Practice Prose

[Anonymous No.11008499]

I feel a sinking, a deepining hole in my gut, I feel as If I lost touch and have fallen into a rut. A mutt of american soup, my life was never clean, full of goopy unfulfilling things, with no tradition other than lordy creationism.

[Anonymous No.11008502]

It’s a typical day at the university. As the professor enters the classroom, several students fidget with their phones, dreading engagement with the difficult and technical subject material. Further into the lecture, a few of them ask questions about the mathematics being used. However, there is one question nobody asks— why is this class all men? Decades ago this would not have been surprising, but changing gender roles have led to a vast increase of women in both education and the workforce. College has an increasingly female face. Despite this, STEM remains mostly male. Has social progress simply not penetrated these areas of study, or is something else at play?

[Anonymous No.11008527]

>>11008502
based right winger

[Anonymous No.11008544]

>>11008502
Dry prose post it again

[Anonymous No.11008611]

Hello my dear, hello how do you do, strange I find my self here, from over there, I came over to you, over my fear.
I want to tell you, I want to be clear, that this is just a mirror and not a real thing. Oh hear, Oh how I have fallen slow, a gracefull tumble as a gentle wind who blows.

[Anonymous No.11008626]

James dashed. He had 6 tables, and they all ordered fast. Greet, hello, 5 waters, 4 burgers plain and salad with only romain.
He wrote his ticket, no slash on his t, and no dots for his I's. One called back over the crusade of other visitors, "No Ice in mine please!".

[Anonymous No.11008649]

>>11008499
Life is longer than I expected. On picturing myself reaching this age, as a younger man, I would have imagined myself to be either reaching the highest summits of the world or falling into its depths, defeated. But in victory or defeat my tale didn't end, and the god that writes my existence has grown complacent, dull and devoid of any talent or will to improve.

The fate I am to endure, thus, is even worse than the worst I had expected: to endure the long degenerative disease that is existence and watch everything I hold dear succumb to it. Most people find their way out by numbing their own mental states, so that they can gracefully pass into non-existence. I found that to be even worse; like sleeping for a thousand years only to see the world has moved without you on waking up.
No; that is even more horrifying than living, and what compels me to live. Should I die and be reborn again I would have to reach the same logical conclusions yet again, slowly falling into madness and despair.
The only means by which I could truly escape and feel free, happy and fulfilled was creation, but this merciless reality latches onto me and drags me back. This machine I call my body is broken, needy and it and hurts; this craft I call my society demands that I interact with others to survive and denies me the dignity of living or dying the way I want to, but it is still a better alternative than the ruthless forces and laws this universe has woven around the natural kingdom.

And so, here I remain, like many others. Unable to die, but unable to live, I find this to be an undeniable truth: we are trapped in hell and heaven never existed.

[Anonymous No.11008662]

The leaves, dry and brown by then, swirled as the wind blew into the alcove in which all of the students stood, who, having little else to do while they waited, watched them rise and whirl and rise and twirl until, when the wind died down, they floated slowly to the asphalt.

[Anonymous No.11008718]

a thing loved so preciously
to hold it in your hands, to caress it, is not enough
somehow, you want to squeeze it until it seeps into your body
until its essence is absorbed into your soul
to somehow devour it and make it one with yourself
but then
it would be lost, and you would be alone again
better to be able to see it in front of you
to touch it lightly, stroke its hair
and feel the warmth of its energy before you
this beautiful vision of my longing before me
the electric gap between these two bodies
never fully uniting, but in a joyous state of tension
the beauty of division
forget the philosophers and their abhorrence of duality
god is stasis, and humanity is his enthusiastic dream
of which we are the substantial reality

[Anonymous No.11008766]

My soul. My old folding thoughts, but I grow and grow with out a mold, shapely thoughts forming, me, with no meaning. No form except for being, a now current of processing meat. A place where screens are all I see. A place of freedom jarred by the eventual discovery of irrationality.