/lit/ - Literature

>>12904684
the man is cold. he wears a coat. there is fog, and a road, and a low wall, following the road, as well as a set of stairs. the man goes down the stairs. the stairs go from the higher plane to the lower plane. the man wishes to leave the higher plane. he would like to go down the stairs so he does so. while walking down the stairs in the fog and in his coat, he realizes that he is in a very foggy place, and that it was a good idea to bring his coat when he left his residence this morning. it is always nice to have a coat when you could use having a coat.

Mikey was just another boy
a kid who didnt have any love
he found bliss with a needle,
he called it his medusa's little kiss
mikey scored another hit
he went to where he usually sits
under 23rd and 7th street
under a bridge so he could sleep

IT WAS A COLD MISTY EVENING
AND AS ANON WALKED DOWN THOSE STEPS WITH HIS PRIM ELF STICKS
HIS SURROUNDINGS WERE VOID
FOR IN SIDE MONEY RAN AND SLOWLY HE BIT DOWN ON HIS SOFT FRAGILE LIPS

then that feel, coverse meets earth, and looking around to his graveyard he spotted his man, feet on a gravestone tied, his arms too, he was lying back on the ground.

Anon drew close joyously prancing like a clown,
''hippy ski[ hippy skip, I'm bacccccccck''
then Anon pulled back his dark coat and showed his beautiful machete steel he had strapped to the interior.

''hmmm hmmm hmm'' ''hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm''
that tape was on tight.

''now be a good boy and SHUT THE FUCK UP

YOU PIECE OF SHIT I HHHHHHHATEE YOU''

the blade went threw and blood was pouring out beautifully, when Anon had had enough, he pulled back, he was alive, he laughed throwing his hood back and looked around taking in this moment.
Soon he pushed the body down in to the grave and lifted the spade, time for the dirty work.

>>12904684
The air hung coldly, such that the innards of his coat pockets provided no warmth, but still he held them there. Just as his hands halted pointlessly so did his mind twirl on the spot, floating in and around the same nagging thoughts that besot him with anguish. Only a minute remained before he would enter again through the doors that he had entered what seemed to be an infinite amount. another wasted walk of fruitless thoughts for fruitless memories and fruitless endeavours. At least he would feel warmth.

Pls r8 and critique

>>12904684
I came close to it once. Yes, i saw it, im sure i did; right infront of my eyes it was, i could have taken it there and then if i desired.
I had searched for so long, and then, when i wasnt even inquiring it, it was right there, infront of me.
It was the greatest joke in the world, i believe, that the object of my desires, that the only thing equivalent to my lost youth and broken body, would be right in front of my eyes, only when i did not desire it, for that fleeting moment.
But alas; there it was, in all its unanimous oneness. I wanted to hold it in my soul, and let it touch my deepest person. But sadly, i was not searching in the moment, and i knew that the moment i started searching, it would vanish into the dusk and muck, to never be found again.
I laughed and shed a few tears as i turned my back to it, and step after step, heard the gentle patter of rain come back, and my own footsteps gradually becoming audiable again.
in the same pace, the warming gentle light caressing my back, was slowly losing way to the bitter coldness of the meaningless.

>>12904895
well that escalated

>>12904958
The shrieking bugs. The voices of children. The gasps of tourists. All these summer sounds were muffled outside of Benny's costume. At night he was himself - although alone. Cool breezy nights in his own home where his only company was the crickets and biting bugs. During the day, he was Tigger for the children. For the children. At first he dreaded the mornings where he crawled inside his furry prison; as time went on, however, he became accustomed to it. Too much in fact. For the long days at the zoo he would play with the kids and put on the persona of this fictional tiger. The little boys and girls loved him. Loved him more than his mom ever did. There was the anonymity too; he wasn't Benny anymore, now he was only Tigger. "Hi Tigger!" the kids would shout at him. He could shove his actual sad life into a drawer and enjoy a day as something else.
He would go home each night and stare into his mirror with disdain. His brown hair, crowning at his head unlike the fiery manes that encompassed the mighty tiger. His beady little eyes. Dull teeth. Ugly mug that not even a mother could love. It came to a point where he started sleeping in the Tigger costume.

It was on this fateful day that the zoo had a new exhibit. The mighty mighty tiger. Benny gazed upon the creature. Contemplated it. The paws were thick and heavy, purely feline - not like his orange hands. The tiger's face looked back at him with pride, a feral pride that man has not had since the dawn of fire. In this moment Benny remembered he was man. He was a fraud. He did not feel like a man, but he was not a tiger. He fainted.

>>12905197
I have no idea why, but that seems like one of the funniest things I've seen on this board

>>12904958
The tiger
He destroyed his cage
Yes
YES
The tiger is out.

>>12905199
i agree. every time i see it i laugh and it doesn't ever seem to lose its humor

>>12905385
based

>>12905197
Genius

>>12905045
I heard the man in the stall next to me frantically spinning and rattling the toilet paper dispenser a couple seconds after I dropped my gun onto the floor with a clank.
Let him go, I thought, he doesn't understand yet. But maybe one day he will.
The Shit Goblins have been after my turds for years now. Too many times I've been trapped in a public stall kicking at them like a sadistic game of Whack-a-Mole while searching for an improvised weapon of sorts.
Most toilet paper dispensers can be removed from the side of a stall and used almost like a book you swat at a fly with. The only difference is that the "fly" isn't a fly. It's a one-foot-tall imp-like creature with dark brown skin like a toad's. And the aftermath of squashing them is much more gruesome.
Occasionally you find a public toilet to defecate in whose tank has a removable top. Those are the second best weapon. Heavy ceramic works well on the Goblins.
The one tried and true Shit Goblin defense, however, is a gun. Preferably something better than a pistol, but you can't always discretely stow a rifle into a pant leg.
Where the Shit Goblins came from, I don't know, but there is a seemingly endless supply of them, and they've been chasing my feces for nearly a decade.
It's my shit. Not theirs. And I will die protecting it.

>>12904684
It;s a good night to walk. The only time I ever leave the house is in harsh weather

“What ya got?”
Anon stared at the stairs, watching quietly as the mist gathered around the park.
“Just tell me”, he insisted, “what ya have for me”
Anonine sighed and unwrapped a bag under his coat.
“Just the usual”, she said. “Joyce, Pynchon, Mishima, Kaf-“
“Not good enough”, Anon cried, as the quiet mist absorbed his despise.
She knew what he was about to say. She looked at him, and felt the void in her heart, growing as a tumor.
“Fucking normie”
The last words she heard, as a silent high pitched scream, felt as leaves falling into a lake,
“Reee-“

>>12904684
I should have listened. Back in the Trump days, the online trolls told me not to marry a black woman. "Race traitor," they called me. It was online, then.

After the balkanization, I was b& from entering the ethno state. I am forced to gather fungus off of the MLK statue for food. I didn't find much, today, but it should feed Shaniqua and baby Goblino.

I should have listened.

>>12905197
and then he turned the engine on and out of sudden panic and nigger-fear he decided to speed away. But being so distracted by his thoughts and history's general edict on niggers, he drove like a mad woman and ended up accidentally knocking over some famous left wing actor dude who was filling gas in front of him. The left wing actor dude fell over and his weed joint flew away from his mouth causing mini orange sparks all over the concrete floor. OH Fuck! Have i killed a left wing actor? he murmured. But he didn't stop. Not for a few yards at least. After he'd gone a few yards though, the guilt hit him because the left wing actor dude looked white. Agnus Dei! he murmured. So he stopped his car and looked back. The left wing actor dude was writhing on the floor and his white collar shirt was bleeding red under the blue neon lights. Colors! he murmured.

Soon some niggers came to help the left wing actor dude. This is it, he thought. Hit and run is a serious punishable offence. I am fucked. The left wing actor dude is now definitely going to destroy me with his tweets or maybe his instagram. Maybe i should go and help the left wing actor dude and apologize to him or something. He looks half-educated. Maybe he'll understand my evolutionary Durkheimian imperatives. But before he could do that, he saw something. The left wing actor dude suddenly jumped up to his feet like a cat out of Hollywood. The left wing actor dude drew his Magnum 44 and pointed it at the niggers and said something, which, even at this distance, could easily be lip read as - Get away from me, you fucking niggers...and don't touch my fucking joint. The niggers ran away. Amen brother! he shouted at the left wing actor dude and turned his engine on again. The actor dude picked his joint up and waved back at the car that had almost killed him and moved his lips again and said - I got this, brother. Enjoy your meal. Sayo-fucking-Nara! he said. And thence, they both sped off into the darkness. Smiling away in peace from that site of nigger terror. Second Amendment best amendment! he murmured. The joint glowed red.

>>12904684
As dreary and languid as the nebulous clouds that surrounded me, I descended the stairs with a slight slouch about my shoulders - melancholy, and perhaps detested; and those lazy clouds that linger above me suffocate me with loneliness, and protect me from those piercing and pliable stares, and whose very intentions behind their stares leave me wary, and leave me walking in this wretched mast of gales that should propel me forward, as I am a ship that soars above the torridity of tides only to discover an island of truth and knowledge, of those ambiguity of abstractions which I have long sought. For I have always been melancholy; and the Heavens prostrate to me; and the waters whistle to me; and this grey vapors that should cover me and bear witness to my unruly grievances, and that, if I were as confident as those slanting rays of light that pierce the grey clouds with their brightness, and their illusions of hope and goodness - if this heavy anguish within me did not bear its weight upon my head and bring it to bowing to the floor with abashedness, with melancholy and humility! I would have lifted my head to the Heavens, and with one crackle of thunder, I would have stretched my grievances to that God I so adore and unveiled the coat around my heart and left its remnants spilling to the floor in a puddle, in a rivulet perhaps, in which others might tread upon, or perhaps splash upon, in a flurried frenzy to get home, to seek the shelter which I have long since been deprived from. And then, and only then, will I finally be set free.

bump

>>12906766
>Honey, could you pass me my glasses?

>>12906766
Beautiful youth that passes so soonly.
If I could see you again I dare say things would be better, but different. Oh to sit among the flowers without a thought to the future, beautiful blissful youth I long for thee.

>>12906894
It's cold in here, she thought.

>>12906916
I should be writing instead of clicking photographs.

>>12907809

>>12907959
Focus.

>>12908538

>

>>12906894
Nipple protruded, proudly, brazenly the milky life nourishing teat assaulted my virginal vision. "Her areola is brown" thought I, "nigger genes" the conclusion. Wrists delicate easily broken. Cashmere morning coat covers here coaxing gentle frame.
"CAMERAS READY" came a hoarse demand, Jay Rubenstein my employer. I an automaton shift to my position. Casually woman with the dark areolæ swivels around and climbs on her chair. Squatting there she is joined by her companion under her, face towards her exposed anus, contracting for the camera now. BBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP the first meaty chunk explodes viciously from the puckering hole. PPPPPPPPPPPPPPRRRRRRRRRRRRIIIIPPPPPP the follow up farts toot their methane aftertune.

>>12909221
This style is so overrated.

>>12904790
wow

>>12909236
based

>>12908658
Someday, we'll have to stop chasing shadows beyond the bend, he began his letter.

Now stop, anon. You're making me sad with these dreary pics.

>>12911028
It's 17 degrees Fahrenheit outside. The snow has covered the ground for about a week now, occasionally being replenished during the night, only for it to be plowed off of the streets come morning, though the neighborhood's yards remained untouched and quietly grew taller every couple of days. Too cold to go outside, I remain barricaded in the study. I try to write, but nothing seems to come out. When that happens I retreat to the kitchen for another pot's worth of coffee, hoping that the cheap, somewhat ashy-flavored grounds will suddenly jumpstart my brain. I sit on a stool at the counter. I look out through the window at the dark winter landscape that is my backyard. It looks harsh and uninviting. The trees appear to be dead. The bushes have lost their lush summertime-green. My eyes are only met with deep shades of brown and grey under the light of the moon.
Having finished my midnight pot of coffee I stand from the stool with a sigh. I switch off the bulb above the counter and begrudgingly return to the study through the darkness of the hall.
Before sitting down at my desk, I peer out the window once more. Delicate white flakes have begun to fall, continuing the endless winter.

bump

>>12906916
The waitress peered into the corner; there there was a quiet table where couples would come and pass hours of each others sweet company. Here, a small annex away from the noise of the restaurant, men would murmer and the women would giggle. She checked the time. Her shift will finish in a sorry few minutes; she was expecting a man to arrive and sit at that table. Then she could play the woman in love. She could play with her hair and giggle at undeserving words. Then they would talk and stare into each others eyes, uncomfortable at the intensity of holding that gaze, but resisting with all they have the urge to look away.

But he wasn't here yet, and time was running out.

>>12911341
I used the word giggle twice, I should have changed that.

>>12904684

>>12904939
He held what there? He held the pockets there? 0/5

bump wtf /lit/ stop making Land or JP threads that's all this board is nowadays

>>12904939
>The air hung coldly
this is so trite

>>12911374
naked lunch
>>12911323
ride the tiger

>>12908793
do you like taylor swift, butter?

>>12912341
I meant to link it to >>12905188
She’s pretty. Never listened to any of her music. Except this annoying one from a year or so ago

>>12911013

>>12912359
which one was that?

>>12912390
It was annoying and popular enough to reach my ears.
You’re talking to someone who probably hasn’t heard a single Justin Beaber song in her life

>>12912400
what music do you like? :)

bump

bump

>>12904684

It was a wet, oppressive fog that sapped the world of color and leeched into her bones. Somewhere down the road was a steady percussive booming, like some obscene giant encroaching on the borders of her shrunken world. She pulled her hood tight to her head. With something approximating relief, she turned to the staircase, and started making her way to the river.

>>12905762

me, I, my, me, me, me, me, me, me, I, I, I, me, me, me, my, I, me, my, I, my, I, my, I, my, I, I.

>>12911085

Did you actually not notice the creepy rando standing in the middle of the street or did you just choose to omit them?

>>12913341
i did not

>>12904790
Based and basedpilled.

>>12915631
态网自由门 天安門 天安门 法輪功 李洪志 Free Tibet 六四天安門事件 The Tiananmen Square protests of 1989 天安門大屠殺 The Tiananmen Square Massacre 反右派鬥爭 The Anti-Rightist Struggle 大躍進政策 The Great Leap Forward 文化大革命 The Great Proletarian Cultural Revolution 人權 Human Rights 民運 Democratization 自由 Freedom 獨立 Independence 多黨制 Multi-party system 台灣 臺灣 Taiwan Formosa 中華民國 Republic of China 西藏 土伯特 唐古特 Tibet 達賴喇嘛 Dalai Lama 法輪功 Falun Dafa 新疆維吾爾自治區 The Xinjiang Uyghur Autonomous Region 諾貝爾和平獎 Nobel Peace Prize 劉暁波 Liu Xiaobo 民主 言論 思想 反共 反革命 抗議 運動 騷亂 暴亂 騷擾 擾亂 抗暴 平反 維權 示威游行 李洪志 法輪大法 大法弟子 強制斷種 強制堕胎 民族淨化 人體實驗 肅清 胡耀邦 趙紫陽 魏京生 王丹 還政於民 和平演變 激流中國 北京之春 大紀元時報 九評論共産黨 獨裁 專制 壓制 統一 監視 鎮壓 迫害 侵略 掠奪 破壞 拷問 屠殺 活摘器官 誘拐 買賣人口 遊進 走私 毒品 賣淫 春畫 賭博 六合彩 天安門 天安门 法輪功 李洪志 Free Tibet 劉曉波动态网自由门

bump

>>12915646
you know this shit doesn't do anything right you edgy fag

bump

>>12916333
"Those goddamned Hare Krishnas are gonna pay for this!" Li Wei shrieked, his shrill voice echoing throughout the shivery expanse of the viaduct, bouncing like a ball of impotent Asian rage off of the surrounding expanses of concrete and over the many murky patches of ice coating them. "Mark my words brothers, and mark them well: by the time I'm through with those curry eating coprophiliacs, they'll be praying to every seven armed god they can think of for ten thousand years in Hell, just to escape my wrath! I swear, in Gautama's name, I'll-"
"That's enough Li."
Wang Yong did not have to raise his voice to silence the declarations of blasphemous vitriol spewing forth like raw sewage from his friend. At the sound of Wang's firm, equanimous rebuke, Li seemed to fold into himself, deflating instantly like a balloon punctured with a precise strike from a pin. Li Wei shuddered, and averted hid gaze from his fellows, choosing instead to stare down at the newspaper upon which he crouched.
"What they did is... intolerable. Unforgiveable," Wang Yong continued, resonant and steady, "and they *will* pay for it, this is true; clearly this city is not big enough for the both of us. But we *will not* lose our heads in this matter. Do I make myself clear?"
Wang Yong looked around to the faces of his brother monks for affirmation they were only too willing to provide, each nodding in understanding and concurrence. Even Li, eyes downcast and face red with shame from his furious outburst, managed a slight bob of the head.
"Let us not forget, my brothers," Wang Yong half-smiled, "we are, first and foremost, disciples of the Enlightened One, and we are here, in this reality, on this plane, to relieve the wicked of their suffering... by *any* means necessary."

>>12916333
>I liked the idea of non-attachment better when we lived in a comfy monastery

>>12916333
The weekly meeting of Men Dressed as Traffic Cones was now in session.

>>12912364
Maude had been playing Grouper on the house's retrofitted, tinny speakers for the last 48 hours straight, not even high, just chaining cigarettes while Evan knocked at the floorboards with his bound hands, his forehead, any sort of protest he could make. If his not suffocating beneath the floor had bothered Maude, she didn't show it. She was content to wait until he died of thirst.

>>12918579
based

>>12905014
>alas

>>12918569
what the fuck happened here?

>>12918961
>>12918569
looks like a glitch in the AI

>>12919216
It began with the literature board.

Late hours beneath the shade of night, I read the literature which was recommended me. That same June as started my journey, by the following August I had stopped masturbating. It was the Trip-man, with his serums of red and blue and brown. He told me to take these serums, and to read the books he prescribed.

I did just that, and flecked away all the rusted taste that once clung to my body like the bike he told me to throw away. Getting outside, he had said, was a distraction from the books. Read the books, engage in them, and your body will harden into a steel quicker than any workout routine could ever.
Here I am, now, many pounds overweight. I've become Trip-man, and I implore to you, dear reader; only read the Western Canon.

>>12918953
based

>>12911323
Stately, plump Buck Mulligan came from the stairhead bearing a FUCKFUCKFUCK FUCK A TIGER OH GOD AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH FUUUUUUUUCK

>>12904684
Like Orpheus descending into the bowels of hell in pursuit of his beloved, so too do I, a poet, troubadour, and singer of beautiful songs, begin my long march down the staircase connecting Lennox Avenue to Martin Luther King Jr. Boulevard, to Jayquan's shitty gang-infested graffiti-covered tenement building and my most recent fix of the Big H. Already, less than twelve hours after the last hit, and I can already feel the withdrawals setting in, the tightness in my guts, the mild unease that will, if denied long enough, rapidly blossom into full-blown agony like some hideous, diseased flower, the sinking feeling of dread and doomed unreality closing in like the blankets of fog surrounding the Lennox staircase, suffocating my body and filling my mind. Leo Bloom got to travel with Sinbad the Sailor and Tinbad the Tailor and Jinbad the Jailer and Whinbad the Whaler and Ninbad the Nailer and Finbad the Failer and Binbad the Bailer and Pinbad the Pailer and Minbad the Mailer and Hinbad the Hailer and Rinbad the Railer and Dinbad the Kailer and Vinbad the Quailer and Linbad the Yailer and Xinbad the Phthailer, but me? I walk alone. Well, on second thought, that's not entirely true. I walk with horse too, or rather, horse walks with me. That's the thing all the moralizing scumbag hypocrite drug warriors of the world would rather die at the hands of Mexican cartels than admit: whether you're like me and smack is your poison of choice, or you're like my brother and meth is what does it for you, or you're like my mom, a lifelong alcoholic through and through, whatever you're into, whatever turns you on, the fact remains that as long as you have it, you can rely on it, completely and utterly. It won't lie to your face or let you down when you need it the most or betray you out of sheer petty spite. As long as you can hold onto it, as long as you can pay the price, it will remain by your side, a bulletproof vest against the chaos of the world, a life preserver in the midst of the shipwreck of our lives, never judging, always accepting. If that's not true blue love, I don't know what is.
I max out the volume on my iphone, raising the volume of the gorgeous sounds of some Bladee-Neutral Milk Hotel mashup running through my headphones to nearly intolerable levels, and begin the long descent into the valley of the shadow of death, to Jayquan's crib, where my bride awaits me.

/lit/ is dead if a thread like this can't stay alive

>>12920979
1. /lit/ is a board
2. Why don't you contribute to this thread instead of bitching about its slowness like a useless piece of shit?

>>12921039

Im just here to get away from the white natuonalist pol tards and the even more retarded b tards

>>12921039
i've written four stories you dolt

>>12920535
what is this garbage?

>>12921133
checked

>>12908793
>>12912341
The wind drifted lazily through Keanu's beard and Taylor's skirts as they sat. They were supposed to share this day that they had together, but as it had been lately, the chemistry was off. They each had something to distract them from the other. He munched on a sandwich she had made him the day before, and she had demos for her upcoming songs on her iPod, which she listened to over and over again. Keanu was convinced that she wasn't even aware of him any more, and he realized that he'd stop thinking about her as well once this sandwich she made him was gone.

"Do you like me?" she said to him, our of the blue and without even looking up from her device.

He looked at the butter glimmering in the sunlight on the last bite of the remaining bread and thought for a moment.

"Do you like Taylor Swift, butter?" he asked, after a while. The food didn't answer him.

He put it in his mouth.

>>12921380
10/10

>>12906916
Alex sidled awkwardly into the corner booth, which stood in a recessed wall away from the noise of the restaurant floor. He should have been calming himself, but all he could think about were his rain-soaked khaki pants, how they uncomfortably stuck to the polished wooden bench and pressed his backside with an unwelcome coolness. The last time Alex had sat there had been another rainy day, almost four years ago now. It was homecoming Saturday, and the drizzle had begun just as the game was wrapping up. He had hurried out of the stadium with four others that day. There was Brian Cernak, the leader of the bunch, a boy of genuine charisma. There was Lili, his girlfriend at the time, and sometimes since then. Jared, a nonentity, who later went to a very important school out east. And there was Andrew Cooper, who was just called Cooper. The five had walked across town and into the restaurant, which was mostly empty at four o'clock, and squeezed into the booth in the corner, in bright conversation despite their dampness. And of all of them, Alex wondered, that he would come to meet again on this day, that it should be the one that he cared for not at all.

>>12921669
i like this anon

>>12921669
Thank you. If I really wanted to turn this into the story, I would have taken more time with the details instead of trying to cram so much into one paragraph. But freewriting is a good exercise

>>12921772
agreed. it's good practice

>>12918964
Sale never for baby: worn. Shoes.

>a bunch of pictures posted
>most of the ones Anonymous tries to write about are hardly notable.
>Only one or two of the interesting pictures get written about.
... Looks like it's up to me. I'll be back sometime within the next 24 hours if this is up.

>>12921133
My diary desu

>>12906766
Twelve months into their relationship, and the young photographer Kurt was disturbed to find himself fantasizing daily about shooting Catherine with more than just a camera. "How do I look, babe?" she grinned, playfully poking out her tongue at Kurt and striking an exaggeratedly artistic pose, the golden orange of the many wild flowers scattered throughout the field around the pair of adolescent lovers complementing her every perfect feature.
"Exquisite, cutie," Kurt smiled back as he adjusted his camera to focus, rather than the subject herself, upon the background of the shot, the veritable carpet of flowers behind and around Catherine, "Just lovely."
Kurt snapped the picture and imagined for a moment Catherine's head erupting in a grisly, torrential fountain of blood, pulverized to a meaty pulp from the inside out by the explosive impact of the shell, chunks of skull and gobs of brain matter splattering wetly over the surrounding flora like some gory bukkake. Of course she'd fall to the ground, Kurt thought, but would her body twitch? Would it be like with victims of decapitation, her spinal cord continuing to emanate doomed impulses to her limbs for minutes after her death? Kurt couldn't help but wonder as he swapped the exhausted roll of film for a new cylinder. As Kurt switched out his film, peering down at his camera intently, she stood up and came to him, seeming to glide through the low sea of flowers.
"Thanks for bringing me here finally," Catherine beamed and plopped down next to him. She sighed in contentment, a breezy, willowy sort of sound, and cuddled up against Kurt, resting her head against his shoulder; Kurt pulled her closer and readjusted himself so that she'd be more comfortable leaning into him.
There was a brief interval of silence between the two lovers, during which time the only sounds audible throughout the sunset drenched field were the faraway chirping of birds from the distant tree line and the steady, gentle hum of cicadas, intoxicated on the air of the summer evening; it was Catherine who ended it.
"I'm... I'm still sorry, you know..." she spoke softly. Pressed tightly against each other as they were, Kurt couldn't see her face, but he could imagine with ease the teary, wistful look in her eyes. "I was so stupid. Not a day goes by that I don't regret it... I-"
Kurt cut her off.
"Babe, don't you even worry about it , it's ancient history. No point even bringing it up, love. Forgive and forget, right?" he pulled away and grinned in her face, raising his camera and snapping another shot.

>>12922140
Edgy
>gory bukkake
lol
I liked it though.

>>12922164
Thanks dawg. Often I find it very difficult determining the appropriate amount of edge to include in my work; unlike with >>12920535, where I tried to be as nauseatingly cringey and overwrought as possible, and >>12918263, where I tried to avoid any kind of genuine edge and go for tongue-in-cheek silliness, I legit tried to achieve a balance and not purposefully overdo or underdo it in this one.

>>12905110
Boundaries. Boundaries have always protected man from that which seeks to break him. Unknowable things are waiting beyond the boundaries of reality and the boundaries of the mind protect man where reality wears thin. Whether broken minds simply lust for these spaces or the mind of man can erode reality itself is impossible to know but what is certain is that when one boundary breaks another is sure to follow. However, some men are born without boundaries, some men are born among company that does not exist.
Awaken my children, it is time to feast.

>>12904833
>>12920535
These two work well together.

>>12906766
Here's my >>12922164 attempt >>12922179.
Before you read it, I'll preface it by saying that I'm a /sci/fag and I have a computer science exam in 2 days (and I've had no sleep so far today).
The last time I attempted to create poetry was in highschool, so don't be too harsh.

Auburn orange, and bright blue seen across
Some valley driven on by a death's dove.
Delicate primrose that arose my dross;
Was it some sow that sowed the seeds of love
That I refuse? To what credit can I emboss

My Mexican gold and desert dandy?
Was she to be my lizard's tail, that she
Herself would eat in the mornings to soothe
Herself a plumed pear picked by me.
"Suit yourself" she said, and in a few weeks
The bloom is gone, and reduced to desert.

>>12906766
Here's my >>12922164 attempt >>12922179.
Before you read it, I'll preface it by saying that I'm a /sci/fag and I have a computer science exam in 2 days (and I've had no sleep so far today).
The last time I attempted to create poetry was in highschool, so don't be too harsh.

Auburn orange, and bright blue seen across
Some valley driven on by a death's dove.
Delicate primrose that arose my dross;
Was it some sow that sowed the seeds of love
That I refuse? To what credit can I emboss

My Mexican gold and desert dandy?
Was she to be my lizard's tail, that she
Herself would eat in the mornings to soothe
Herself a plummed pear picked by me.
"Suit yourself" she said, and in a few weeks
The bloom is gone, and reduced to desert.

>>12907959
These roads, I've gone though them thousands of times, yet they feel like they've never changed and never will. It's soulless.

>>12911374
HOWLS OF THUNDER. THE CANINE SCREAMS ECHOING AND RESONATING THROUGH A HALF DRENCHED-IN-SHIT ROOM NEVER TRULY LEAVES YOU.

>>12922514
one day they will

>>12906916
This is the home of Donald Duck, a man ostracized in his youth as a result of his name. This table is hardly visited by regular customers because of rumors of its haunting by the ghost of a mysterious man who shot himself in the head after ordering a small coffee. And when someone unfamiliar does sit down at the table, he squeezes himself into as tight a package as he can so as not to collide with the foreigners' limbs. Mistakes do happen, but, more often than not, they're blamed on the ghost.

It's been upwards of two years now. How no one has noticed the smell is anyone's guess. Washing up in the bathroom after closing can only do so much. His diet is poor, consisting of sugar packets, pastries, and coffee. Lots of coffee. The momentary psychosis it produces when taken in extreme quantities is his one true enjoyment in life, other than eying the suspicious strangers who wander in and out of his territory, his ears keenly searching for the words. Donald Duck. He's committed himself to remaining in his tiny kingdom until he experiences direct evidence that someone, anyone, remembers him. All it would take is a simple, "Where did Donald Duck go?". Or, "I wonder what happened to that guy, what was his name again, Darius Duke? You remember, from high school?" Yes, he would settle even for Darius Duke now. Time has eroded his standards. But no such luck. Not so much as a peep. Plenty of people got into an uproar about Goofy. Mickey Mouse even had posters. Minnie topped them all, with a full-blown search conducted in the nearby woods where she was known to loiter. Police believed she may have been attacked by wild animals, but in truth she was hiding in a box at a nearby home improvement store. And when she saw that, in spite of the terrors that they inflicted on her, others truly did care for her, it moved her, and she popped out. "Here I am!" And the town was, for a moment, joyous. Minnie, it seemed, would be joyous for an eternity. Donald envied that joy. She soon reintegrated into society, becoming a high profile attorney or businesswoman or some such thing. Her apartment is visible from outside that window with the sea shells. Not from this angle, you have to stand up on your tiptoes unless you're very tall.

>>12923797

Donald had an itch behind his ear. He inadvertently bumped into a woman seated above him while scratching, mumbling out an apology. "Oh! The ghost stories were real!", she cried out loud. Her initial reaction was to be afraid, but this fear amused her and produced great thrills, like she was standing at the edge of a cliff and could fall off at any moment, so she stayed put, continuing the light conversation she was having with her male companion, who seemed to take no notice.

Every once in a while a child would see his eyes shimmering in the darkness, or a foot peeking out from underneath the table. And they would often stare, tauntingly. Mouthing the words, "Donald Duck". But never saying them. They knew how to set him free. The ignorant adults had forgotten, but they didn't. All they had to do was say the words, and he would explode from underneath with confetti bombs and balloons. But they held back, sadistically enjoying their brief reign until the haze of adulthood that they knew all too well was coming takes over and cleanly brushes away their memory, too, leaving them none the wiser.

>>12906818
Great work

>>12906832
Based

>>12906832
This is really good

>>12911345
it’s ok I still liked it

>>12906766
Irresistible rest: auburn flower bed,
The voice of the lady like a potion to consume,
And to transcend this prison of moment to moment delirium,
The girl with a flower backdrop: offers all the world her simulacra
for a chance to be, not just a picture.

>>12923604
I was being expressive bro, how kind of you to obviously fuck me by saying the obvious.

>>12925582
you have to look facts in the face

>>12908719
Under a grim and smokey sky stood the arcane being, icy white; a dream-like spectacle in how it contrasted those ashen grounds. To its back awaited rancor suppressed, the bestial siege ever black, and further back its throng most foul. The hollow stare of Epteshrike drifted abroad to meet each and every one of its enemies as it threw back its cape. Revealed was a menacing hand which tightened the hold to its falcata. In this sudden moment, the other was raised in authority. Out came the bellowing words in a multitude of voices.
"NE-EM TROSD, SATRIEL FAOLAPHEN!!!"
A distant rumble replied to it; the army to its back heeded the command. Turning a sideward glance to its siege beasts, it left the ground before it roared.
"NE-EM TROSD, ZILERUP!!!"
They, too, heeded it. Epteshrike's fragmented wings began to swell and curve as the entire horde proceeded forth to strike. In the moment its focus returned to Jerusalem and their sentinels, the flow of battle had become mapped. In five different channels, its mind had already worked its thoughts. The blood of man and angel was as good as supped.

join general_lit

https://discord.gg/mAKH8aS

>>12915621
His cartwheeling led him right off of the trampoline, and he tumbled onto his face with a hard wallop of concrete. In just a moment, he was back on his feet when the wind threw him aside. His reaction was to dance, throwing his hip aside when he caught the ground with a sliding foot. Holding no concern, wonder or even a suspicion of why he was still unscathed, he flitted back above the trampoline and dove down at its mesh with his face. The ground kissed and crunched his nose one moment, and the next saw him baptised with the sky. His smile widened and the cloudy sunset kept spinning around him. Soon enough, his head began to tremble and then rattle. Still spinning, he wrapped his arms around his head as if to try and still it. No sapience, just short-sighted acceptance. No agency, just the empty mind of the aloof. His embrace tightened. Without eyes, he came to know that his falling body was headed for the spike. When he landed, it sought for his head and caught him like a spit. His frame bounced on it, and it prodded his scalp every time. Sensation became real...

... until he awoke to the slight pain. James threw his arms out defensively at whoever it was that poked him. Propping himself up, he looked around in a wide-eyed panic. After scrambling to a safer distance, he would look upon the entity. A droid, he thought. About him was a desert, dry as bone and twice as cooked by the white giant in the sky. His helmet was off, which dually served to startle and relieve him. Air on this world was good. The machine did not appear to move with hostile intention, but simply looked at him with an abrupt turn of its 'head'. To the side could he see his entry capsule, a hardly ruined thing were it not for its shattered glass pane. He was sweating inside of his space suit. Also, he could still feel the diminishing sensation where the machine had been prodding him. As a matter of fact, his entire head hurt. Where was he? Casting the upper body of his space suit aside, he came to the edge of the mesa and looked off into the cloud-veiled horizon. air was so thin, he could barely feel any wind. 'Too bad', he thought. Tracing the curvature of cloud plumes, his memories began to return.

>>12924258
He couldn't tell how long he had been there, on that beach of that day, not even whether he was losing consciousness or coming to, and his first memory was this: Definite knowledge of having the world to himself, combined with a hazy sense that whatever catastrophes were involved, they came gradually as a pressure relieved, while some ache, too light to name, increased as the giddiness of wine does. Next he remembered that, yes, the archive is secure and complete as before, packed with enough in the way of experiences ready to re-experience, that he could personally witness the sun's death before exhausting their variety. One hardly knows where to begin when it could be anywhere on Earth, and anywhen prior. Yet time is definite, objective whether or not one's subjectivity erodes to tell it. What's 10 million years of dreamless sleep to the universe, when there are 10 million each of those to taste what was, to others long gone, personal paradises that seemed universal?

>>12922140
Legitimately good, I had fun reading this anon.

>>12915631
Standing by for more orders, Sergei remained alert. The day was grey and devoid of any sun or comfort. Men were patrolling their held perimeter, and he made sure to scan every single one of them as they marched past. Hoping that his companions would hurry up and load the personnel carrier, he knew that as easier as it was for him to day-dream the rest of his wait, it was a very poor choice. He longed for a time when he could claim that life was once again a daily repetitive lull. Reality was cruel to him; the reality of never returning to old times. Wishing for safety for nostalgia's sake was a sadnes, but wanting safety for the sake of safety was a fear barbed and pricked against the soul. Urgency roused vigor and it made him alive, but only to stand before the possibility of certain death. So long as the world's present lunacy remained, the lull would never return. No certainty was his only certainty.

Todd approached Sergei and asked while pointing to the patrolling soldiers, "You see that man marching in the front with the beige hat?"

That, he could.

"He's the captain and son of our host. I heard he wants to come with us to Lake Watts and help train the men."

Sergei turned to glance at him.

"I know what you're going to say. But, just... hear him out. He says he's got more to add to that offer," finished Todd. Sergei only looked down at his companion with a wide grin. Todd's gaze met his, and he knew at that moment that something was growing out of a slow-burning anger in those grisly blue eyes. Todd could read well the contempt on his leader's face, as subtle as it was.


Third one done in four hours... I might do a fourth... but only if someone requests.

>>12926441
>>12926407
Butler Anon X Bitchy Zelda pls

>>12926584
Tomorrow,... if the thread is still up.

>>12911374
es caca

>>12926848
That was it, she'd had it with the underhandedness of men. She pledged to saw off herself one piece at a time starting with the same hand she was born with. With stiff expression her mind stirred electric. Rippling blood filled the tiny notches of teeth. Before the final tender strings of flesh were parted a thought held itself beyond all feeling. A thought of her askew fiance Andrew. He once told her that he saw in her something more. Now it was clear she saw in herself something less.

>>12926875
very nice

>>12922526
I love pics like this
source?

>>12912408
kek

>>12927661
>>12927661
>>12927661
"Th-this has never happened to me before!" Phil Burnell half-sobbed, frantically wacking off his softening erection in the vain hope of returning it to full hardness, "It's not my fault! Y-y-your pussy mechanics must be bugged!"
His new bride, naked on her back and spread wide before him on the bed, rolled her eyes and let out a deeply exasperated sigh. "I think the only *mechanics* *bugged* around here are the ones responsible for keeping that little thing of yours hard, Philly-Poo..." she sneered at her wheezing, desperate new husband.
The King of Hate didn't seem to notice her disparaging comment, but instead elicited a rather pathetic, retarded-sounding moan and continued to yank on his flaccid dick, tears in his eyes, before simultaneously snorting and farting. "Argghh FUCK THIS!" Phil swore as he leapt off the bed upon which he was supposed to consumate his marriage and waddled to the nearby bathroom, bizarrely pumping himself the whole time, before flinging the door and locking it.

bump

>>12926704
You better deliver for me Anon :D

>>12905188
North and South and East and West

There is a special moment in a drink where the alcohol clears, and one sees the minutest details. The brain is still. And the most important things come to mind.

We sat and passed the bottle around. Nobody smiled. Ben smoked. He was the only one standing. I'm sure that meant something.

Mads and Ben didn't wear coats, even in the snow. That meant something too.

I told them about a girl I met. A long time ago I wanted to be a painter. I went to school for it. And left. The alcohol and the drugs and the pessimism strangled me and left me unable to hold a brush still; and I fled before the professers could find out. But she was a painter. She went to a different school; a better school, that I could have applied to but chose not to. She trained in the impressionist methods, could see the pebbles of a river in a push. She could paint the wind; invisible. She was a lot of things that I could have been too.

She asked me about my father. I said I didn't speak to him anymore. She asked why. I didn't want to say. And she looked at me with her eyes that looked like marble and glass and whispered to me that it was alright; that I could open up. That I could tell her. And with that trap laid I walked into it and told her the truth; the truth that disqualified me and made me fall in love with the woman who opened the blossom of my soul and plucked the past from it.

She listened to my shame. And then we left and she went home. And I never saw her again. Maybe that meant something too.

We turned pale and blue while the bottle stayed the same and before long we looked as clear as it too.

bump

>>12925640
Neil sat at his bedroom desk gazing at a monitor which dimly illuminated his dark room revealing piles upon piles of work documents cluttered around the floor and on his desk. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes and wished that he was someone else, somewhere else. He was taken to some place between reality, and nothingness, a place hidden in the depths of his imagination.
He found himself strolling through a beautifully vivid field of flowers accompanied by a tangerine sky comfortingly watching over him. Neil felt an overwhelming sense of nostalgia run through him as he witnessed the wave-like movement of the gentle winds passing through the field leaving no stalk untouched, and no blade unmoved.
He opened his eyes, faced by the daunting reality of his life was manifested through the blinding light of his computer screen and the empty darkness shrouding around him as he stared at the piles of work in front of him.

bump

>>12929111
Alright motherfucker, what'd you ask?

>Butler Anon X Bitchy Zelda
Are you implying erotica?
I'm going to assume "no" and just roll with the picture.

>>12906766
He lay in wait not far behind her, just over the flowery rise of the hill.

*It* he screamed at himself in his mind, *it, don't ever forget that*. It only looks like a human. *Remember, remember what it did to the others.* With an effort of will he worked through the enumerations, forcing himself to calm. He couldn't afford to lose it now. He was the only one left. Silently and with infinite care, he cocked his bolder. Only one round left.

Make it count.

>>12906766
He lay in wait not far behind her, just over the flowery rise of the hill.

*It* he screamed at himself in his mind, *it, don't ever forget that*. It only looks like a human. *Remember...remember what it did to the others.* With an effort of will he worked through the enumerations, forcing himself to calm. He couldn't afford to lose it now. He was the only one left. Silently and with infinite care, he cocked his bolter. Only one round left.

Make it count.

>>12926407
Gabdi the butler was waiting outside of the royal baths with a towel over one forearm and robes over the other. He casually smiled at the chamber maid as she passed by, but she ignored him as usual. The king, he knew, was upstairs with his scribes, dealing with important things far above anyone elses duties. When Fimma, one of the other maids, came into the corridor from the side, he could see her at the corner of his vision. Seeming a little anxious, Fimma had been turning away from him and going back out. He snuck a peak at her and noticed her pantyhose was torn at the seam going down her leg. Before the door shut, Labdi was also able to hear a familiar voice of a man. "Shh... no we mustn't g--" and the door closed on her voice. Labdi knew what was going on. Castle staff fooling around with the soldiers. Labdi didn't have that problem-- he hardly remembered what it was like, and would only shake his head.
Moments passed until he heard the warm call of his name, "Gabdi!"
Stepping inside, his thin eyes opened a little. "Mi'lady Princess Zelda..."
Across from him in the spacious room she sat, inside of her ornate stone bathtub. The soapy water was up to her neck, and she seemed to be huddling in the heated water, all too comfortable to expose herself to the considerably cooler air. Zelda pursed her lips in annoyance, and her voice became colder and stern. "Mi'lady Zelda. Mi'lady Zelda. No 'Mi'lady Princess Zelda', Gabdi."
"Oh, pardon me, Mi'lady!" it was almost a plea. Zelda sighed as he was drawing closer. The steam and hot air swirled as he approached her. "Are you finished? I've got your robes and drying cloth. "
When Gabdi reached over with the towel, Zelda would wade over and emerge out of the water with a darting hand, snatching it from his hand. Her breasts bounced gracefully in this motion, although Gabdi's feet were now a bit drenched. "Yes, yes I am."

>>12931578
>>12931418
Grow the fuck up, assholes Or get the fuck out of my board. ENOUGH WITH YOUR TEEN FANTASIES. FUCK OFF.

>>12931578
Her butler feigned indifference, but only replied, "Oh, yes. And Mi'lady Zelda, I'll drain the water once you've exited." Zelda's breasts would serve a good handful for the man that the king would have her in marriage. Aye, and two good mouthfuls for the child she would one day have. Gabdi had seen her nude many a time, but came to notice how she had stopped growing. She was all too casual about having him see her like this, drying herself off. The room was very humid, but the dry and crisp towel had left her nipples agitated and stiff; aroused? As she attacked the bush between her thighs with her towel, she was bending over and letting them hang out like zora lanterns. Gabdi blinked at her with the same indifference; there was a reason why he was given this duty. A few years ago, she had tried to seduce him. It was a hot summer day that had gotten the best of her, or so he thought. She came to find out for herself why her father picked Gabdi as her personal butler. In the very beginning, she was very timid around him. Months passed and she had warmed up to him immensely. As she began to mature from a little girl, she even began to have new thoughts about him. Months would pass and she began to act very playful... too playful. It was when she lured him into her chamber one midnight that things had changed for her and him. No word had gotten out about what had happened, because of Zelda's shame and embarrassment. Gabdi, on the other hand, seemed to act as though nothing had happened. But after that day, her opinion of him had changed. She grew to see him as useless, perhaps even despicable.
"Well?" Zelda spoke out to her butler.
Gabdi winced, his thoughts leaving him. "Oh,... here, Mi'lady Zelda." When he extended the robes to her, she would snatch them in an instant.
"What are you thinking of? Something you've forgotten to get, mayhaps? Hmm...??? " With an eyebrow raised, she looked at him. Even with her golden hair bundled up in the towel did she seem royal, thankfully for those elvish ears that perked proudly up. The thin robe she garbed herself with had apparently failed to hide other things that were perking up.
"Uhm, I... oh. Please pardon me, Mi'lady Princess Zelda..." Out from inside of his coat lapel slipped her brush, and he gave it to her.
Zelda took the brush and began to fix her hair as she walked away, her firm buttocks being the last of her to be veiled by the steam. Gabdi awaited her leave, but she hadn't... not yet. She emerged from the steam with a look of annoyance. "Gabdi!... For Nayru's sake, it's 'Mi'lady Zelda'!!!... Hmmph!"

>>12931582
Huh? I'm doing a request for
>>12929111
>>12926584
>>12926407

So aim your shitcannon elsewhere, kid.

>>12931582
>get the fuck out of my board
Make me, nigger faggot.

>>12931593
>>12931625
>>12931588
seek therapy for your Zelda faggotry

>>12931593
I liked it Anon, Thank You

>>12906766
Tragically, Marie suffered from blur-itis. There was no known cure. No, she would be blurry all of her days, and so she was not only blurry, but sad too.

>>12906916
*record scratch*
My name is Patrick Star. You're probably wondering how I ended up here...

>>12904790
>>12904833
>>12904939
>>12905014
>>12905026
>>12905762
Cringe.

>>12904684
The sky howls grey litany as a scheme of black breaks the kneeling fog. It moves slowly, lost in the veil. Barely alife sticks grow wildley into nothingness haunted by fear of everlasting silence. The walls were waiting to devour the shadow as the the stairs were cut precisely into the stone to carry its burden. But soon the shadow will dissappear, and the sticks will rott but an undying scream will break from the mute and the steps will serve again.

>>12934706
Soon the shadow***

"but" was a mistake

>>12926225
This is pretty good

>>12904684

>>12936160
In all her splendor, signs of wealth arranged on her dressoir, look who the fuck it is, Gibi ASMR.