/Critique/

[Anonymous No.11628208]

Critique thread.
Post your works, critique others'.

[Anonymous No.11628321]

From the last thread
High noon. The Mississippi River to his back and only a name to follow: Jebidiah Bell

“Yeah, I’ve heard of him. Nasty old fool from what people tell me. You’ll be wanting to cross Tabbs Bay probably; it’s the route my papa and his papa always took to get to Sugar Land. The route to Houston beyond that is simple enough.”

The old timer swallowed his pipe and carried on his way as Warren Ford - the law man - began the search for a place to stay. Baytown was a small town on the edge of the San Jacinto River; it was as far as Warren had ever gone west before because he had never had a reason to carry on.

But now he had that reason. Bell was wanted in every state from Louisiana to Massachusetts for the crimes of murder, theft, forgery, grand larceny and conspiracy against the great state of America. This son of a bitch had gone and got himself a bounty of ten thousand and Ford was one of the few who had the means to collect. First order of business was a goods nights’ rest and the Cattle Cove seemed a good a place as any. Warren adjusted his badge so it was plain view of all and strode through the door. There was no one at the counter, so he flicked the bell and lit a cigar. Not long passed before his patience faltered and Ford was down the halls looking for authority.

Walking down the hall he bumped into a young boy; around the same age as his own son. His unkempt hair covered the slight smile across his face and the dirty clothes he had on looked out of place for this establishment. Ford put on a smile and got down onto his knee.

“Excuse me, son; I didn’t see you running down there. You wouldn’t know where the owner of this establishment would be, would ya?”

The boy didn’t have a response so Warren grabbed a paper from out of his pouch.

“You haven’t happened to see this man, have ya? He’s a bad man.”

He unrumpled the paper to reveal a crude drawing of Bell. The boy turned heel and took off down the hall before giving an answer.

“Excuse me, sir? Sorry for the wait.”

Warren raced back to the counter and grabbed some a few dollars from his pocket. He presented the money to the receptionist; brushing away her ginger hair to reveal a name tag: Delilah.

“No trouble at all, sweetie. Tell you what, Delilah. I’m expecting a visitor to meet me in the morning; could you do me a favor and come wake me up at six thirty?”

Her rosy checks lit up as she put the money away.

“No problem, sir.”

Walking to room seven he twirled the ring on his finger round and round until it slipped; it was as if it were gnawing at his flesh every time a guilty though entered his head.

“It’s not breaking a vow to think about it, alright?”

He threw it over behind the dresser hopping to forget about it yet as he drifted off to sleep his eyes were fixated on the spot.

[Anonymous No.11628333]

This is a poem I wrote for my gf. I want to work with a teacher of mine, and post poems similar to this throughout the next semester, on this announcement board. I know it's probably not good, but I'd like some feedback.

To describe your beauty would take one of many part
Outside you shine like diamonds, inside is gold as your heart

I can talk about your hair, and all its furls
How it's the perfect color amber, fresh, with curls
Or maybe your big forehead, down to your tiny feet
I think you're perfect, I melt every time we meet

I think about times walking under the Brooklyn Bridge
and how many times we traveled along the Hudson's Ridge
I'm just so happy you're mine, I love that it's you
And the fact you're my best friend, makes this love all too true.

[Anonymous No.11629059]

>>11628208
What are your thoughts on Varg? I disagree with him on a few things but in general I think he pretty much has the right idea on the big issues. Overall I think he's a good guy.

[Anonymous No.11629068]

>>11628333
full body cringe

[Anonymous No.11629071]

>>11629059
He’s an intelligent man and is certainly interesting, but his constant anti-Christian views are very frustrating. He blames Christianity for the failure of the West, yet I would argue that the cause is the lack of.

His music is amazing, I’d have to say.

[Anonymous No.11629080]

>>11628208
Entered this into the mypublishingdesu contest

Today's Fame

Martin -Marty, Mart, Whatever- White walked into the restroom with a whipped up sense of mirth and wit. A brief reprieve in the restroom during a party is often necessary for an introvert. It was a wonderful night, but no exception to the rule.
Martin was a smash hit tonight, though. The guests had told him so.
The mirror lay ahead, and with an ironic bravado Mart swaggered over to it to admire his own grin. He fashioned his smiling face into a handsome droop to evaluate exactly how he looked. Accolades had been lavished on him from most everyone since he had arrived to the party with Manny Ensenada, an old friend who was now making quite a name in the film industry. Martin liked to replay their admirations in his mind, imagining the lovely hometown girl August Oate's voice. He anticipated going back out there to mingle with her more, and hoped she'd keep dolloping on praise, her coquetry sweeter than cream, insincere in her approach.
What he really loved to do had paid off some, his own acting had gotten him far enough, but now that he was flaunting his with connections to Manny he had risen in standing, making the narrow climb to fame's gilded cage.

"This is the nicest damn bathroom I've been inside." He whispered "These people must shit with more style than Ethiopian royalty."
Imagining he owned the place, Martin stared provincially back at himself in the mirror, then was startled by a knocking at the door.

"Anyone in there!" A voice, female, probably attractive- definitely drunk, yelled more than it asked from outside.
Martin hesitated, and prepared to relinquish the room with a return to the gaiety of the party. Martin zoned out for a moment, collecting himself as the vodka kept buzzing.

"I saaaid, is annnyone in there?" The girl outside repeated, actually asking now. Martin hesitated again

"Uhh. No." He said, reaching for the door.
Suddenly he jumped back as the door swung open, nearly kicked clean off the hinges right at him.

"Look.... friend." An angry man seethed. Martin was expecting a girl, a pretty one at that, and this Hollywood executive met neither criteria.
"My girl here has been waiting a while." Again Martin hesitated, waiting to be recognized.
"So get out!"
(cont.)

[Anonymous No.11629083]

>>11629080
Martin surrendered the bathroom to them and went off in search of Manny. He passed a group of adolescent boys standing with producers in the hall (a regrettable facet of this kind of fame) and at last found his old friend abnormally alone on a terrace.

"You talked to August yet?" Marty asked.

"Saw her here." Manny said

"You know..." Martin hesitated, but persisted in his civic duty "she's probably only talking to you because you're rich and famous now."
A short pause.
"Which is coincidentally the only reason I'm talking to you now." he added sarcastically, the smirk on his face erasing tension.

"Oh cut it out" Manny laughed "I'm afraid you might be right, but how can I just cut her off?"
Quiet again.

"Simple." Marty said " You go Hollywood. Like me. If you're comfortable screwing the people who loved and supported you, think how easy it'll be to screw her when she's done none of that."

"Oh I'll screw her alright." Manny quipped

"See, now you're talking! Just make sure she doesn't get one dime."
They exchanged a nod, then Manny's face turned sad again.

"Honestly Marty, I'm not sure how I can still bear her." He said.

"Well women are made to bear-" Martin replied "and so is she."

[Anonymous No.11629115]

>>11629071
Yes I agree with you to a point although the Roman Catholic church as well as many Protestant churches are guilty of some very evil things and Varg is right to point this out. But that doesn't mean that Christ's teachings are wrong. The problem is Satanism in the Catholic church and Jewish Zionist propaganda being prevalent in many American evangelical churches. It's a very sad situation.
At any rate, Varg is certainly an amazing musician regardless of your political views. I love both his black metal and his ambient music. He's a very talented guy.

[Anonymous No.11629128]

>>11628333
i mean... its sweet and cute but like really cheesy bro. cool though maybe get some tang from it.

[hangfag No.11630218]

I steal bodies from the Hangman's tree. Jewels, rings, and coins, that the hangmen forget to shake out the victim's pockets I happily collect too, but it’s the bodies that pay the best. Men and women can reach almost two hundred Liros per corpse. Children even more. Although it was a long time before I broke that taboo.
Each night I move in time with the suns setting. The mountains cast long shadows over the village which conceal me like a grey blanket as I creep up the hill. Towards to the colossus draped in rope which fills the sleeping villagers with nightmares. On my belt dangles a sharpened knife and a sack hides my face.
The guardsmen don’t like the tree any more than the villagers. They always stand far from it, their backs to the faces that swing on the branches. Cursing the fact they drew the night shift. Eventually, after watching the silent village for a few hours they fall asleep, propped up on their rifles and murmuring uneasily. Others simply decide that the night has grown too cold and abandon their post. It’s not as if their officers have any desire to inspect them. When there is no-one left but the tree, I strike. Having sat in the unruly brambles I’ll have long set my eyes on a particular loot. There’s always fresh meat on the tree after all.
I think of myself as a spook when I work. Soft leather boots soundless against the wet leaf ground. My breath barely escaping my lips. With hands wrapped by gloves, I grasp onto the rough twine rope and with a glint of silver cut down the body. My first night, when I learning from Frillo before he too found a place on the tree, I almost cried when the weight of the person fell on me. Stiff and cold, surrounded by the aura of death that I soon grew familiar with. The reek of sour earth and dirt. By now I am as comfortable as a hunter with venison or a fisherman with fish.
Pulling the body away from the village and deep into the valley I meet my buyers before the sunsets. They hide their faces too and once the money is in my hands I depart swiftly. Who and why are questions better left unasked.

[Anonymous No.11630499]

Birds flying over a polynesian island
A thousand colonies muttered
None to be found
Now only thoughts can be scattered

There is no guidebook back to land
A thousand pink posies
Better beauty as a guide
Than to give abandonment grace

Despair is not a word to be communicated
When there are no words to be heard
All they do is overturn
My precious flower pot

They confuse and deceive, even if I’ve been
If my head and my heart aches
Are they not the same in one?

Where did my need for academic love come from
The demiurge of britannia?
Oh how I long for you so, but your yoke no more no

-

do i just need to actually go to school to learn how literature and poetry works?
or am i a born failure

[Anonymous No.11630559]

I felt the pressure change in my ear and the world turned to dark, I gasped for air but it felt like there was none. I gasped again and reached for my throat but then suddenly realised I had lost control of my hands and legs. It was an abyss and I had this unmistakeable feeling I was somewhere else and I could still feel that thing if it was a thing to my left somewhere behind me. I turned around and there it was, half apparition half face, like a wolf ‘s head sinister and crooked smiling off towards the bushes, made of those greyish smoky tendrils.

Excerpt from a short story, what do you think?

[Anonymous No.11631350]

>>11630559
I felt the pressure change in my ear, and the world turned to dark. I gasped for air but it felt there was none. I gasped again and reached for my throat but then realised I had lost control of my arms. It was an abyss, and I had this unmistakable feeling I was somewhere else and I could still feel that thing—if it was a thing—to my left somewhere behind me. I turned around and there it was: half apparition, half face, like a wolf head, sinister and crooked, smiling off towards the bushes, made of those grey, smoky tendrils.

[Anonymous No.11631659]

>>11628208
So I walk in this fucking bar, right?
I mean, this place is a bonafide, pure-t shithole. Place looked like it was about to be condemned and for good fuckin reason. So I walk in and this fucking guy, had to have been like 60 and probably homeless, starts flappin his fucking guns at me about how, get this, I'm not shitting you right now, he starts going off about how I'm a God damned space alien.
Fuckin weird, right?
Anyway, I knocked the old fucker out cold and got my dick sucked by this cute girl, flat chest but still fuckin hot, who for some reason wouldn't take off her panties. You might not like what you see, she says.
Whatever, got my rocks off anyway, right?
Fuckin city, man.

[Anonymous No.11631812]

Forsooth are forsaken the besmirched members of the merry OPERA-TUNE-ISTS, lilting in song the sounds of their sorrow. Oh how enraptured my soul stands amid the Canterbury tail wagging away in my mind’s I. ’Tis nobler to suffer? I posit not! For the wilder the wildfire blazes, the calmer the seas of tears swell against the day of unreckoned grief. Whilst the puss I may slam on the most regular of the reg; the puss in turn slams me, pushing invariably my woe back against the tide of its unremitting deluge of desire unforetold. Rack city bitch, rack rack city bitch, dost these tens, tens, twenties truly titillate the titties of this silly bitch? Nary, the resounding answer plumes out from the violently lactating volcano of eternally maternal granite and grandness. Gaia sighs a sweet goodbye, and we her children die in the birth of a new age, to be determined by kismet’s quiet hand swirling the brewing cauldron of time into its proper shape of cosmic infinity.

[Anonymous No.11632529]

this poem is about reincarnating as a sexy cowgirl

https://youtu.be/TURQ3L3kGBs

[Anonymous No.11633215]

sunday, august 16, 1992

my name is rodney amarillo
now its nezbo maudauphin
my name is everybody’s mother
with the corduroy cushion

i had a subatomic daydream
and this one you were in
you told me that you were a cat person
but you never much liked them

like how i dont much like breathing
or those new country stations
and then outside your house
i said could i come in
and you said in your dreams

[Anonymous No.11633232]

sunday, august 16, 1992

my name is rodney amarillo
now its nezbo maudauphin
my name is everybody’s mother
with the corduroy cushion

i had a subatomic daydream
and this one you were in
you told me that you were a cat person
but you never much liked them

like how i dont much like breathing
or those new country stations
but when i said we’d make a couple
you told me in your dreams

[Anonymous No.11633265]

>>11628333
you're right it's fucking terrible. start asking why you yourself think it's bad. the stale language and images, hair body feet etc curl, whatever, it's not something specific. honestly i can't type it all out for you what is bad about it. also think about why you feel like it should rhyme. the rhymes are also really forced. there is nothing special about this. i couldn't give less a shit about this girl after reading this poem. sorry anon to be so harsh, you asked for it, it's honest feedback.

[Anonymous No.11633279]

>>11632529

Make another poem like Plebs

[Anonymous No.11633325]

>>11628333
I like it anon. Cheesy as hell, but sincere

[Anonymous No.11633951]

A gentle turn at a little smoke,
Not too erring while hearing the trees croak,
I'm carrying myself lightly on the breeze,
Before the fire comes the disease.

[Anonymous No.11633953]

i fucked your mom
fired my hot cum
like an arrow
from a bow released
between her hippo thighs
the frogs lips
into the bullhole
and fertilized her dryland
where there is rock and no water
and out of this stony rubbish
son of man
my disease takes root

i am your father now
your new father
and i will belt you if i like
faggot

[Anonymous No.11633988]

>>11633953
If you remove faggot at the end it would be acceptable and not so clearly 4chan angst.

[Anonymous No.11634021]

2pm: i wake but i stay under blankee

230pm: i get up

245pm: i brush teeth

3pm: i go for run but only make 1 halfway before walk

330pm: i drink water

4pm: i take shower

5pm: i go on computer

7pm: i eat

730pm: i go on computer

12am: i eat

1230am: i go on computer

2am: i bored

3am: i sad

4am: i watch bob ross video

430am: i sleep

[Anonymous No.11634073]

>>11633988
my poem has nothing to do with 4echan

[Anonymous No.11634594]

>>11628333
cringe and bluepilled

[Anonymous No.11634609]

>>11630218
I enjoyed this.

[Anonymous No.11634774]

>>11633279
alright, any requests on topic?

[Anonymous No.11634802]

Literally on the spectrum, no meme. Can someone give me hint as to how I would unfuck this sentence?
"Finally, the system of education itself, the working-class school, educates in a manner that fails to prepare its students for higher education, via methods that emphasize rote memorization and obedience over analytical discussion and autonomy." I'm trying, but I'm back in college after 8 years of janitorial, and I'm ignorant.

[Anonymous No.11634808]

>>11634802
I’m literally retarded but I don’t see anything wrong with that sentence

[Anonymous No.11634812]

>>11628208

Rejected entry to the /lit/ short fiction contest: Dragon Corporation presents: The Dragonsphere: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1Od7d-ts2_KcOYWVeSNDoSKp0eZlzfcmIJhFQnWUuSiE/edit?usp=sharing

>>11634802

Finally, the system of education itself, which can be understood best as school for the working class, fails to prepare its students for higher education. It emphasizes rote memorization and a "hidden curriculum" (IE, obedience training) over analytical and life skills.

[Anonymous No.11634829]

>>11634812
wtf is this gay shit

[Anonymous No.11634839]

>>11634812
>Finally, the system of education itself, which can be understood best as school for the working class, fails to prepare its students for higher education. It emphasizes rote memorization and a "hidden curriculum" (IE, obedience training) over analytical and life skills.
That reads much better, thanks for helping me understand. I don't think I can directly reference "hidden curriculum" because my main source titled their work with it, but I'm going to try splitting up the sentence like you did.

As an aside, is it that obvious that I'm specifically working from Anyon?

[Anonymous No.11634840]

>>11634829
New new schizo-sincerity

[Anonymous No.11634847]

>>11634839
If you cite your sources it shouldn't a problem. Especially since "hidden curriculum" is a totally ubiquitous phrase these days. No, it's not obvious that you're working specifically from anyone.

[Anonymous No.11634851]

“Hey.” A whisper Jamie opted to ignore.

“Hey!” A slightly louder whisper and a finger tapping him several times on the shoulder followed.

He slowly turned over to find the Princess looking at him intently. “What?”

“It’s bloody freezing in here. Is there no form of temperature control in this place?” Caitlin said.

“What do you suppose I should do?” Jamie asked. “Force a pair of dwarves to upend-”

“No, no, that’s not what I meant, don’t be obtuse, just...” Eye contact was lost. “If you tell anyone about this, I will have you executed at dawn for the whole Kingdom to see.”

Jamie smirked. “And what did you have in mind?”

Caitlin Faraday looked as if she had been informed she was to shortly undergo anesthetic free teeth removal in the middle of a busking competition.

“I suppose it wouldn’t be so awful if you...put your arms around me. So we could huddle up for warmth. And nothing else.”

The smirk blossomed into an ear-to-ear smile. “For you, my Princess? Anything.”

The Princess scooted over, so Jamie put one arm around her shoulder and the other around the back of her neck. He felt more than a bit apprehensive about holding her, let alone touching her, especially considering Caitlin was extremely warm and had a curiously Earthly smell to her. Not like dirt or something repulsive, but the intensely familiar smell of blossoming flowers and the serenity of nature. Jamie’s chest tightened and he wondered if she could feel his heart thumpathumpathumpa.

“I’m not made of glass, Christiansen.”

He looked down at her. “Is everything alright?”

She rolled her eyes. “I give you permission to actually hold on to me, not what you’re doing right now, whatever it is.”

Caitlin had a point; his fingers were barely touching her frame, as if the slightest misstep on his part would shatter her. To try and remedy her discomfort, he more fully wrapped one arm around her neck and another around her waist, delicately pulling her closer to him.

“Is this better?” He asked, his voice not being nearly as steady as he hoped.

“Better.”

His honor would never allow him to indulge his true desires, but he was happy enough with their current standing. It was a strange thought, but he couldn’t deny there was something exceptionally endearing about having the ferocious, tough-as-steel warrior princess cuddled up next to him in her evening wear. One didn’t need precognitive abilities to determine that she preferred to keep people at arm’s length, so he considered this something of a milestone to have reached this side of her. Sure, she dispensed insults like they were linked to some sort of plague, but he got the sense she enjoyed his company far more than she would ever willingly admit.

“If you don’t mind my asking, Princess,” Jamie said. “Did you dye your hair?”

No response beyond her breathing. He let his head rest on top of hers, and he was asleep.

[Anonymous No.11634922]

this is a work in progress, but tell me what I need to improve on.
I plan on submitting this to Nifty:
8 o’clock PM.
I’m staring at the worn white painted door of my neighbor, the patio which wraps around their house is consumed by the shadows of the impending night. A lone sconce beside the door combats the darkness flooding the porch with it’s warmth and light. I look down and fidgeted with my hands; my head swarming with all sorts of ideas and scenarios. It was my first time ever having to babysit. I figured that it couldn’t be too difficult, seeing as I often looked after my little sister. The biggest problem I had was WHO I was going to be watching tonight: Little Scott Humphrey. I had seen him around the neighborhood more than enough times but I kept my distance from him. I would try not to stare at him because if I did I would start to feel a forbidden lust; I would think about combing my hand through his golden brown hair, and holding him next to me, the feel of his soft skin.

[Anonymous No.11634937]

October 5, 11:46pm. I'm looking at the coat hanger on the other side of my cluttered apartment through the door frame of my bedroom. It's the same coat hanger that has sat in the same spot for the past 6 months, but I can't bring myself to look elsewhere because i'm almost certain the hanger is really someone out to get me, although he makes no progress no matter how long I watch, and I can't entirely make out who this person is. Of course I could leave this puddle of sweat I cower in and get up to close the door, but i'm not sure if I remember how to move quickly enough that I could do it before he closes in on me.
From what i’ve heard this is just the beginning of grueling withdrawal process. But the cold sweats, the vomiting, the delerium, anything and everything that makes me seem closer and closer to death has been, occurring for a week or so. To make shit worse I've landed a job at a local walmart, and while it sounds like peachy news to the rehab organization, I have never once looked forward to doing hours menial work in that soul-sucking incandescent lit warehouse.
I'm supposed to be grateful for the opportunity i've been given, and although I know I can never admit it, i'm fuckign bitter. I hate this shitty apartment i've been given, I hate the shitty job I have, I hate this town and all it's senile judging eyes. In all honesty I could have continued to live the life I had just fine, sure my addiction might have chipped a few years off my life, but life was never a contest of who could live the longest. It's nobody's business to decide how I want to live, or how I want to die for that matter, so it's definitely nobody's business to put me in a rehab process “for my own betterment”. I'm not some goddamn junkie on the streets begging for a couple dollars just to shoot up in the Walmart bathrooms. If anything dragging me away from the stuff making things worse, because now I have to spend a few weeks shaking in sweat soaked briefs while I try chase around thoughts thoughts that don't serve any purpose than it's own pursuit. It's counterintuitive to whatever grand plan my has sister has planned for me.
Just a few weeks ago I was lead to this town. I took a taxi driven by a silent dark skinned man whose car smelled of cold air and kleenex wipes. I left nothing behind in lausanne, mostly because there wasn't much to leave behind that would eventually be pawned. The driver wasn't as surprised as I thought he would be when I handed him the wad of cash given to me to cover the fee of the ride, instead, he took it with a blank stare directed to the street ahead of where we stopped.
The first day I stayed in the Hotel du Chamois while I waited for my bed to be shipped to my new apartment. In the evening I took some leisure time in the lobby before walking to a nearby restaurant. Although I was embarrassed by the bags under my eyes and my clammy pale skin I felt i had to prepare myself to make the journey, mentally if not physically.

[Anonymous No.11635117]

>>11634840
>genre fiction
not even once

[Anonymous No.11635141]

>>11628208

Ooooh, you have quite the throaty voice! Have I accidentally dialed the wrong number? I was lulled into a state of sexual arousal by such a simple statement, spoken so delicately. "I'm not one of the regular staff members" - I could tell, I would have recalled such a [sultry] voice had I heard it. -"one moment please" - take all the time you need, listenening to each inhale and exhale my members becomes more swollen. Gorging with blood, in a still predominately flacid state of erection, beckoning to be gripped! To be anxiously jerked into a state of instanteous extasy. While my balls have drained and my cock shrivels back into it's flaccid state. The sweet relief of realse permeating my entire being for a flicker of a few moments. -"no sorry we don't have it" -"all is well, take care and thank you." I haven't came that hard in awhile.

[Anonymous No.11635226]

>>11635141
someone, anyone? I need all the criticism I can get

[Anonymous No.11635296]

gatsby essay, feel free to cringe

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1IRZDWcRnGeLAL-rCjUaZtXCwm8MnOnOkvHCPv86LPA0/edit?usp=sharing

[Anonymous No.11635298]

>>11635226
its gay

[Anonymous No.11635308]

I'm the young city bandit, hold myself down single-handed
For murder raps, I kick my thoughts alone, get remanded
Born alone, die alone, no crew to keep my crown or throne
I'm deep by sound alone, caved inside, 1,000 miles from home
I need a new nigga for this black cloud to follow
‘Cause while it's over me it's too dark to see tomorrow
Tryin' to maintain, I flip, fill the clip to the tip
Picturin' my peeps not eatin' can make my heartbeat skip
And I'm amped up, they locked the champ up
Even my brain's in handcuffs
Headed for Indiana, stabbin' women like the Phantom
The crew is lampin', Big Willie style
Check the chip-toothed smile, plus I profile wild
Stash loot in fly clothes, burnin' dollars to light my stoge
Walk the blocks with a bop, checkin' dames
Plus the games people play bust the problems of the world today

[Chorus: Pete Rock + Nas]
(It's yours)
It's mine, it's mine, it's mine—whose world is this?
The world is yours, the world is yours
It's mine, it's mine, it's mine—whose world is this?
(It's yours)
The world is yours, the world is yours
It's mine, it's mine, it's mine—whose world is this?
(It's yours)
Yeah, the world is yours, the world is yours
It's mine, it's mine, it's mine—whose world is this?
(It's yours)

[Outro: Nas]
Yeah, a'ight?
To everybody in Queens, the foundation (It's yours!)
The world is yours
To everybody uptown, yo, the world is yours (It's yours!)
The world is yours
To everybody in Brooklyn
Y'all know the world is yours (It's yours!)
The world is yours
Everybody in Mount Vernon, the world is yours (It's yours!)
Long Island, the world is yours (It's yours!)
Staten Island, yeah, the world is yours (It's yours!)
South Bronx, the world is yours (It's yours!)
Aight

[Anonymous No.11635425]

>>11635298
can you expand on that?

[Anonymous No.11635440]

>>11635425
no

[Anonymous No.11635512]

>>11635440
alright, opinion discarded

[Anonymous No.11636874]

>>11635512
you're gay

[Anonymous No.11636908]

>>11628333
wretched rhymes, no meter to speak of and riddled with cliches. Burn it.

>>11630218
Not badly written, but considering the provocative subject matter, I wasn't made to feel particularly uncomfortable. You might squeeze more horror out of it.

>>11631659
If you are sincere, I have to say that I loathe this chummy, informal first-person style. It takes a lot of work to make it workable. Don't think that it's an easy way out just because it seems casual on the page when other authors do it. This voice you have here is veering particularly on the side of irritating.

>>11632529
There's something here

>>11633951
I like this, but some specific pointers
> "erring while hearing" is a little ugly
> I'd suggest a caesura on the last line; use a comma between "fire" and "comes"


Here is mine
https://softcartel.com/2018/08/16/morus-by-william-guppy/

[Anonymous No.11636962]

>>11636908
>Here is mine
>https://softcartel.com/2018/08/16/morus-by-william-guppy/
>he thinks someone is going to read all that
anon, i...

[Anonymous No.11637230]

guys sometimes when my grandmother leaves the house i rummage through her panty drawer and pull out the most stained pair i can find (there are lots) and put them on our house cat Earl Wilford and then I play George Michael's Careless Whisper on our cassette player on repeat and masturbate vigorously to the sight of Earl Wilford trying to take my granny's panties off and then finally I cum in his litterbox and tell my grandmother that i think Earl Wilford is sick because he keeps pissing out this thick white phlegm so we then have to take him to the vet who constantly gets confused as to what Earl Wilford has and always asks for a sample but then I say Earl Wilford ate it so I can't bring him a sample because really i just like to go there to flirt with the veterinary assistant Cheryl who's about 40 while constantly making jokes about how sick my grandma's pussy is and why this white stuff keeps coming out of it I think i'm gonna ask her out on monday

[Anonymous No.11637411]

>>11637230
but does Earl Wilford actually eat your cum?

[Anonymous No.11637509]

>>11630499
Try to drop out as many unnecessary epithets you could, that don't change the meaning.
I like the poem, but it is weird. Some verses can be left out. Some rhymes are wobbly. You have too much of an uncertain meter. I like the brain and heart, are they not the same... verse
Work on it more and it could be good. WhatI don't like is use of too specific words that don't fit. You're writing flowers and birds? Good. Don't metion the demiurge or Britannia etc.
4/10

[Anonymous No.11637515]

>>11636962
It's a good story

[Anonymous No.11637821]

>>11636874
awe sweetie, trying to hurt a strangers feelings and spread your misery around? Have fun being a loser :)

[Anonymous No.11637916]

I need to hear some perspectives on starting vs planning writing.
Since I have had the time this summer, I have been thinking of and "developing" an idea that came to me during a class in the Spring. Truthfully, the idea has developed and become more whole... but I have very little actual prose to show for the time I've spent thinking about the story. Sometimes I feel like it is smart to plan things, figure out what this story is about and what elements should be present, but sometimes I think I should just be writing.
The problem is, I get this feeling when I think of writing that tells me things are not bridged yet, my ideas are still floating and need to be connected. So I feel like planning is still practical, as it has been, but I also feel like I should get to writing prose soon.

I haven't planned a story like this before. They usually just come out of me like vomit. But I am curious to pursue something that doesn't come so instinctively to me, and I'm feeling uncertain about my methods I guess.

[Anonymous No.11637971]

>>11636908
would you have the time to over look mine?
>>11635141

I dislike my writing but can't quite pinpoint why, so any insight would be deeply appreciated

[Anonymous No.11638031]

>>11637971
>tell ME why I hate my own writing
fucking insecure as hell, jesus

[Anonymous No.11638080]

do sonnets have a syllable structure?
I am trying ot make it iambic but this is hard

[Anonymous No.11638117]

Purpose by twilight rusts, rusts red and sad,
People made ether voids collapse in the sky;
Sublimity walks within them to clad
The world in bliss, yet they are led awry.
Here others scream, they yell and stream like fiends
And make all decisions except your own.
Hither, thither, gaunt faces bide gaunt means
To stop advance, to release a dread moan:
"Oh stayyy, oh stayyy, your fate is tooo obeyyy."
"Not me," you say, "today I plan to go."
Forevermore you go, you go perfect astray
While the midnight sun sings in true legato:
"I know not what happened, but still I claim,
I have children who too deserve their name."

[Anonymous No.11638148]

>>11638080
Yes, in English they are generally in iambic pentameter

[Anonymous No.11638350]

Wrote this in an hour in a half at the liberry.
I dont write much or read much but I enjoy it.
I am very new at this,

Voice from Above

Divine torment sent from above
Radiant darkness, pillar of death
Space in the sky, smothered with doves
Babble slobber destroyed one last breath

Schizo type of hell
Nightmares engulf my frail mindscape
Shattered voices vex this mental cell
12 gauge facelift only escape

Begging for conclusion
Astral demons control existence
Violent actions the solution
Bodies decay rotten stench

Fingers on the trigger
Shotgun silence voices no longer linger

[Anonymous No.11638581]

>>11638031
I don't hate my writing. There;s something I dislike about the prose but I can't place my finger on it. calm down.

[Anonymous No.11639079]

>>11637916
Planning a story is very beneficial if you have the ability to word vomit. It's like creating a map that guides your prose from beat to beat while leaving space for spontaneity.

Just write a really scatter brained synopsis that has the main plot points for the skeleton, and then flesh it out with themes as the ideas come. Once you've got that, just start writing.

[Anonymous No.11639240]

here's a cheesy poem I wrote
https://pastebin.com/qkCEtuKp

[Anonymous No.11639282]

>>11633953
perfect invective. rock and no water is fucking sublime.

bumping because i love you poetic motherfuckers

[Anonymous No.11639421]

>>11633953
BASED

>>11638350
CRINGE

[Anonymous No.11639441]

First time really writing for the world I'm building.
Reads like a history book atm, but I'm finding fleshing out a long history will make things more fun and interesting in the future.
It's a fantasy world, but there isn't like wizards or gay shit it mostly subtle, curses, or large beasts, and men.
Only concern is I think it might get aped off as being like GoT which it isn't. It's more aped of my experiences in Crusader Kings II.

I plan on making more a compendium of short stories in this world, before any sort of larger plot line or anything, kinda like just an omnibus.

Map I painted in me little world

https://pastebin.com/QiRVDvLa

[Anonymous No.11639451]

Critique:

Unreal, was the first animal who dreamt another. Monstrous, was the first vertebrate that managed to stand in two feet and spread terror amongst the common beasts that were still crawling, with joy and natural closeness, on the original mud. Astonishing, were the first phone call, the first boiling, the first song, the first loincloth.

[Anonymous No.11639535]

>>11639441
It's OK. Fantasy is just such a widely done genre that I'm wondering what makes this unique. All of the locations seem kind of standard and generic, don't you think?

[Anonymous No.11639546]

>>11628208
Critique this opening paragraph:

Unreal, was the first animal who dreamt of another. Monstrous, was the first vertebrate that managed to stand on two feet and spread terror amongst the common beasts that were still crawling, with joy and natural closeness, on the original mud. Astonishing, were the first telephone call, the first boiling water, the first song, the first loincloth.

[Anonymous No.11639569]

>>11639535
I can see that ya, that's just one small snippet of an event in just 1 kingdom there. There are I believe 7-8 off the top of my head. If you're even remotely interested there is some more information I have on the world Ruhnos

>historical alliances
https://pastebin.com/7QNFunpK

>overview of rhunic cultures
https://pastebin.com/C2yCkBjc

>hycic physiology/culture overview (this big island in the north)
https://pastebin.com/WiDiMvvA

[Anonymous No.11639612]

Completely changed the first two parts to make it fit with iambic pentameter.

How is it so far?
I am having writers blocks so im taking a break.

Divine torment sent from my twisted mind
Mental control, orders made by the dead
Puppet enslaved, wires making me blind
Constant cosmic terror haunting my head

Crippled by a schizophrenic constraint
These Nightmares engulf my fragile mindscape
Holy chatter decide my ugly fate
Noose tied from my estate, help me escape!

[Anonymous No.11639653]

>>11639079
Thanks for the reply. I agree with what you said about the planning benefiting the vomit. It may be that my idea derived from something so simple like a joke, or a single idea which I found comedic, and I am trying to back up from that joke (which I envision as the climax) and form a plot from it. Right now I have semblances of a plot, but I don't think enough to write a story yet.

Instinct tells me to create more plot before I get to the prose, and maybe I should listen to that. I just don't want to be delaying while lying to myself that I'm not delaying.

[Anonymous No.11639673]

>>11639612
Have you ever read poetry? I’m being serious. If you have, what do you like about the poetry you read? Compare that to your work and you’ll see its problems.

[Anonymous No.11639677]

>>11639673
ok .__. ive never read poetry before idk where to start tbqh

[Anonymous No.11639692]

>>11639677
Unironically don’t start with the Greeks. You need to hear the prosody and demeanor of a master of the English language. Most people will say start with the Romantics, that is really good advice. Specifically, read Keats. Specifically read his odes. He’s probably the best at fundamentals in English.

[Anonymous No.11639705]

>>11639692
mmk ill check it out famalam thx..

[Anonymous No.11640039]

I remember the stacks of homework, which struck shots of anxiety through me. I remember the grinning teachers, whose lips dripped of words that I could not take in and comprehend, thus piling on me like bricks.

[Anonymous No.11640154]

>>11640039
No, no, no, no. First of all get rid of “thus.” Extremely ugly. Maybe just “they piled” instead

[Anonymous No.11640296]

>>11639612
is that from a metal song?

[Anonymous No.11640402]

>>11628208
Meatflesh dark and rotund boast bloat sandpaper bruises. They say nothing. Folding card-hand-- a chips-down ethical nightmare mentality-- grey matter screams a din echo vibrant as midday Death Valley. His body is buried beneath an ever-shifting sand, swirling and dancing and building monuments to grim fates such as his. Bloody; shot, blind-eyed and struggling for air. They say nothing. Curl inward and outward in a heinous contraction, as one might when pregnant, only now it's all shivering and nihilism and life has been cruelly beaten.

[Anonymous No.11640441]

Walk it, like I talk it (walk it)
Walk it, like I talk it
Walk it, walk it like I talk it (woo!)
Walk it, like I talk it (yeah!)
Walk it, like I talk it (walk it)
Walk it, like I talk it
Walk it, walk it like I talk it (woo!)
Walk it, like I talk it (hey!)
Walk it, like I talk it (walk it)
Walk it, like I talk it (walk it)
Walk it, like I talk it
Walk it, walk it like I talk it (woo!)
Walk it, like I talk it (talk it)
Walk it, like I talk it (ayy!)
Walk it, like I talk it
Walk it, walk it (woo)
Like I talk it (yeah!)
Take my shoes and walk a mile
Something that you can't do (woo, hey!)
Big talks of the town, big boy gang moves (gang moves!)
I like to walk around with my chain loose (chain, chain!)
She just bought a new ass but got the same boobs (same boobs!)
Whipping up dope, scientist (whip it up, whip it up)
(Cook it up, cook it up) (Skrrt-Skrrt!)
That's my sauce, where you find it?
(That's my sauce) (Look it up, look it up, find it)
Adding up checks, no minus
(Add it up, add it up, add it up, add it up, yeah)
Get your respect in diamonds (ice, ice, ice, ice, ice, ice)
I bought a 'Plain Jane' Rollie
These niggas bought they fame (woo!)
I think my back got scoliosis 'cause I swerve the lane (skrrt!)
Heard you signed your life, for that brand new chain (I heard)
Think it came with stripes, but you ain't straight with the gang (Gang, gang!)
Walk it, like I talk it (walk it)
Walk it, like I talk it
Walk it, walk it like I talk it (walk it)
Walk it, like I talk it (woo!)
Walk it, like I talk it (walk it)
Walk it, like I talk it
Walk it, walk it like I talk it (talk it)
Walk it, like I talk it (let's go)
Walk it, like I talk it (walk it)
Walk it, like I talk it (woop!)
Walk it, like I talk it
Walk it, walk it like I talk it (hey!)
Walk it, like I talk it (walk it)
Walk it, like I talk it (yeah!)
Walk it, like I talk it
Walk it, walk it like I talk it
Ayy! I gotta stay in my zone
Say that we been beefing, dog
But you on your own
First night, she gon' let me fuck 'cause we grown
I hit her, gave her back
To the city, she home (she at home now!)
That was that
So I can't be beefing with no wack nigga, got no backbone
Heard you living in a mansion in all your raps though
But your shit look like the trap on this Google Maps, though
We been brothers since Versace bando, whoa
Name ringing like a Migo trap phone, whoa
Used to be with Vashtie at Santo's
That's on Tommy Campos
We live like 'Sopranos'

[Anonymous No.11640459]

I don't really want no weed (Hell yeah)
I don't really want no friends (Hell yeah)
I don't really need no whip (Hell yeah)
I don't really want no ends (Hell yeah)

I don't really want no weed (Hell yeah)
I don't really want no friends (Hell yeah)
I don't really need no whip (Hell yeah)
I don't really want no ends (Hell yeah)

I don't really want no bitch (Hell yeah)
I don't really want no top (Hell yeah)
I don't really want no hope (Paah)
I don't really want no hoe (Hell yeah)
I don't really want no life (Hell yeah)
I don't even really wanna die (Hell yeah)
I don't really wanna do shit, bitch
World got me down and I wanna just quit (Hell yeah)
I don't wanna play no shows (Hell yeah)
I don't wanna make no clothes (Hell yeah)
I don't wanna write you a verse (Bitch, yeah)
I don't wanna talk no more

I don't really want no weed (Hell yeah)
I don't really want no friends (Hell yeah)
I don't really need no whip (Hell yeah)
I don't really want no ends (Hell yeah)

I don't really want no weed (Hell yeah)
I don't really want no friends (Hell yeah)
I don't really need no whip (Hell yeah)
I don't really want no ends (Hell yeah)

This world is a school
No one expects to stay in school forever

Sever the limbs off my torso and burn what remains
Shouts out to Coheed
I would not be alive if I gave in to one of the times that I wanted to be 6 feet deep beneath all of our feet
I've given up on giving up I found a reason to be in hopes you will deify me
I'm sick of writing I would rather be in Andromeda that way it would take a billion years for you to find me

Candle wax burns on her back in the shape of a pentacle

[Anonymous No.11640477]

>>11640296
No
I never read poetry but I've been in grindcore bands so maybe that's where I'm subconsciousy coming from

[Anonymous No.11640574]

This happened because I have a job interview next week. I was driving home from my current job and listening to my old iPod because I lose my radio stations in the hills between there and home. I was thinking about the questions I am going to be asked and I thought they might ask me to describe "who I am".

The music I was listening to made me think I might answer-
"Well, I'm not the directionless teenager I was once," and go from there.

Then again, that doesn't say anything to somebody in a position to interview somebody else. Or you, for that matter. I was thinking of my years where I was completely reckless. (It's worth mentioning that a hopefully small number of you remember another thing I wrote called "The Bible of Professional Alcoholism" a few years ago) I was also drinking a tallboy of beer I had wrapped in electrical tape. Yes, I was driving. I do this when I can't maturely process what is happening in my life. I have grown in some ways and haven't in others.

But now I'm getting off the track. I had been told by the person who referred me to this company where I had the interview to "not be afraid to talk about who I am or show a personality".

I want this job and considered being totally transparent with the interviewers and talking about my preoccupation with the recent developments surrounding my grade school and its clergy. In short, I grew up in a hotbed of sexual abuse without ever knowing about it. A very long grand jury report was released recently and you can read it if you want. When I say it’s very long I mean it’s hundreds of pages long. Some parts of it might make you want to throw up. I got very close to throwing up at parts myself. In short, it called into question the entire way I came up. You can walk away from an institution, but you can't walk entirely away from your childhood. At least I can't. You can tell because I still capitalize "Church". Though I walked away from the Church for my own reasons a long time ago, I know many people who have not. I don't envy them or their stomachs on Sundays.

I'm getting off the track again. These two thoughts about this interview and my upbringing at the hands of an ostensibly benevolent but also sexual-predator-shielding institution made me picture, very clearly, the screen that the priest puts up at confession. I first experienced the screen when I was 8 or 9 and it was before I could know the true anonymity we're experiencing right now. Part of me wishes jobs conducted interviews that way- in a confessional with a screen between the two of you. I don’t feel bad telling you that I regularly drink while driving because there’s only a tiny chance you’ll know who I actually am. If these people take you on they’re going to learn who you are, sure, but I don’t want people to know everything about me right away.

[Anonymous No.11640575]

If you’ve never experienced the screen, it’s not like the screen you’re looking at right now. It’s either a metal grate with holes so small you can barely make out the outline of the person you’re talking to or an opaque sheet of dyed cloth. I never considered the screen until I started reading some of the things people write on these forums but now I don’t know how I could live without it. I can’t talk in real life to people, real people, the way I talk to you. It doesn’t matter if they’re behind a screen or not. Look at it this way- say I told the priest everything. I knew it was him behind the screen. I asked my teacher at the time “Do you have to tell the priest everything?” and she said “Yes, everything,” and I had a moment of total panic.

So should I have told him everything? I would have had to tell him “I stayed up late watching Boxing After Dark and afterwards there was a movie where these ladies take their tops off and I don’t even know why I did it but I took my prick out and I rubbed it till I came”. I wouldn’t have said it like that, I wouldn’t have said “prick” or “came” back then. I didn’t know those words or what they meant or what effect they would have had on the person on the other side of the screen. The priest I confessed to the few times I did was not on the registry of the identified but I know he left on some kind of leave out one day out of the blue. That makes my stomach turn. I go back in time a lot in my head. What if I did tell him I knocked one out? Would he have used it against me? Would I have been one of those kids who got raped?

I find a lot of trouble in going back in time in my head. It occured to me once that it’s not impossible to imagine myself in some life I could have lead being drawn to the clergy. If I did, I don’t know what I would have done. I led a normal life but since we have a screen between us I can confess that I once raped a woman. It was consensual to a certain point, but I pretended not to hear her when she started to say “No” and “Stop”. Sometimes I can still see her hands over her face. I am ashamed of myself for what I’ve done but I have no desire to tell my friends or family about it. I only tell you. We have a screen between us. In writing this, I started to write things such as “At the time, I thought this was normal” and “We were both intoxicated, but-” I am only trying to excuse myself. Read the reports. The statements are full of these kinds of phrases.

I do not expect to speak to my interviewers the way I am speaking to you. I will likely wish there is a screen between us. In a perfect world I would tell them that I am not so much interested in a job as I am in telling them that we all live in confessional booths. But then, it is also apparent that knowing the truth is not the same as living the truth because the price of doing one is much, much less than doing the other.

---

"Confessional"

[Anonymous No.11640665]

>>11628333
>big forehead,
kek

[ق No.11640764]

>The pavilion and the hill appear in deep hue
>Virtuous are the hermits living within West Yen's view.

>The cloud over the horizon waves above the caverns.
>The sprouting rocks, the flowery forest grace mountain turns.
>The ship shadows extend from west to south rivers.
>The apes flock to pick up taroes here and there.

>Amid the travel we come across the sacred city
>Camping here, we visit a shrine holy and quiet.

September 15, written in the Lingting Cavern
Signed, Ni Tsun.

[Anonymous No.11640949]

Characters:

Ariade - The narrator, weaving this tale
Theseus - Son of the fearsome sea god Poseidon Earthshaker
Mistress of the Labyrinth - A panther spirit that protects the Labyrinth

Ariadne: It was a bright night and the full moon's reflection danced in placid waves under the rocky cliff. By the light of the moon Theseus dived off the clif and perfectly avoided the stones that would dash him to pieces. Deep beneath the ocean Theseus hunted for the hidden cave entrance under the cliff. Choking on the waters Thesues fell for a time unconscious unti he woke up washed up from a pool of water inside the labryinth. Across the dimly lit cave, the cat-eyed Mistress of the Labyrinth stared intently at Theseus.

Mistress: And what sort of fishy are you supposed to be nyah?!

[Anonymous No.11641030]

>>11639653
If you are working off an idea that's grown off a joke, then write a small script that places the joke into a scenario, almost like a sketch scene. Then work backwards and forwards from there to introduce and flesh out characters or locations in said script. At that point it'd be fine if you just started writing normally. I often will just trip into prose when fleshing stuff out. If it still fits or sounds good when it comes to the first draft, I adapt it. It's okay to move backwards and forwards during the early process.

If you have no ideas to dress up the main punch lines, then maybe it should just be a very short story or not much more than a sketch. Hope this helps

[Anonymous No.11641142]

>>11640575
this post is good, the other post, not so much. take this post and write a postmodern confessional novel told in retrospect, a la lolita or mother night. cut the first post entirely though, you don't need the explanations in it.

[Anonymous No.11641333]

>>11641030
It totally helps. I've been doing pretty much just that, so your post is affirming! Thanks friend.

[Anonymous No.11641483]

Try to grasp or clutch
At any hour day or month
Resolve the pine sap scent
Into the lines you’ve read
And written.

Follow this trajectory
It’s the first heat you’ve ever felt
First glass of water
This is the one on which
All things have come to pivot.

You have never been so alive
Nor I
And you have never seen so deeply
And you are on the cusp of something
And yet you cannot hear it falling.

[Anonymous No.11641736]

>>11636908
No-one has critiqued it yet. I know it's long, but this is the only place where I'll get honest criticism

[Anonymous No.11642890]

bump

[Anonymous No.11643242]

Soft as the massacre of Suns
By Evening’s Sabres slain

[Anonymous No.11643320]

>>11628333
Dreadful but cute

[Anonymous No.11644086]

https://pastebin.com/2beaYPjD

Is it good?

[Anonymous No.11644231]

https://pastebin.com/kbmeE5BA

[Anonymous No.11644277]

>>11644086
Too tired to read it thoroughly so you have my apologies for being a lazy reviewer. Maybe I'll give it another look tomorrow.
Here are initial thoughts;

+:
>Vaguely interesting concept
>good use of artistic language

-:
>easy to get lost while reading
>plot doesn't exactly grab me but fantasy has never been one of my favourite settings
>slow down with the commas, champ.
>does smell a little bit of R34

[Anonymous No.11644543]

Personal Log: Day 1, Entry 1.
Captain Avery of the UMC speaking. We were on a routine mining operation when a fire broke out aboard the ship. Myself, Cadet Evans and Cadet Hilson managed to get to an escape pod. The rest of the crew and the ship itself, I have no knowledge of. We've landed on a tiny island. Ocean surrounds us from horizon to horizon. There are some other small islands scattered around us. The location systems on the computer interface of my helmet say that we have landed on UP9 but it cant be right because from orbit UP9 is a barren planet with no trace of water. It was a rough landing, maybe my helmets interface got damaged.

Personal Log: Day 1, Entry 2.
We have a fire going on the beach of our new island home. The sun set very quickly here. The moon is huge, it seems disturbingly close to us. The water is encroaching. We need to sleep further inland. In the creeping darkness I could swear I've seen lights on one of the other small islands. We will scout them tomorrow.

Personal Log: Day 2, Entry 1.
Hilson is gone. When Evans and I awoke she was gone. We searched our tiny island but found nothing.

Personal Log: Day 2, Entry 2.
Evans found Hilsons helmet. It was floating out in the water. Still no sign of Hilson.

Personal Log: Day 2, Entry 3.
Evans is gone. We went to scout the island with the lights. Half way through our swim across it got very dark and the water got choppy. Evans disappeared under. I dived. Again and again. But to no avail. It is pitch black in that water. I swam back to base camp and no sooner had i flopped down on the sand when the sun came back and the ocean was calm.

Personal Log: Day 2, Entry 4.
The moon is closer again tonight.
The water is further up the beach.
Im huddled up at my fire.
The water lapping at my toes.
There are several lights on that distant island tonight.

Personal Log: Day 3, Entry 1.
Didnt sleep much.
Had to retreat to the wooded area in the centre of the island to escape the stalking water. Kept waking, hearing things.

Personal Log: Day 3, Entry 2.
So hungry. I fashioned a crude spear but the ocean appears to be empty of life.

Personal Log: Day 3, Entry 3.
No seafood to be found. No animals or fruit or vegetables or anything edible on this island. So hungry.
So tired.

Personal Log: Day 4, Entry 1.
Didnt sleep at all last night. The water took the whole island. Had to clinb a tree to stay dry and safe. Lots of lights on the island across the way. Keep thinking I heard Evans and Hilson talking in the distance.

Personal Log: Day 4, Entry 2.
Need to sleep.
Heavy eyes.
Be careful of the water though.
Sleepy.
My legs are wet

[Anonymous No.11644569]

>>11636908
I liked it. Nice seeing 4chan memes written with competency. I don't have any serious criticisms.

[Anonymous No.11644709]

"Hey I found this [cross] on the ground and kept it and thought nothing of it. Recently though, this thought came up and I associated it with you and then I thought about you deeply and how you blossomed to all of us around you and its effects on us and your tattoos and its histoey and the occult and this cross did you leave for me under the desk to see as a token of secret admiration but loft intimidation and your beautiful mouth and smile but you are taken so consider me interested if you want to go out and party and learn something anything you name it my heart still flutters days after our time goes I want your time will you share it however you are great here's my number please."
A note I will never give to some tall thicc goth chick

[Anonymous No.11644717]

But sorry symbolists are acquiring an awful amount of salsbury steaks, but surely shall they themselves soon be broken by suicides; but, here the shoeshiners started suing their tortured teens through time, but borrowing bucks breaks bonds of blood; but, we warriors with wee worried sons shan't shoot for family, but before then there's say someday dollars will once divine drawing sewage showerings on seaside shores sacked by big tsunami storms.

[Anonymous No.11645426]

>>11644277
Please do if you can.

And thanks for the crits!

[Anonymous No.11645464]

Onions el fuego que arde tu piel
Onions el agua que mata tu sed
el castillo, la torre yo onions
La espada que guarda el cuadal
Tu el aire que respiro yo
En la luz de la luna en el mar
La garganta que ansio mojar
Que temor ahogar de amor
Y cuales deseos me vas a dar
Dices tu "Mi tesoro baste con mirarlo"
Tuyo sera, tuyo sera

[Anonymous No.11645569]

>>11629115
Not that poster, i love his music as well. It seems he toned down a lot of his angsty political views he held when he was younger. He is a more thought out individual now later in life

The church burning was mostly insane, even if he is correct about christianitys evil. Also glad to see hes not murdering others anymore

[Anonymous No.11645679]

>>11645464
>onions
que ?

[Anonymous No.11646410]

>>11644277
The full chapter if you want it.
https://pastebin.com/XaSZxGn3

[Anonymous No.11646515]

>>11634851
I like this man.
I don’t know how long I’d be entertained long term as it’s hard to read into the story telling itself here, but the way it’s written is very aesthetically pleasing to me. I approve

[Anonymous No.11646537]

>>11636908
I thought that was really good actually mate.
Perfect balance of memes & real literature, y’know?
Do you have any more?
I’d be keen to read it

[Anonymous No.11646607]

>>11628333
You’re a braver man than I for posting this. Also your gf will probably appreciate it either way.

[Anonymous No.11646616]

Throw yourself, my Sleipnir draughthorse, dark
eidetic blur, Olympic diver — crash
against my gates. And heavenstorm like an ark
with rugged keel, and dorsal strength to thrash

upon my center. Clasp my fingers. Chest
restricting chest. A viscous sarabande,
Ravel between your collar and my breast;
you teasing time from my nape and hinterlands.

Stir me, Wing Chun and bhangra thunderstorms
in your sweet loins. Like Anaxagoras
said, ‘everything's in everything’. (How warm
your embrace.) Take me in you in me. Remember the sea,

the sea dissolving every name and meaning —
dark like pining. Return to black beginning

[Anonymous No.11646720]

>>11644569
>>11646537
I terminated the project because I felt it was too derivative of my favourites, especially Confederacy of Dunces. I appreciate your praise, but do you have any criticisms?