/lit/ - Literature

I am finished writing.

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I was a torpor
in the armpit
of the world.
I erased the smell
with deodorant
but the world don't change.

Gandalf beat Gerald with a fork. "A single 200 ml portion of coke holds 84 calories", he said, and died with a tear running down his cheek.

this doesn't work for me

The past present and future are same. one and all flows through each point and thus cannot be defounded. the future of the past is today, also the past of the future is today.

>>3350915
I once sucked six in a row, I once sucked six dirty dicks in a row.

something without thinking

She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that's best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes:
Thus mellow'd to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies.

One shade the more, one ray the less,
Had half impaired the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress,
Or softly lightens o'er her face;
Where thoughts serenely sweet express
How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.

And on that cheek, and o'er that brow,
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
But tell of days in goodness spent,
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent!

Margaret snatcher had crabs living in het leather boots. Throw them out the window onto winston. Buffalo cape cod fishes with horns and furry humps and lumps. Bears catch salmon with finger spikes.


My mind wanders...

And so I said to, >>3350962,

"Lay off the drugs"

egotasical into our blastical animorphing to canticasticles' tiny testicles

"Holy shit!" Look at that bird.
I motioned to Gerald
Gerald was invested in his phone
"Fuck you Gerald."

ridiculous beef with fromage, where jester lives
gargantuan harlot french wife sneezes happy

freedom goat buzzing churn weeds, thinking charcoal
crazy needs just frequently bottoms the gasoline

changeable yellow tyres and algerian grapes
now colourless amphibian grease limes are bent

Pshhh. Scaram barun bibibibi shuuukjwepa! Pratkjsit non est bargohoho shuvenjk. pi prosx pil limbostratus farosphere nomas no mas sugismundo sound, farwell baby. Wo shou french, barbarian, lingua de dios da saudade when I went xiao long water water, why water? Perjjjjjjjj urinol fec dec Roy. Quanto wo men shou perhaps. Yes, perhaps. ZZZZZZzzzugheda prisencon together more justino ghurdulu punta del carp koiquamnome.

automatic writing is for wankers

shit nigger fuck dick cock pussy ass cunt monkey nut bitch cracker faggot ass gay homo cunt fag

A man sits on a park bench. The sky is repulsively bright and the neon grass burns like shards in his retinas. Beside him is his beloved companion, Stripes. Stripes is a golden retriever; who possesses no stripes. It seemed funnier at the time.

I'm falling
I can barely stop myself from
going down
down
and down,
slowly.
I don't want to die.

It's like going to sleep isn't it?
We do it every night
Just drift to nothing
Trust that we'll awake in a few hour's time
But we fear the day we won't wake up
That final sleep, the unknowable feeling
Yet the only feeling that overcomes me now
Is weariness

What a stupid concept for a prompt. If only I could type as fast as i could think then the words would flow freely and I could sound like Keruak when he says hes that irish bakers son's ghost or whatever, the only good part of that book that was so brilliant i had for a moment glimpsed something magical. Alas the rest was pretty boring as shit.
Funny cuz a friend recommended it to me as a joke after I told him I didn't like catcher in the rye. I knew it was a joke but picked it up anyway because I want that image of being a literary person. Not at that moment of course, I read in secret and got it from the library. This ain't too bad but its stream of conscience bullshit let me describe the banner.

Here we have an anime character, a woman with blue hair and green yes, noseless, pointing to a sign from a heartwarming simpsons episode. I recognize her from images posted by various tripfags. this sucks, I suck, fml tfwng

I hate you, i'mfucking trying not to sleep and your gay ass poem got me dizzy.
bitch.

you are beautiful

>>3350915
barely through the morning
you haven't any clue
my shoes are in the doorway
your footprints on the floor
have been enough.

You know what sucks? Having an average dick. Now look, I'm a confident guy. I'm good looking, I lift weights, and play pickup football with my bros. I can make good conversation and I'm fairly intelligent, and yet there is one area I'll always be inferior to other guys. Nothing hurts quite so much as knowing that somethings cannot be fixed, no matter how much you try to improve yourself. Nothing can mount such a powerful attack on your self-image as the thought of someone being inexorably better than you simply because it is a natural part of their flesh. I suppose it's just a part of being human. We can't all be perfect. We're stuck with what we're given. Of course, not everything is lost. There are more important things in life than fucking women and an average dick doesn't preclude me from a happy sex life, after all, it is merely average. Still, the pain of the realization that after working your ass off to become the best you'll still be deficient in a certain area hurts like hell.


........And that's why I'm a transhumanist. Bring on the vibrator cock!

>>3351068
>Keruak

Whooo boy.

>>3350915
You know how you can tell when a T.V. show is about to turn to shit? When it becomes exceedingly self referential. When it starts referencing itself more often than it creates new material. This is particularly prevalent (for the life of me I cannot ever spell this word) in comedy shows. The most recent example I'm aware of is, that once darling, Community. Scholarly debate will rage for decades as to precisely when Community went off the rails, but it's safe to assume for us layman that it tripped up mid S2. All of a sudden show idea's are being repeated, suddenly chang is part of THE GROUP, suddenly THE GROUP is famous on campus, suddenly characters start devolving into a myriad of in-jokes (That's so Abed!), and sure enough the show goes out the window never to return. It's a damn shame. Other famous show killers are the Shark Jump and the consummation of the sexual tension that was sustaining the show.

My writing is Gawker tier and you can't stop me

The self referential trend is also the reason why /lit/ and this thread in general sucks so much. It is also the root of hipsterdom if you look close enough

Mac went to the store and Adam died while he was away.

No funeral services are planned.

Superficial and cursory. I have constructed a house of nothing but wallpaper. As I sit in my living room, I am fooled, but all who pass by laugh at my paper home and wonder what I will do when it rains.

I have thought of this very moment, the moment we collectively come to the conclusion we're all dead.

>>3351184
Sadly you are so right about Community. What a heap.

Communist era China. Shiitake mushrooms.

>>3351184
S2 is Family Guy-tier with regards to the cartoon-y shenanigans. I don't know why they kept coming back to the paintball thing.

Chang as a student/trying to be a part of the group was when he was at his funniest though.

Fluttering fear, intention is dust
Cluttering confusion, certainty is a must

Grant me wings
I’ll fly to the clouds above
For the splendor of new things
Find comfort in that which I love

Soaring far way
Across wonderful sunlight
How magnificent! How bright!
A morning; a new day.

Plummeting near, location shall crush
Sputtering delusion, my being is mush.

>>3350915
You're a cunt who bears his head high with golden hairs of hatred flowing like a molten crown.

once man was there
game he did
it was sublime and terminal
huj
gnome was you
just for free

I don't know what to write
It's just so hard sometimes
to come up with somethin'
I don't even know what I'm saying
'Cause I think I jus started thinking

>>3350956
lel

>>3350915
movement is change change is life, the end of a thing is a nothing but a reality is shattered into shreds of bacon. food, sex, love, death.

Red skin flaske off over time, we find none. It is held in wings of flagons of of of brews.

My brother is strange.

one time I found myself in the forest. The trees were breathing and exhaling shards of light. I thought of you laughing, and I saw your dimples. I was happy.

I got there 2 seconds too late; she was gone, and I was left there. Alone, trapped in a life she created for me and that I could not sustain on my own. Hell, no, but a living purgatory. It would take me years to burn away the sins she had left me with.

The pieces of mine shattered heart, how they doth ache.

What is this I don't even...

>>3350915
I'm thinking
Maybe I should blow my head up, because I don't think what's going on is going to work out. I want nothing more in life than a little bottle of cyanide so I can end this pathetic tragedy I call my life quickly and somewhat painlessly and it sure as hell wouldn't hurt as much as getting my head blown off but I can't get my hands on cyanide and I'm too much of a pussy to get hurt so I guess I'll have to continue living but I don't know if I'll be able to stand it any time soon because it's getting harder and harder and my brain keeps telling me to kill itself and it feels like the whole world wants me to fuck off so I might as well say goodbye goodbye world goodbye even though I don't know how I'll leave this planet I sure as hell will when I can't take it any more so goodbye

holy fuck you faggots are insufferable. not only can none of you write, the subject matter is wlways something like "boo hoo my life is so shit im gunna shoot myself waaaaah ;_;"

i never wanted to admit it but /lit/ really does have one of the worst communities on 4chan. and as I'm certain you all know, that's saying something

>>3351379
You know nothing

>>3351381
Atrociously incorrect spectrum. My lord.

>>3351385
On the contrary, it has been confirmed by numerous users from many boards to be fairly accurate. Go suggest your own one if you disagree.

>>3351387
I can think of few things I'm less inclined to do than make a spectrum of the 4chan boards. In fact, just knowing that at some point in my life I had made one would be a constant disappointment.

I would also like to point out that you're gay and dumb and this: "On the contrary, it has been confirmed by numerous users from many boards to be fairly accurate." is one of the sillier things I've read today.

um yeah well um is this thing on ahaha well goodbye now

>>3351379
nice. I like the angst and the whole holier than thou approach. Definitely makes the reader feel inferior to what must be your immense literary talent.

if only there was some way that my mother would shut the fuck up

>>3351381
>/tg/
>Height of quality
Their very subject matter damages their quality immeasurably.
Of course I suppose this post reinforces that we are cunts.

>>3351389
What you just said boils down to "I'm too good to draw pictures on MS paint, also you're an asshat". Being uselessly verbose about this won't add any quality to your already worthless post. Also, in case you were wondering, this chart's been posted on /q/ and unique IDs are assigned to IP adresses, making it possible to identify single users. Way to go, Mr. Dumbass.

Going to the store. Going to need some batteries. Don't know what they are for was just told to do it. I think they are for my girlfriend's vibrator. I did not know she had one, but I have been getting suspicious of her reactions during sex. Ever since we were caught by her parents she has had a hard time enjoying sex. About the only thing that will get her to loosen up is a whole bottle of wine. Having sex with a drunk person is not all that fun. One person does all the work and the other lays there like a hobo giving up on life.
I might have to buy her something nice from the store and surprise her. Something thoughtful and not too expensive or cheap. Cheap would be better as long as I put a little thought into it.

That was fun... and a little weird.

>>3351395
>Their very subject matter damages their quality immeasurably.
That's stupid and you know it.

everyone in this house bitches too damn much
even me
its just annoying

>>3351379
What people write is not necessarily how they feel. Literature tends to being introspective, brooding, and perhaps a bit depressing, so I think people's output here tends to reflect that more than them complaining. That's what /r9k/, /soc/, and /adv/ are for.

>>3351381
It's pretty accurate for this board, at least. It's one of the few 4chan boards actually worth going to (in terms of quality, I mean, not out of curiosity to see what sort of fetid filth is churning wildly inside) and we're all such lone wolf, backbiting cunts that I've been here daily for years and can't remember ever really saying to myself "this guy is cool, I'd like to know him."

>>3351393
complete retard

>>3351402
Fantasy reader detected.

>>3351396
You're just SO dumb. Arghhhhh it pains me.

>>3351408
>he thinks /tg/ has anything to do with fantasy lit

>>3351409
>you actually made that post
holy shit you could at least sage when you know your post are devoid of value

>>3351411
dumb

>>3351415
idiot or doesn't go to /tg/

>>3351411
try to keep up, bucko

>>3351414
>implying anything has value

just leave before you embarass yourself further

>>3351419
Whatever helps you sleep at night bro.

>>3351407
nice one

>>3351418
what

>>3351411
Ahhhhhh....nope? Guessing you're not too up-to-date on this whole "reading" thing

>>3351425
That was his point, dense friend.

>>3351425
>>3351395
>>3351402
>>3351408
>>3351409
>>3351407
>>3351415
>>3351417
>>3351418
>>3351419
>>3351420
>>3351422
>>3351423
>>3351425
>>3351427
guys could you please just stop
pls
stop sperging all over this board with your immature shit
thank you

>>3351420
hahahahaha

>>3351407
>being this mad

>>3351431
Good night.

>>3351427
dumb

you're all so dumb aghhhhhh what am i doing in this place

>>3351430
Please fuck off with your spam, we're having a discussion here

>>3351435
You're right - don't wait, leave now.

>>3351439

>>3351434

Not everyone greeted the end of the world with such muted enthusiasm. The chaos locked away beyond concrete, steel and timber, nothing more than the rumble of scared people too frightened to accept their fate, hoping to change it with gasoline and matches; the church was first to feed the fuel, offering only the salvation of soul and quiet prayer as the remaining minutes countdown. The whimpering crowd responded with shattered glass and insatiable immolation. The sense of helplessness scared them more than the missiles, causing retaliations of looting, riots and general bedlam, though they could not face their enemy, an unknown man, miles away, unwary of his consequences. The end of the world was not something people could have planned for but they tried none the less, encased in tombs filled with rations hoping to stave off the impact and radiation long enough for starvation or dehydration to take hold. Cans stacked high with nothing but pork and beans and other delectable staples only towered by the bottles of water. Gas masks hanging delicately by the hatch arguably a more lifesaving function for a coat rack.
But her heaving shudder of exhalation was louder than any doomsday. The room was cold but the bed was comfortable and the rustling of a 45 waiting patiently to be flipped over completed the atmosphere. Warmth radiated off her cheek as the candles flickered and ensconced the walls with their restrained glow. The moment was everything; neither said a word but shared the most intimate conversation, only a second had passed though they had spent their lifetime and as the silence deafened them, they stared, unconcerned of the quibbles of powerful men with petty issues, or what mega tonne payload loomed overhead, the moment was everything, enough so that they never heard the bombs drop.

anyone in this thread wanna exchange contact info :]

>>3351442

>>3351447

what is wearing pants like
are they tight are they warm
being myself isn't a very practical thing
midgets like having a bluegrass praties and they often find freedom in watching shitty TV show
I don't even know how I know that I've never in my life met one
it's like being on drugs but not high
except that's an oxymoron because the matress is very calm and splendid
articulation of words is important no one is going to do it for you otherwise
mutated worm inside my stomach grows hungry
maybe I'll eat an apple to make him thirsty
wonderful life it is, very wonderful, really

i like music that goes doof doof doof stop tapping your hand constantly when is lauren going to reply to my text i wonder whether katy thought about me today this lentil burger is going to be delicious im so lonely.

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

>>3351414
Not to jump in on this whole shit-flinging bonanza, but sage does literally nothing. You'd know that if you didn't join us in the summer of last year

>>3351456
I still laugh at how 4chan doesn't understand what sage means.

If only I knew moon so I wouldn't have to spend time on a board that imports foreign concepts and then DOES IT WRONG all the time.

Using sage as a way to "insult" someone's post or thread is just completely wrong and a retarded misuse of a good feature that is so popular in sites like 2ch and Futaba. Fuck, iichan and 4-ch do it right. It's just 4chan and 4chan's lame knockoffs that fail at using sage.

The true meaning of sage means that YOUR POST isn't worthy enough to bump the thread. It's ironic, because you think that you're insulting others while you're just, in fact, insulting yourself. Yes, sage can be used when posting a derogatory comment in a thread that you don't want to bump, but posting with just the word "sage" accomplishes nothing but contribute to spamming the board. The trend of replying with the name of a tripfag and sage is even worse, as it accomplishes nothing and only serves to increase the e-penis of whoever you're "attacking".

The sage feature was never meant to serve as an implied insult or general disagreement! Why people started using it that way is beyond me. There are plenty of reasons why one would choose not to bump a thread with his reply. For example, bumping threads with stupid one liner replies should be discouraged and those people should be coerced into using sage instead.

I want to use sage, yet I almost never do it on 4chan because people will jump on me thinking I'm insulting their post or something.

>>3351449
Come on dude, you can't even post relevant reaction images. Why are you even alive at this point? Do YOU even know? I fear there's been some horrible mistake.

>>3351454

Oh hey Robert Frost

yellow, red, magenta, Margret, blue
who are you, who art i?
bird, cat, sun, fat, shine, dime, dim, dream.
trees are falling in, and out, and inside, and outside, of you, and her, and them, and everyone.
oh god, he is honestly hydrated.
my father said, "he told me that you told her that i said i told you"
then the end was near. good bye, you, and two, and seventy four.

Why are you such a faggot sometimes I think you're not even listening to me I'm trying really hard to love you right now but sometimes you just make me feel so PTERODACTYL PTERODACTYL PTERODACTYL

You never fucking told me how to deal with this dad
You never told me what it meant not to be a kid anymore
Sometimes I can't deal with it.
But I'll be ok.
That's more than I can say about myself though.
I won't be ok. Neither will mom.
But that's not your fault.
Don't be sorry, you deserve better. I'm sorry I never was the kid you wanted.
I'm sorry I don't play baseball anymore.

to do won one is fun lum cum bum
i am slowly progressing throughout my bed and splinters will form under my calloused toenails with aliens outerspace is quite fun to be in with you me he she lee ski.
You are the one who can fix barn farm alarm pharmacy is quiet your mother fixed her diet.

>>3351459
dumb

you're all so dumb aghhhhhh what am i doing in this place

i wish i could play guitar, and stop playing play guitar

when we were young you were the king of carrot flowers and how anne frank built my tower than tumbled through the trees

You know, I'm envious of those people that can fall asleep as soon as their heads hit the pillow. I wish I was like that. Instead, it takes me at least an hour to fall asleep. I find myself thinking a lot during that hour: what my plans are for tomorrow, my family back home, etc. Sometimes I even think about what I would change if I could go back in time. I think about this topic a lot. I usually start somewhere in college, but I always seem to go back to high school and think about the things I would have done differently, friends I would have made, ones I would have abandoned, etc. Then I start thinking about all the bad things I've done in life and the people hurt.

Then, as if sensing my thoughts, my fiancee sleeping next to me would wake up, search for me in bed, hug me, kiss me, then fall back asleep. It's always at that moment where I forget about changing the past, because if I did, I would probably not be here, right now, with her.

>>3351480
Same as me, except for the fiancee.
>tfw no gf

>>3351484
all aboard!

>>3351381
>/mu/
>not closer to cesspool

>>3351460
Oh, I'm so thrilled you know me!

a cigarette sounds really nice right now. I could let the smoke fill my lungs like the air I need to breathe but only it'd sweeter more fulfilling. A cigarette makes me feel like I am doing something. [never smoked oh shit...]

>>3351498
I thought that was his huge cock.

This dialectical movement is what consciousness practices on itself as well as on its knowledge and its object, and, insofar as, to consciousness, the new, true object arises out of this movement, this dialectical movement is what is genuinely called experience. In this relation, there is a moment in the process which was just mentioned and which should be underscored even more dramatically. Indeed, doing so will cast a new light on the scientific aspects of the following exposition. Consciousness knows something, and this object is the essence, that is, the in-itself. However, the object is also the in-itself for consciousness. As a result, the ambiguity of this truth emerges. We see that consciousness now has two objects: One is the first in-itself, and the second is the being-for-it of this in-itself. The latter appears at first to be merely the reflection of consciousness into itself, that is, to be a representation not of an object but merely of its knowledge of that first object. Yet, as was previously shown, in its eyes, the first object is thereby altered; it ceases to be the in-itself and in its eyes becomes the in-itself merely for consciousness. However, what we thereby have is the truth, the being-for-it of this in- itself, which means that this is the essence, that is, its object. This new object contains the nullity of the first, and it is what experience has learned about it.

>>3351505
No, that would be him.

>>3351381
I'm okay with this.

>>3351473
haahhahahahhahaha so bad

>>3351526
hahahahaha

>>3351529

>>3351532
Come on dude, you can't even post relevant reaction images. Why are you even alive at this point? Do YOU even know? I fear there's been some horrible mistake.

*CALLING ALL ASTEROIDS* PLEASE COME TO THIS THREAD AT YOUR HIGHEST SPEED AT YOUR EARLIEST CONVENIENCE *CALLING ALL ASTEROIDS*

How fucking egotistical would it be to have a bird play violin in your sepia-tone cuban soap opera? Violence and riots would over throw the first world like a pancake made entirely out of hairless cats. rock the cashbah, rock the cashbah, rock the cashbah, death to the Canadian prime mininster. Our ears shall sing praises of our otherworldly accomplishments for generators to come.

Three clouds floated in, coolly. They had never been here before, but hardly anyone in the room could tell.

"How many?"

"Not sure, but keep calm and play your cards right."

"That doesn't help Steve. How fucking many?"

"Look, I have no idea. Throw out a number."

The third cloud remained silent.

"Hey, excuse me, uh, sir?"

An extravagantly dressed man walked over to them. His crisp suit sliced through the air as he walked, and he carried an ornate pen and notepad combination in his left hand. His moustache wobbled as he moved quickly towards them.

"Uhm, hello sir, we'd like twelve."

"...Twelve?" Said the waiter. He reached for his gun.

Whenever Dem looked out the window, he found himself craving craving death. For a moment, a gulf would open in his that, it seemed, could only be filled by the absence of things: the wonderful nothing that death promised.

Dem had only to return his gaze inward to se his folly. When window pane did not refract his thoughts in all directions so that they accumulated in dark corners like dust, Dem found himself a content and uncomplicated man. He was distinctly indistinct when he saw the world without a barrier of glass.

Sometimes, though, he thought that maybe the world in the window was the real world, stripped of its devious disguise. He was nothing. Everything was nothing. So said the window, Dem's portal into the truth. How could one truth be greater than another? This, Dem did not know.

And so, he continued on with his life, as he always had, and looked less and less out windows, and in a time a sort of happiness overtook him. Imagine that! Demitri Romanov was happy! Or he thought he was anyway. He did not know about the part of him that secretly longed to gaze out windows again.

loopy dloopy loodle orphan sex

orango pleeeoooyoop

dippapladdple

i have no more things in my face to have the sand belt

In wonderland I made castles and we, we girly ladies, ate them with cream on our faces.

I... I did it, OP.

I am a tattered shawl within the winds of the desert and then a skeleton popped out. There must be something in the water?

There is something appealing about the culture of body modification. The culture itself, not the modification. It seems like there's a breaking point for some people where the tattoo itself loses meaning, and the act of tattooing and piercing one's self to the point of only being recognizable by the mods you've undergone. I met a lady in walmart with her face entirely cover in a language that looked like ramen noodles. I meat a guy who had a steak on his foot, and when I asked him why, he said, "I just fucking love steaks". I wonder what jobs these people get.

I ate cat food once on a dare in 7th grade. It didn't taste liike tuna, it tasted like a 60/40 meat/dirt blend.

Ice cream soda, cherry on top how many boyfriend do you got?
my problems with this jump rope rhyme:
-errything.
-I did this daily in elementary school
-I was like 9 and a boy.

thanks OP that felt kind of gross ross oss ss ssssssnake.

but isnt this what we do in every thread?

has this joke been made here yet?

sender filing ins the last know frontier a nother lasting impression of the godless folk, eating all the homes and hearts of men for never did I see the little creatures running and dying at the base of the mountain. Oh god, deliver upon me the last word before the sky parts and death reigns down upon us.

So you lick your finger and cover it in piss and then you slowly slide it in. It feels like you have to poop so you push a little. Something touches your fingertips. This is what it must feel like to give birth. You can touch and feel your own faeces in your anus. It's wrinkly, hard but also beautiful. You push it back in a little. It's like a fight between your anus and your finger.
Your anus is winning. You can feel your anus stretch and you keep pushing until you can touch your faeces-baby in the real world. It's outside, breathing. You keep pushing and catch in your hands then you look at it. You kiss it and lick it.
It's the most intimate relationship imaginable. You created this. It doesn't taste like shit. It tastes like success.
You hold it in your hands and begin the metamorphosis.
It's easy to mold this into every shape you want to. It's not shit it's clay. While you transform it it transforms you into an artist.

What am I to do, I saw not where it came. My only hope now is to remain silent, brood, then rest.

>>3351641
No because it's a bad joke. Sorry, man.

Coffee, coffee.
- it makes you pee and poo!
Coffee, coffee,
- pee, pee, pee and poo!

Why would I, though?

>>3352040
Because OP's post doesn't even have a blue box. Doesn't that intimidate you?

Story and hell maddening fish tiger cigarette green face crumbs zipper khaki hands.

Thy are making me see, I do not want to see, they are almost forcing me, why are they doing it? I was perfectly happy not seeing.

There were better days in my life; days where the fragments of the roof where not falling down as it were on my face, on the sheets or on the dusty old polished wood from the second deck of this double bed. "What?" says Max, "you've never had a day when you never went out of the city?" Nope.

There were better days when I thought I could, if perhaps, I could just overstep the boundaries of my over-crippling depression, my stifling aversion from the morals of society and the judgment of community, maybe I could be a better person? Feel like I could be just like everyone? Feel like the hawking street market man, who knew Lilia, who knew Pasha, who knew Belinda and whoever that guy was who sold bread for any of the bystander willing to trade carbs with metal. They are the kind of people who are more attached to their tangible life, who have people to care for, children to caress and scold, parents to call and friends to greet or have fights with and afterwards share a cup of cold sherbet to make up. But they weren't me, but so I wished.

Days like these when I'm stuck at home, with an artificial contact as a means of replacement for real social life is the epitome of the second half of my current life.

"Maybe you should risk losing the internet?" Max suggested, flipping a tangerine lollipop stick of her mouth, letting it fly with a flippant 'pang' from her lips to the bin.

"I guess not," I said. And as I looked and fumbled, between me and the keyboard I knew there was no hope.

crumpling senseless zen an the tory goes say it then go for it you feline gopher or whatever your mom says tonight osthing i feel gave me a yellow van to drive and give you the package the one you have been awaiting i stand to hold it head titled and give you the pacakge oh what a fucking symbol right?

I should be studying now,
Instead I contribute to this,
Making up excuses,
Like having to take a piss.

The piss that smells like coffee,
As I sit on the toilet seat,
Reading my colorful comics,
My trousers at my feet.

That's right, I pee sitting down,
In case I have to shit,
I'm having a wonderful time,
Shitting and searching on /lit/.

>>3352172

haha FUCK
YOU TOO
FAG
BALLS!!
!!

TASTE SUMMA
MY "FR
EE VERSE!"
FANTASTICALLY REVOLTING
EXTRA ELONGATED
*THA-WHUMP*

COCKS!

You know you're procrastinating when you're surfing telescope websites and are wondering if it might've been nice to have that telescope, so you could watch the stars and the planets anytime you felt like it, for example right now, when you're writing a paper in examen philosophicum and you've got one day left before the deadline and you haven't even finished reading the stuff you're supposed to be writing about, but still think stars are hella nice, dude.

>>3352257
No. Light pollution disabled everyone outside of siberia to propperly look at the stars.

>>3352279
I run a wasteland coffe bar in Siberia.

>>3352279
I run a wasteland coffee bar in Siberia. Come visit me sometime.

Every time he looks at a pretty girl in the hallway, or when his neighbors send him love notes, or when he’s being served by a beautiful European waitress at a five-star hotel on fifth avenue in Naples - he thinks of me.
He thinks of me, messaging him on Skype, curled up on a couch while petting a dog, listening to “Sussudio” on my MP3 player and learning about marginal utility from a copy of Economics for Dummies which I had borrowed from the library hours before.

oh god oh god i cant take it yesterday i tried to drown myself to the sea i went iand into the sea foam i tried to hang myself in vapour but naught i could do oh god oh god for the love of god

>>3352292
> I run a wasteland coffee bar in Siberia.
Nobody drinks coffee in Siberia.
> inb4:
No, it's not alcohol either.

>>3352305
teenage girls pls go

It had always been quiet. Minimal and quiet because that's how I liked it. My personal sanctuary, orderly and free from clutter and chaos. She told me last week that she wanted to move in, just for a few nights a week at first – See how it goes. Okay, fine. I guess my one-bedroom, open-plan box is nicer than hers, so if that's what she wants then I'm happy to share my sanctuary with her. I'm a nice guy, and I think I love her.

First came Teddy McSnuggles. Yeah, I know. But she's had him since she was born. I guess I can handle Mcsnuggles in my bed if it makes her happy. It was when the things arrived that I started getting twitchy. Things to straighten hair, things to curl hair, potions and creams and boxes of colourful powders. I woke up one morning with an eyelash curler digging into my back, the sheets smeared with black eye paint. A childhood test told me it's called OCD. I have a compulsion for minimalism and order, everything in it's correct place and nothing unnecessary, this shit is turning my hair grey. Slowly my nice, quiet, orderly haven's became the testing centre for fucking Maybelline. I'm turning into a nervous wreck, but I love her, what can I say? Every time I try to put my foot down, she smiles at me with loving adoration.

I get up, wade through the mountains of shoe boxes and clothes to get to my bathroom. There was once a single cup with a toothbrush, toothpaste and razor. Now I have nail polish, and makeup, paints that go on the face, chemicals to remove the paint, bags of cotton wool, moisturisers, exfoliators–and this is just the stuff I can Identify. Last count there were 17 different kinds of conditioners lined up, armed around the bathtub and ready to assault my delicate nervous system. My left eye is permanently twitching.

I came home yesterday and she handed me a Allen key. I used to have a desk and a laptop, now I'm on my hands and knees assembling flat-pack furniture. This morning I caught her smuggling in a full length mirror.

I wither in denial as she lets me know that she's leaving.
She tells me that it's just wrong timing, that she needs time alone.
When that door shuts, the air stagnates, the scent of her tanned flesh hanging in the air, like a fruit ripe for the plucking.
Here I sit again, alone on my bed.
Maybe she'll change her mind.
Maybe she'll come back.
Maybe.

I'm watching the X-files and it's pretty great I'm on season 6 right now, coming back from three weeks without watching any x-files I'm lying it was actually only 1 week and in that 1 week I watched 1 and a half seasons of 'Revenge' which is some soap opera a girl I know (and by know, I mean 'want to have sex with') recommend to me. It's actually really really great, last night I masturbated to it because of the fact that I associate the program with memories of her.

It's a tough life

ich sollte das schreiben aufgeben, eben habe ich fünfzehn gedichte zusammengekratzt, die ich innerhalb der letzten zwei jahre geschrieben hatte, es waren schon die einzigen, die ich noch irgendwie mit drogenexzessen oder der tatsache, dass ich mir dabei keine mühe gegeben hatte, entschuldigen konnte, ich hätte es mir trotzdem nicht vor augen führen sollen. ich wünschte, das brett auf kc für literatur wäre so schnell wie dieses hier. ich mag niemanden, nein nein, weil mich auch niemand mag und das bild an der wand von gödel guckt mich immer blöde an und ich kann gar nicht mehr hinsehen. ich hoffe aufrichtig, dass hier im moment niemand online ist, der deutsch versteht. ich habe getrunken und werde noch mehr trinken und viele grüße an benjamin, falls er mal vom magickarten spielen loskommt und hier herumlungert, selbst magickarten spielen ist weniger verachtenswürdig als fucking 4chan bring mich bitte einer um und gib mir vorher kokain, ich hatte lange keine harten drogen mehr und auch nicht das geld für eine abhängigkeit, erst recht nicht die zeit, würde jemand mich im anschluss umbringen. er hat besuch für heute eingeladen, nicht einmal die vereinsamtesten zugezogenen wollen sich mit uns einlassen, ich kann das nachvollziehen und bin eigentlich ganz glücklich, dass ich heute in ruhe alleine saufen kann. nachher werde ich noch eine zigarre rauchen und zehn seiten tagebuch schreiben, weshalb das hier überflüssig ist, aber es versteht ja doch niemand und falls doch, macht das auch keinen unterschied, außer derjenige kommt und bringt mich um, was auch keinen unterschied machen würde, aber ich habe jetzt keine lust mehr zu jammern, ich werde einfach trinken.

>>3350915

gee whizz, let's see,
my penis, arse, and me,
were walking into to town
to buy a bee.

Have you ever wondered what it feels like to die?

John wondered what it was like to die as his blood slowly drained from him. His grasp of time slowed and his thoughts became heavy as he slowly slipped away from the only world he had ever know, he often thought that the world would turn black when he died but what he saw now was not black; it was purely the absence of black yet the familiar opposite to black was also missing. it was a light in the darkness and a shadow in the light all at once and yet not at all.

John never knew for sure if he had survived, his soul carries no memories to recall weather or not he had died and if so how it felt.

-LK

I'm lonely and I need someone to talk to.

shawty likes it rough
shes got sexual techniques
I wanna bust a nut

A sinking sun lingering in the distance.
Little talks of truth between teeth.
love, breaking backs from cruel fights and stones thrown.
Getting away is a terrible thing,
but staying is worse.

>>3352483
this is your chance to you.
i'm not going to listen but i'm sure someone else will because otherwise i'll kill them.

O red river, you run so sweetly
Through green pastures and tarried streets
I pray to the universe to ride you as a plane through the darkening skies
My mind wanders and I'm brought back to you
Altruistic beauty that I call mine own
O'er fallen soldiers, their memorials we weep beneath
Past such arid car parks once green and fertile
I still pray that you will return.

If I break
this sentence up
into short lines,
does that make it a poem?

In high school,
it certainly does.

And rickets struck the young Indonesian child as he watched his mother be tore to shreds by a pair of tigers. The child wept, clutching his mother's lifeless body. As the warmth drained from her body, similar to that of water exiting a plughole, the child grabbed a sharp rock adjacent to him; it was oval in shape and the around the size of his palm. With haste, the child lunges towards one of the two tigers, penetrating it's eye and enraging it...


All I got.

You guys are thinking too much

Let go, and be the blanket.

Arf is a declarative statement in dog speak whereas Bark is directed towards an individual. To learn the language of them you must first understand their culture. It is predominately centered around treats and squirrels.

>>3350915
It was a bird. He whom just arrived at the pizza parlour. I don't know why he was wearing clown suit or a suit at all. The owner of the pizza parlour and Mr. Smith stared at each other. Then the owner flew out on the window. The bird looked confused. He took a look in his reflection in the window and he found out he was a human. He wished that there would a painting exhibition about philosophers laughing at composers. Each philosopher at each composer. It would be a big exhibition. "Yeah, that would be nice." he thought.

>I've never written anything else in my life.

>>3353767
that's deep

in the past
i'd find myself
from time to time
clutching at straws,
breathless and panicked.
but not any more
no- now they are gone
i simply pick up my drink
and down it in one

in the past
i'd find myself
from time to time
clutching at straws,
breathless and panicked.
perhaps because i feared
that the shortest would be mine
but like i said
that was the past
and i do not suffer any more
the straws are all but gone
i simply pick up my drink
and down it in one, foul, gulp.

>>3353767
Tao Lin how's your novel coming along?

Man, I was looking out the window and there was the chick. Shit was crazy, bro. Like, you know when that guy set himself ablaze in protest to that shit that was going down in Tunisia or whatever? I felt like that guy, but I couldn't find him anywhere so I went home and cooked some sausages. Had them with Chicken burgers. Shit was sweet, dude.

>>3353865
post-post-modern ironic patrician writing, dude

>>3353870
Actually I lied. I had them with waffles. I thought chicken burgers would make a better story as it strengthened the anti-vegan angle of the plot.

I hear the alarms again.
Someone tried to escape.
I've thought about it, every single day of the past 6 years.
When will they learn that it's useless to even try.
Soon, I'll be out, have my GovCard again and restart my life.
The debt is almost paid.
The debt is almost paid....

I haven't been outside in weeks
but today there was a little pebble in my shoe
and yesterday
some dirt

>>3353883
>as it strengthened the anti-vegan angle of the plot.
Laughed Out Loud first, for a very long time.

Only one thing on TV, perhaps answers of a sort. Writing without thinking leads to ominous things, perhaps Snowberry knows. Snowberry always knows. But she must love Crow... how can one who does not think, love? That would imply that love required thought. But love is feeling. Is thought feeling? Perception? She does not know. If she knew, she could think and therefore love him. He can think and love and feel, but not as she cant. Or can. I cannot say which, but what of i? Can i? Am I thinking or feeling, or what even is?

A new religion; that is where I shall take it. There shall be a radical character who worships Mumeishi. She will be shocked. She wont want to offend. But she isnt even a person, and offence is feeling. Its thought. Its love. Love is not human then? What is human? Jane Goodall may know. Is Jane Goodall bullshit? Penn and Teller... they may know... everyone may know, I dont know. I may think. Maybe all the answers are in feeling. And imagining. Imagination is everything, not much else. Imagination is love. Its all a ruse, a beautiful ruse.

Oxyclean commercial.

It had always been quiet. Minimal and quiet because that's how I liked it. My personal sanctuary, orderly and free from clutter and chaos. She told me last week that she wanted to move in, just for a few nights a week at first – See how it goes. Okay, fine. I guess my one-bedroom, open-plan box is nicer than hers, so if that's what she wants then I'm happy to share my sanctuary with her. I'm a nice guy, and I think I love her.

First came Teddy McSnuggles. Yeah, I know. But she's had him since she was born. I guess I can handle Mcsnuggles in my bed if it makes her happy. It was when the things arrived that I started getting twitchy. Things to straighten hair, things to curl hair, potions and creams and boxes of colourful powders. I woke up one morning with an eyelash curler digging into my back, the sheets smeared with black eye paint. A childhood test told me it's called OCD. I have a compulsion for minimalism and order, everything in it's correct place and nothing unnecessary, this shit is turning my hair grey. Slowly my nice, quiet, orderly haven's became the testing centre for fucking Maybelline. I'm turning into a nervous wreck, but I love her, what can I say? Every time I try to put my foot down, she smiles at me with loving adoration.

I get up, wade through the mountains of shoe boxes and clothes to get to my bathroom. There was once a single cup with a toothbrush, toothpaste and razor. Now I have nail polish, and makeup, paints that go on the face, chemicals to remove the paint, bags of cotton wool, moisturisers, exfoliators–and this is just the stuff I can Identify. Last count there were 17 different kinds of conditioners lined up, armed around the bathtub and ready to assault my delicate nervous system. My left eye is permanently twitching.

I came home yesterday and she handed me a Allen key. I used to have a desk and a laptop, now I'm on my hands and knees assembling flat-pack furniture. This morning I caught her smuggling in a full length mirror.

Stepanov sent me a bouquet of flowers from the local florist. He does so every year. Once, he inquired the date of my anniversary. The first date that came to mind was November 7th, so that is what I said. Traditionally, I place the flowers in a glass vase deprived of water. Stepanov functions cyclically, where an appearance is made approximately every other week. Soon he will stop in, notice the suffocating begonias, and bequeath unto me his own floral recitation. I annually feign ignorance, then apologetically relay a personal anecdote where I've previously possessed only artificial flowers.

>>3353910
I accidentally read "pilot" instead of plot and it was even better.

>>3353883
ah I thought you were parodying the anti-vegan movement by using the sausages. good job in any case. best, most organic work here

fucking
god is in the walls
but so am i
and i dont really care anyway

so i guess what im saying is fuck you

>>3350915
Why did I eat that whole cup of dark cherry-flavored yogurt. It was so gross. It's probably better that I did right now, though, because i have a cold and cant taste half of what I'm eating. Otherwise it would have gone to waste.

It doesn't even taste like what dark cherries taste like. So much for no artificial flavoring.... Isn't it depressing how much we recognize artificial flavors for things that really has nothing to do with the origional one? Like strawberry candy. Or 'watermelon.' Watermelon barely even has a taste. And don't even get me started on 'grape' jolly ranchers or whatever.

The food industry is total shit.

>>3353928
Oh the fights I used to have over this even with my ex merely staying over. Women will insist on sprawling their shit and can't into austerity and minimalism.

Good luck bro. If it's autobiographical, that is.

what is this anyway?
i guess i'll just leave
what am i doing.
so what. leave me alone. go away

Today, slowly nodding my head and listening to Lady Gaga, I noticed a queer queer in front of me. Now you may think that all homosexuals look queer. But do they look queerer than most gays? I couldn't tell; it was enough to give me quite the rager though. I was so aroused that I started jerking off right in the middle of the street. It was only 90 seconds before I was noticed by the police. But me being the sexless fag I am, I was able to finish on the cop, right then and there. I unloaded with gallons and gallons of semen. Then as I was having intense spasms, I looked up to the moon, aimed my phallus at the sidewalk, and shot off into space. Now, every night astronomers, physicists, biologists, doctors, cashiers, custodians, and even pornstars, will look up at the night sky, and see my huge cock attached to my body, orbiting the very atmosphere of this home we call Earth.

It tasted of milk and coins.

>>3354415

upon further inspection this seems to be because it was, in fact, milk and coins.

note: further study to be had on the relation between taste, objects, and paedophilic memes.

Stephen Dedalus had always been curious. While standing around in the showers at school he would notice out of the corner of his eye the 4 inch long placcid members of some of his classmates. Judging by the growth of his own penis he had a good idea of the erect sizes of these penises, and was in truth, shocked and aroused.

One, Monday afternoonTaking it upon himself to sate his bicuriosity, he decided to make a bold move and use his low forearm to brush the scrotum and shaft on the boy adjacent to him in the showers. With a swift movement the boy hookd im rite in the gabber and with a face flushed red with embarrassment, ran out of the bathroom.

--My life is over, Stephen thought before daydreaming about the feeling of the boys sack for twenty-five minutes. His attention was brought back to reality when he felt a hand on his buttocks. Looking back he saw the friendly, familiar, face of the priest from the chapel next door. This was the beginning of a Summer Stephen would never forget.

Dakota Fanning was "idly" lying in the road dead after just getting hit by a 2011 Toyota Tacoma. Upon seeing "this", Haley Joe Osment rushed over and began removing her clothes and Victoria Secret panties. He took out his Guess leather wallet and removed the Trojan condom and placed it on "his" penis. "Sliding" it into Dakota Fannings vagina with the help of Astroglide lubricant, he "realized" that this was what his brother felt when he would do the same thing to Haley Joel Osment during the summer of 1996.

stirner looked at his wife and smiled

'honey i have something here for you'

'what is it'

'it is my penis'

'johann!'

'shall we sleep together?'

'not right now johann, i am busy'

'later then?'

'yes johann'

'aw fucking sweet'

max stirner sat at the table and waited

'honey, is it time?'

'not now johann'

max stirner was angered by this

'marie, you are a fucking bitch'

'fuck off'

'you fuck off'

this was the final straw, and marie left

max stirner wept

i have holes in my underwear. i can not afford new underwear. i have discovered underwear is quite expensive. one pair of underwear would take up 10% of my weekly income.

this not "fiction".

fuck im so smart im really the smartest person on this in this thread on this board in this country on this world!!!!!!!! why is everyone else so dumb dont they understand how smart and deep i am i bet they dont even read the classics

>>3352297
“Do you think I’m a loser?” I had curiously asked him once, days afterward, hoping to explain to him that he was my first and only friend, why his emotional connection to me was so significant, how he was the only ... He ignored me. He went offline for half an hour, told me was watching a movie called Sling Blade with a friend, asked me to watch the trailer. I tried to oblige, but realized that streaming quality was horrible for the phone when it was downstairs. Very low reception in that house, I realized.

>>3354513
tao lim pls

>>3354790

if i were tao lin i imagine i would have money for underwear.

as it is, i do not, so i must not be tao lin.

I can't go up to the what what chucky what.

>>3354794
He doesn't have money for underwear. He steals it. I'm pretty sure he even mentioned that in Richard Yates.

>>3354494
First wife: Edgar Bauer (1820–1886) would later record that Stirner had confessed that having once caught sight of his wife naked he had been unable to touch her again.

Second wife: Marie Dähnhardt, would claim that their marriage had been more of cohabitation than a legitimate love match.

Stirner confirmed to be too egoist to desire anyone but himself.

>>3355835

Marie Dähnhardt was pretty boss, she got drunk and smoked cigars with the posse at Hippel's and she apparently also went to the brothel with them...

It took three somersaults before Phoebe was able to climb inside of her vagina, inverting her body.

>>3355839
Yeah, she was a pretty cool guy then, but later she became a devout catholic and refused to speak to Stirner's biographer because she was 2spiritual4u and not earthly anymore and supposedly took a shitload of interesting information to the grave with her. The cunt.

>>3350915
something without thinking. Just write and don't think - short story, poem anything.

aaannd, go.

>>3355872
I dislike internet humor

>>3355911
You came to the wrong neighbourhood motherfucker

>>3355911
epic disapproval owl

/\..../|
{O,O}
/)___)
'''''''''''
disapproves of your post

Paper skin bleached white by computer's beams. Fragile pulp tearing under the stress of unremitting fluorescent running wrinkled lines into their faces.

You are getting this text not because you asked nicely for it, but because I have something to prove. Like many of the participants in this thread I shall post an ill-conceived rambling in the hope that somebody sees something in it. A 'diamond in the rough'. Something intrinsic that could be polished but never will be. Instead of attempting to master the fine craft of creative writing, I shall forever procrastinate and tell myself 'I could be good if I wanted' and leave it at that.

Anonymity shields me from any stinging wounds, as no mark will find its way onto my 'real-world' character. The only aspect of myself exposed to criticism of my poor work ethic is my concscious - which has already come to terms with the fact after many years of self-justifaction which no outsider could possibly tackle.

I received heavy praise in school for my writing skill. In particular from my History teacher, who loved to see what I would make of his assignments. What he admired most about my writing was my ability to be as concise as can be reasonably from a student of my age. A skill which can owe much of its development to my desire to do the bare minimum possible (which is true of most students, but I had the intelligence to make it work). That said, I did value the criticism of this teacher and so extra effort would go towards History essays and general class-work.

I am from a dysfunctional home which eventually collapsed into a broken home. This contributed to my own downfall but not in the way you would expect. This broken home broke me because it gave me an excuse to fail. In my early years this environment fed my ego: "People as smart as me shouldn't come from homes like this! My brothers/mother/father - all idiots! I am the special one!". There was no parental pressure one would aspect from middle-class parents or the aspirational working class with high hopes for their seemingly bright children. I did not fear examinations and I did not fear failure. Grades are slipping? So what? I can make up for it. I am the special one.

I could finish there and get on with my day. But that would leave you wondering "What happened to this asshole?

Can you guess?

The answer should be obvious. I failed on many counts. It was my crazy mothers fault, though. I promise. I'm currently living in poverty. Dreams of becoming a writer. This is the first piece of writing I've done in many months so you can guess how that will turn out.

Maybe failing was my fault.

>>3356021
>>3356022
10/10 you see beyond the veil of human ego with the alacrity of an experienced seer

mr freud, what is going on with my fucking libido?

I hate to say it, it seems you were rigth .. again.

When im walking im happy. i should walk more

the itch that can't be scratched
the plan that cant be hatched
the thought that's easily forgot
my floor needs a mop

I was doing so well.

Most people would call me weird from doing things such as preparing a bug out bag for a hypothetical collapse of civilization, or aim at becoming an astronaut. This saddens me. Not because people call me weird, but because those people have given up on their own quirks.

The cum-sloth reared, massive gouts of ejaculate spurting from its inhuman cock as it set upon the men of Westran. Bodies were rended under the bone-snapping assault of it's claws. "GET A SPEAR IN THE OBSCENITY!" grated Lord Barroter as his men fell.

spend too much time on nothing, just a downer. case case case

No, no no me llores
No me vayas a hacer llorar a mí

>>3356220
You crashed that iambus into a wall.

Blows in the night time worldly suffering at the top of the zenith. Curmudgeon creak and bordering the womans sighs. Pulsing, blowing, cutting up the straight lines around the family hatched pond.

The sky screams.

It's children are starving.
It wishes to see them grow up, get a car, get a job.

It will end it will end it will end

If I could see the interior of my colon and intestines I'd probably have a much less satisfying image of releasing farts and taking a huge dump after I've been constipated for a while. My reflexive mental imagery is this simple abstract model of a tube blocked by fairly solid objects but I bet it's more like a continually undulating murky morass of shit and farts. I bet the worst part of all is that the farts I think take up 7 inches of "empty" space in my colon, which feel so good to expel, which I work towards ejecting for hours and feel a tremendous sense of triumph and accomplishment when they are finally loosed, probably occupy very small discontiguous pockets of my intestinal tract.