/lit/ - Literature

[retard !!g5703f No.1184836]

I'm your basic mathfag who delves into literature every now and then. Last night, around 4am, I decided to start writing. Ended up with some 4 pages of shit. Would the average person have any interest in continuing to read such shenanigans, or am I just writing to myself here? Story starts next post.

[retard !!g5703f No.1184838]

“Wait, what?”

How the fuck could she be so dumb? A retarded monkey, on a particularly bad day – one of those days where you wake up late and run out of time for coffee – could have solved this derivation in a matter of seconds. Yet there she sits, dumbfounded. Like so many students here in this world created by some misanthropic, racist, sexist GOD, this stupid cunt wouldn’t be able to pass calculus, and would thus be giving up her dreams of becoming a pediatrician. Ah yes, this forbearance to comprehend the underpinnings of make-believe provides the fuel for the average university to just say, “We’re sorry, but your application has been denied.”

“Well, you know the chain rule right?”

“Yeah, I remember that. Dee outtie innie times dee innie.”

I guess that works. Not sure why you need a mnemonic to remember something so fucking simple, but sure, that works.

[retard !!g5703f No.1184839]

“Okay, and what about your log rules?”
“Yes, yes, I’m not stupid.”
Then why the fuck don’t you get this? Can you put two and two together here? Jesus fucking Christ.
“Ok, so, using the chain rule and the log rules together. We can see this all just simplifies to e to the natural log of x, which is, of course, just x.”
“All right then. Well, explain this one.”
We just did this problem. Are. You. Fucking. Joking. It’s utterly impossible to believe that this time is worth your forty dollars, and I cannot imagine my forty dollars is going to be worth spending after this miserable hour with you. I would rather be strewn over a fire, whipped, beaten – anything to avoid this repeated expose of ignorance, prideful stupidity, and of course the general craving to have sex with her finely grooved body, this masterpiece; this masterpiece, this stunning example of the classic American – platinum blonde hair, the supple breasts, the acrylic nails, the black miniskirt, the v-neck blouse that’s one size too small (or perhaps just perfect in my mind), the short heels – that simply screams, “God must love me.” Then why am I here, attempting to teach her monkey math? Because God doesn’t love me. He loves the frat boy that made sure his silvery, slimy, sickening cum had entered each and every imaginable orifice of this stupid whore. Then God must love me for keeping me away. Eh, who am I kidding?

[retard !!g5703f No.1184840]

“So, how do you do this one?”

Right. Calculus.

“Oh, sorry, I was thinking about the best way to explain it. We should try this…”

Thirty minutes later the ecstasy of the boner was gone, the rage over the numbskull disappeared, and filling the void of these two came the reminder of hunger. When was the last time I ate? I think I ate lunch. McDonalds? No, that was yesterday. Helen would kill me if she discovered the empty well that is my stomach. Glad she’s out of town. It’s funny how easily I mislead, lie, and generally masque my emotions every day around her and others, yet if she were to call right now and peruse the idea of food, I would be speechless and incapable of coming up with a story that could fool a even a five-year-old that asks one too many ‘whys.’

[retard !!g5703f No.1184842]

The earth-shattering roar from down the hall molested my ear drums in ways never before conceived. The fuck was that? Again. This time the vibrations similar to an earthquake, not one from the Richter Scale, but the kind that shakes your very being to the core. The ringing ears couldn’t be controlled, and the headache began. This isn’t real. Control yourself Dill, it passes. It passes with time. Screaming. SHUT THE FUCK UP. From around the corner, it’s the girl. This time it’s as if I decided to sit next to sit next to a 2000 Watt speaker in the middle of some shitty ass Jay-Z song in the middle of some worthless high school dance I didn’t want to be at, yet here this DJ is playing music at volume eleven, fucking with my head more than the damn slut dancing as if she can’t even hear a word the stupid nigger is singing.

And she’s gone. This isn’t real.

[retard !!g5703f No.1184843]

Her eyes, limpid to the point of viewing her soul – a soul that was more than terrified; remorseful, regretful; the kind of soul that realizes the inevitableness of what’s to come, the kind of soul that is truly praying to her God even though she is utterly certain that he can do nothing for her – shattered everything that was once true. Mr. Remarque once told me the horrors of war, and the destruction was brushed aside as something like that couldn’t possibly occur within the lifetime of a middle-class American boy from the 90s. This girl’s corpse falls forward, my brain still telling her to shut the fuck up, right up until the moment where her vocal chords no longer existed in any meaningful sense of the word. I’m not even looking at her anymore, I only see the man reloading. Clearly an expert. No one can reload a 12-gauge that quickly. Hours on the range couldn’t upgrade my dexterity to the point of this brute. Is that Cline?

[retard !!g5703f No.1184844]

“Cline!”

Not lowering his weapon, but slowly walking towards me.

Shouting, “How the fuck do you know my name? And what, are you stupid? Isn’t your pansy-ass going to run and scream? Common faggot. Dill?”

Laughter, sinister – the laugh you hear in Disney movies from the likeness of Cruella-Devil. The laughter that is made to be a joke, certainly not one that carries over into life. This isn’t real.

“HAHA… still a fucking queer after all these years. And now you’re going to die a pointless death. I should have just killed you back in Ohio. Come closer, walk here, I want to see your eyes when you die.”

I begin to crawl forward. At least I won’t have to hear that terrible sound again. Bullets travel faster than sound. I’ll be dead before another one. Hopefully it doesn’t miss. Unbearable, worse than the cacophony that spews forth from effeminates down near the fountain every day at noon.

/endofwhatIhavewritten. What think?

[Anonymous No.1184853]

[retard !!g5703f No.1184854]

shameless self bump

[nick No.1184857]

i love this story, it is so damn REAL

[nick No.1184860]

>his time it’s as if I decided to sit next to sit next to a 2000 W

re-word this

[retard !!g5703f No.1184866]

>>1184860

Yeah, just re-read it myself, easily the worst sentence in the story thus far. It begins the same as the previous (This time) and just sucks.

Keep comments welcome. Harsh prolly better because it'll make me write more.

[Anonymous No.1184872]

way too much cursing
way too much
also
>>>/r9k/

[Anonymous No.1184879]

Your writing style isn't bad, you certainly have potential. Cut down on the excessive cursing and hating and keep writing.

[Anonymous No.1184887]

What the fuck is the point? The writing isn't completely horrible, but there is nothing to this story but the story itself.

[retard !!g5703f No.1184888]

>>1184879
>>1184872

Since you both say the same thing, it's hard to ignore. Is there any particular reason? I've read plenty of novels with excessive cursing, so I didn't think it was an issue, but apparently it is? I'm trying to display the average angry college math kid, so I assumed that using more was better... regardless, this is the only character I plan on having use these words in any normal fashion, so, idk.

Thanks again though.

[retard !!g5703f No.1184892]

>>1184887

haven't gotten to that part of the story, heh

also, to quote Oscar Wilde, something I agree with,
"

We can forgive a man for making a useful thing as long as he
does not admire it. The only excuse for making a useless
thing is that one admires it intensely.
All art is quite useless.
"

[Anonymous No.1184895]

>>1184892

Pretension alert: Life is art. When ever we express ourselves we are doing art. Sometimes it is just more subtle than others.

[Ausfaggy !50Ah172E9Y No.1184897]

You need to have a bit more of an established setting and character, cut out some of the misogyny and swearing (or write in some reason behind the anger/distrust) or it all looks like it's coming from you as just a mad student who hates one girl for not knowing something or for her not to be on all fours wrapped around his shaft.
Other than that, really cool, kept me engaged and I would love to hear more non-math related stories about dumb women.

[Wonderlust King !!MH89dAw4W7B No.1184913]

>can't even tripfag properly

[Anonymous No.1184915]

Fun story OP. As a fellow mathfag I enjoy the tension, arrogance and sex that you have here.

But, if you don't mind, me and a buddy are competing to see who can write a better five page short story. I'd like to know if you guys think this is a good start for the first page?

http://pastebin.com/ZsKrS1uX

[Anonymous No.1184917]

>derivation

I think you mean differentiation.

[nick No.1184919]

it is a perfect snip of YOUR life, it describes college-school
i go to school, i can relate to this, hey i get fuckin boners too, this rocks yeah
your story has personality is what i am saying
and your readers have personalities too... you arent trying to make anything up here-arent trying to throw a new yo at us at al, you keep it reeeeel real, maaan

[Anonymous No.1184922]

>>1184888
It's the same thing for excessive description; WE GET IT. Don't get me wrong, the anger and swearing add to the story, but at a certain point it goes beyond that purpose into annoyance/dragging on.

[retard !!g5703ff No.1184932]

>>1184913
Rofl, I hadn't even noticed

[retard !!yoSeQaKHRhP No.1184933]

>>1184932

and then I messed up captcha and it redid, fail

[retard !!/UvrPhONTj7 No.1184940]

Sorry I posted such a lame story about math, guise. I'll keep my whining on /r9k/ from now on, I promise.