear
it was a sound
that I couldn't hear
it reminded me of pain
a sound that I couldn't forget
and could never refraim
from hearing again
long after it passed
its a sound I fear
its a sound that will last.

with my mind's eye I cut a thread
and I throw a party for the dead
a graveyard of thoughts from days long passed
a bone yard of decay and ideas that didn't last
with a quiet whimper I shut the tomb
and leave these jewels to a lonely doom

the girl in the castle
alone but in power
the walls protected her
the guards defended her
she walked with a sway
she talked with class
she showed off her tits
she showed off her ass
she wanted to be free
she had a disease
she needed something else
she wanted it for herself
she could have given it away
to anyone on any day
in nine or ten different ways
I guess you could say
she wanted someone to dethrone her
writing this gave me a boner

icy cold and ready to refresh
I slurp the beverage and build a nest
a sit and think and rhyme some words
and close my eyes and hear the birds
like a freight train galloping through the sky
or a plane derailed and left to die
I hear this sound like a powerful scream
then I see that the birds were just a dream

I'm rocking this jam
telling these bitches I'm the man
but it got a bit loud
so I then turn to the crowd
and said I think I need a break
this jams not my taste

without a windowless rain
there is nothing to keep the insane sane
or the sane from going insane
or the masochist from being in pain
sometimes it may seem lame
but you got to remember
its not a windowless rain

it fell apart without a sound
the tiny pieces came crumbling down
like a black cat caught up on a barbed wire fence
or a poor kid stealing the rich cats nest
not the keys or the truck or the sun
but the hole motherfucker and the bullets cash sum
bringing back the memory before it fades
the last thing he saw was his killers ninth page

eggs smell bad
just like you
fish smell bad
just like you
steamed broccoli is ok
but I think I'd prefer
to just shut the hell up
and eat some desert

I received a message in the mail
the clock ticked
I was pretty sure it was meant for me
hard to tell, hard to see, hard to breath
opened it up
guess I'd better skip lunch
and dinner to
you'd do the same
if they were after you

the rumbling in my hands
and the boner in my pants
it made me feel like a man
nothing beneath me but the earth that can't keep me
the wind in my hair is like a-aaghhgaghhfffufuugh
Fuck that hurt.

I was jerking off while I wrote it
I always jerk off while I write
I jerk off in the darkness and in the light
on the street and on the bus
at the barber shop while they cut my hair
I'll jerk off just about anywhere

the river was gelid
on that summer day
the bells sounded hellish
so I ran away
but the ringing never stopped
and I was left with a block

Say what you want, these poems are fresh as shit.

>>10570402
You're posting all of this, aren't you

>>10570409
I'm seriously not but I wish this asshole would stop.

>>10570373
>>/lit/thread/3206432#p3209000

>>10570380
>>10570387
>>10570401
>>/lit/thread/3152784#p3155823

>>10570380
Got to admit that girl in the castle one was funny as shit. I don't remember writing it but I died laughing on that last line.

never knew he was a quitter
never knew the shoe could fit her
kind of thought the bird would walk
kind of thought the girl would talk
didn't think it smelled so bad
didn't think it'd seem so sad
once I found it drawn in chalk
once I saw them turn and gawk
now I sit and think of things
now I sit with songs to sing
would you see it the same way?
well, then again, you've seen it every day

icy cold and ready to refresh
I slurp the beverage and build a nest
a sit and think and rhyme some words
and close my eyes and hear the birds
like a freight train galloping through the sky
or a plane derailed and left to die
I hear this sound like a powerful scream
then I see that the birds were just a dream

possibly
but probably not
no
definitely not
well
what can I say?
I just heard about that bitch today

the story was unbelievable
the truth was inconceivable
the length was long
the width was wrong
the sight was gruesome
the fight went through em
and out the other end
Pepto-Bismol is your friend

I received a bloody message in the mail
the clock ticked
slower than a lazy snail
I was pretty sure it was meant for me
hard to tell, hard to see, hard to breath
opened it up
guess I'd better skip lunch
and dinner to
you'd do the same
if they were after you

the girl in the castle
alone but in power
the walls protected her
the guards defended her
she walked with a sway
she talked with class
she showed off her tits
she showed off her ass
she wanted to be free
she had a disease
she needed something else
she wanted it for herself
she could have given it away
to anyone on any day
in nine or ten different ways
I guess you could say
she wanted someone to dethrone her
writing this gave me a boner

>>10570446

I don't give a shit
so I'll write one about my dick
guess I ran out of ideas
or I ran out of...
FUCK!
yeah ok, this is kind of whack
stream of consciousness sometimes lacks
lacks and whack don't rhyme
I'll tell you what does rhyme
Hiroshima
and emphysema
best believe ya
when I crack a tina
I don't even know what that means
back off bitch before I wake you up
and you see that it was all a dream

with my mind's eye I cut a thread
and I throw a party for the dead
a graveyard of thoughts from days long passed
a bone yard of decay and ideas that didn't last
with a quiet whimper I shut the tomb
and leave these jewels to a lonely doom

a lonely world for some
a hole filled with cum
is it a dick in an ass
or a dildo of glass
with a pump attached
for artificial seaman to splash
or a kite that flies
between two skies
there's a shadow there you know
and it's not a nice place to go
I wouldn't know cause I haven't been there
not to brave and not to scared
not to insane is more like it
not upset enough to try and fight it
this is certainly not what I expected
this is definatly not what I intended

he calls me a pleb
like I'm some kind of disease
like I lack to the will to see
or a mouth to breath
like a stack of pies
set under the sky
or a cloud that floats
or a sink that boats
or is it a boat that sinks
or a coat that stinks
maybe I need some time
well, at least this shit rhymed

>>/lit/thread/3121828

Jamie stepped out of the front door amongst a wave of other children. Chatter hung in the air all around him. At some point someone said something to him, he guessed it was Tom or Rick, but he brushed them off and continued. He broke from the crowd and looked through the parking lot. He thought he found the right car a few times, but was fooled by black sedans similar to Death's. Then, just as he was about to give up he heard his voice.
"Hey, over here kid." Jamie turned and saw him inside his car, his fingers held a cigarette that hung just outside the window. Death smiled and nodded at him, a perfectly natural unassuming gesture, yet Jamie saw it as a practiced cover up to his intent. "Looking for something?" Death asked. up close Jamie could see his teeth had a slight yellow tint.
"I was looking for you." He said.
He opened his hands and shrugged "You found me." Jamie just stared back at him "So what do you want, kid?"
"I want to know exactly who the fuck you are."
"You should leave cursing to the cool kids." He lowered his sunglasses away from his eyes "You're not good at it."

>>/lit/thread/3115441#p3115638

>>10570482

"answer my question."
"I already explained, you're dad sent me. I'm here to look out for you."
"My dad's dead, he died in a car accident last night. You already knew that though."
"Is he? Hm, well the worlds a better place I guess. At least for you, it'll save you the trouble of doing it yourself one day, if that's really what you wanted." He flicked his cigarette away and it landed on the hot pavement where it continued to burn. "You want a ride?" Jamie kept intense eye contact with him for a moment then walked around to the side of the car and got in. Death put the car into drive and pulled out of the parking space. Once they were out of the parking lot and on the main road Jamie asked the other question he wanted to know.
"Are you real?"
"What's with you today kid? Your asking all kinds of weird questions... Of course your father did just die, apparently, so your probably a bit mixed up. Somehow I don't think your all that torn up about it though."
Jamie watched the smoke billowing out of the factory and pondered for a moment. "Is any of this real?"
"Reality is whatever you make of it, kid, but yeah it's all pretty god damn real if you ask me."

>>10570213
>>10570482
>>10570487
All right, I made it to the kid talking to death one. There is more shit after this, but I'm bored now.

>>10570545
I seriously hate you.

>>10570565
I've had to read so many of your posts, I've grown kind of fond of you, actually. Tell me, are you still a trucker? I'm genuinely curious.

>>10570630
Yeah I work locally now though. That means I actually get to go home at night and don't work crazy hours like before.

>>10570647
That's neat. I've got to say, listening to audio books while driving sounds very comfy.

>>10570683
Yeah man, it's nice. Being forced to do it all the time as a job it starts to get old, but I see a lot of road trips in my future. After I got all my shit together and I can retire.
I have one specific trip planned in my head where I'd drive from where I live in southeastern USA all the way up through Canada and into Alaska (in a car, not a bigass truck), then take a boat from there back down to California. From there I would then drive back across the states and back home.
Need to find a really worthwhile book to listen to for that trip, though. But yeah, a ridiculously massive road-trip is on my bucket-list some day.

>>10570753
That is very cool man, I hope you get to take that trip someday.