CRIT THREAD CRIT THREAD EVERYONE IN RIGHT NOW RIGHT NOW

[Anonymous No.13752061]

[Anonymous No.13752079]

When the high hats slice it’s a regularizer, a good and caring fascist. With one hand squeezing my valve he gets the blood pumping. At 136bpm, whipped into shape, I bop my head like a chicken. It feels good to be instrumentalized as I drive my small and zippy black car down the superhighway. The suburbs slip even further into non-consideration, this is how I like it when my car zips.
The ankle moves the foot keeps the pedal steady, no more than 80mph. At 136bpm, the sainted rhythms of sick-yellow valley nights under the streetlight come quick. The satellites move upstairs, the signs relay across the optics, the camgirls stain office chairs, the neets talk kino, Hokas come up in a contracting pool of ironic fashions, under sick yellow light and harvest moon, my ghost drives south and I am happy to be instrumentalized.

[Anonymous No.13752090]

A Fork in the Road

Mid-twenties, terminal come-up, ping-ponging through the precarious class, John Lemas, both over and under-educated for staging stock images, for contorting resumes for ATS, for test-taking for earning certifications in asset-worthy skills, like Python, decided that failure was the only penetrating movement in this otherwise hermetically sealed system.

The Dilemma

How do you make a scene, a political, condemnatory, disruptive scene, while quitting your freelance job, which is to take pictures of a man with a banana to his ear (like a phone) and photoshop old women’s heads onto a line of Pez dispensers? Time to quit, silently, and make vague institutional critiques in Youtube vlogs, while living out of your car, DIY.

Car Talk

Lemas’ modified trailer reminded his commenters of an enthusiast’s silver whale: the shiny, chrome Airstream, an R&D looking cold-war trailer turned retrofuturist meme. It also reminded his commenters, if not subliminally, of the minimalist trend towards reflective surfaces, taking its (minimalism’s) moralizing, omphaloskeptic gaze to its most literal conclusion: a home designed for total self-observation.

The Brand

Not asian. Not too short. Not Dark. Trimmed beard and headband. Gentle eyes belying hard drive at self-promotion: a Tinder face in the funhouse mirror of his DIY trailer, ballooning. This was Lemas off the grid.
“The Lonestar State”, with John Lemas. A channel in a genre called Nature Influencer. Moral essentialism. Purity fetish. Eco-oriented, with palingenetic overtones and professed desire to green-out this great nation. Eventually credited with producing “follower-fascism,” a term bandied with such frequency on the pop-lecture circuit as “post-truth.”

[Anonymous No.13752156]

>>13752079
braindeath, southdeath; you have absolutely no purpose to your life other than consumption and sensuality so that is what you project to us, you just dive deeper into your own perception for its own sake, with no plan to deliver anything deeper, like you just assume by making the effort you've uncovered something worthwhile in your experience.
basically kill yourself.

>>13752090
what is this? your ideas are absolute shit you are a fucking husk
==


Women believe anything they hear.

They are instinctually programmed to assign truth to anything anyone says in their trusted social sphere with no thought or judgement at all.

Because they had to watch over others constantly since the beginning of humanity, they became selfless. Because they were so close to all the needs and wants of their people, they developed the instinct to trust them absolutely and a true understanding of their people was taken for granted.
Their bodies and minds became dedicated to nourishing their communities. They would listen to the men speaking of what they've done in the wide world and translate the substance to emotional terms that can be understood by other women, and so used to guide the behavior of the children.
When they were relieved of many responsibilities to their people by the 'modernization' of society the trait of selflessness became hollow and so turned to nothing but self-unawareness, leaving the instinct to implicitly trust their social sphere intact to be turned to purposes other than what made it to begin with.

With the addition of 'the media' to modern society, with all of its inherent falsehoods, women are turned completely against their own nature.
Their nurturing instincts are used to nurture the interests of the upper classes as handed down from the media rather than those of the people they see and interact with every day, even their own children.
Instead of being warm with compassion they are cold with judgement calculated from the information they are brainwashed with; willing to go to any length to make their friends and families conform to the dictates of the elite.

[Anonymous No.13752161]

>>13752156
So it is that women are the primary tool of the elite to control us all, because men will do anything for their women.
So it is that love is turned against us and the very foundation of our existence is betrayed.

The only solution is to overpower women completely; to overcome and/or capture the elite's front-line soldiers at any cost.
Life begins with women, without dealing with them you can't do anything at all and all planning is worthless.
This is not a matter of personal responsibility. This is an aberration of society and it requires an organized collective solution.
Men everywhere have to band together in confederated groups, decide on what the law should be, and enforce it autonomously.
By setting our minds on this goal and accomplishing it we will gain the strength to contend with the next battle - 'politics'.

You will never accomplish anything other than the total loss of your humanity by continuing to work under this system.

[Anonymous No.13752188]

>>13752156
what the heck lol

[Anonymous No.13752219]

>>13752061
Have at it.

https://pastebin.com/a1Yd8ShB

[Anonymous No.13752239]

>>13752219
>https://pastebin.com/a1Yd8ShB
i like how its the same speech, the only speech he knows

[Anonymous No.13752257]

>>13752219
>mundane details separated by commas
>blocks of one-line 'conversational small talk' dialogue
burn it from space
you are an abomination, kill yourself you soulless braindead sack of judaised shit

[Anonymous No.13752259]

>>13752239
Shit dude, thanks for reading.

[Anonymous No.13752265]

>>13752219
>the crowd roar and the cameras flash
this will never, ever happen for you
KILL yourself

[Anonymous No.13752266]

>>13752257
Shit dude, thanks for reading. I’m glad you liked it so much.

[Anonymous No.13752267]

>>13752219
yuck

[Anonymous No.13752275]

>>13752267
>>13752265
>>13752257
Don’t listen to the samefag

[Anonymous No.13752282]

>>13752257
>>13752156

yes cry for me manlet throw your tantrum, please continue lol

[Anonymous No.13752318]

>>13752282
>>13752275
you are literally underaged and a horrible writer and a horrible person with absolutely no purpose

everything you do is for attention
you're about ready to get the attention you deserve

[Anonymous No.13752329]

>>13752318
lol got u trained, gimp please continue

[Anonymous No.13752348]

>>13752318

[Anonymous No.13752376]

>>13752257
>>13752265
I know who you are.

[Anonymous No.13752398]

this is really a shame, I used to really enjoy share threads. Keep posting your work and we'll just try to ignore the samefags

[Anonymous No.13752401]

>>13752219
This is pretty funny desu. But literature ain’t funny. Reads more like a New Yorker “Shout & Murmur” than literature.

Read more.

[Anonymous No.13752407]

>>13752398
>we'll just try to ignore
already failed
>we'll just try to ignore reality
good job though

you are a worthless subhuman, kill yourself you piece of shit

[Anonymous No.13752417]

>zoomers immediate response to any adversity is to run through the list of twitter-class insults they received in the past and form a mob
this is just so fucked. you are literally not human. literally at least half of you have zero capacity for humanity.

[Anonymous No.13752632]

>>13752219
>uuuhhhh
is pretty annoying. Seems more like text-speak than lit. Generally I feel that using added letters and punctuation to signify tone is pretty shit, and non-lit.
See also:
>“Can you get any more information about that or…?”

>one's
>caps in dialogue
>POP!
>The stewardess having this much information on the incident
>Also being wholly unprofessional and purposefully distressing her passengers
>why you holding a gun?
>That’s my favorite baaaaaaaaaaaaall
>No no no m-my f-f-favorite baaaaaaaaall.
>he’s fully raging by now
>who hates Mr. Pearl as he did Mr. Pearl
>9mm in dialogue
>Which how did a little boy get a
>So but as Mr. Pearl

Grammar aside, the whole situation is ludicrous, doesn't make sense at all, and fails to touch reality at all regarding how the situation you depicted would actually play out.

Furthermore, telling the whole stroy through dialogue comes across as incredible lazy.

It's a cool idea, but shoddily executed, and feels more like a failed draft than anything worthwhile.

By all means keep writing. But write better.

[Anonymous No.13752653]

>>13752156
>>13752161

[Anonymous No.13752836]

In the dim light, I see him, his form crooked and misshapen. His dark eyes hold pure contempt, aloof from the suffering he brings. His hands are stained not with blood, but with tears that are not his own. The stains do not bother him. To get what he wants, he dirties himself however necessary.

His cold lips come together in a tight cut across his face, teeming with vile pride. After all he’s done, he still thinks himself better. He holds his head angled, so he can look down on me. I hate him.

I know him well. Despite all his lies, he’s not deft with his tongue. Kind words don’t suit him, and he has to force them out. His hatred, however, comes easily. For these reasons, he’s kept himself from the light where sane men live. He thrives in the dark, a leech that clings to whatever is unfortunate enough to touch it.

His eyes catch mine once again, ringed with tiredness. In a virtuous man these marks would be the scars of a hard day’s work, but I know he hasn’t worked a day in his life. His swollen eyes are the fruits of sloth, and nothing more.

He takes because he has nothing but his vanity. His skin is pockmarked and blemished, imperfections slashed at until they fade. And yet as flawed as he is, he still clings to his contempt for the imperfect. He wants to cut at them, fix them, but he can’t. Nobody thinks him as perfect as he does. Nobody would change themselves for him.

I hate him. Of all the people he has betrayed, only I never learned my lesson. I believed him, again and again. I loved him. I still do.

Now I look in his eyes, and I see the ugliness of him in his entirety. I don’t know if there’s any good in him. I don’t ask. All I can do is hope that the next time I see him will be different.

With a silent prayer, I turn away. And, from within the polished glass, so does he.

[Anonymous No.13752853]

>>13752079
>>13752090
i like these

[Anonymous No.13752891]

Kept that word then let it go, now I say it like a reflex, like a facial-tic. Need a slap to the mouth. I say it after parties, bookends phone-calls overseas. In the morning after waking up, at night in the white heat of phonesex. All I affirm is my desire to make it real. Need a slap to the mouth for what I’ve said. She makes me bored and I love her. She takes care of me, but she makes me, she makes me bored and I love her.

[Anonymous No.13752931]

>>13752836
get victorian vibes here which is a mixed read. It seems like the default "writerly" style for a lot of people, its def absurd to write this way, like contemporary composers emulating bach or somebody, but I also liked jekyll and hyde despite myself.

[Anonymous No.13752943]

Build a bus, as you do, for that girl you like
Flowery metal petals, ground torched out like a sun
Belt out mechanized brutalities that, without
The big head, hammered back, oil greaser
Who keeps his hands clean now-a-days just so you know
Without him in full view shattered visors, in rust cut tape
Who’d you have? Agape - blue lit? Some tit? Unreal just so
Fertile ground looks growing up an outward spout
On a sunny mesa day

[Anonymous No.13752952]

A brief introduction of a character for what I hope to eventually be a novella

[Anonymous No.13752993]

>>13752931
yeah I get that a lot
how do I modernize my writing

[Anonymous No.13753014]

[Anonymous No.13753028]

>>13752952
words like cacophony, recede, respite, loomed, nooks, obscurity are premium mediocre words, they got no zing. The best part of this was Milo's thoughts on the family which gets close to being great. V effective. reminded me of how my mom thinks.

Glaring spelling error "to be ahead of them rather than behind" should read "to be ahead of HIM (the bald man)..." if this is a spelling error, and plural them means Milo is going to his family too it's a self-serving wish and I think this cheapens a good moment

[Anonymous No.13753052]

a nadie le importa crack

[Anonymous No.13753076]

>>13752993
Read more contemporary stuff, song lyrics are also good to read along to. Turgid victorian stuff doesn't lend itself well to pop format. Prioritize concision. Compact metaphors grounded in material descriptions would serve your writing well.

[Anonymous No.13753091]

>>13753076
thanks for the advice
I've been reading Stevenson recently so that's prob why it's so fucked

[Anonymous No.13753099]

>>13752952
>>13753014
You're both too enamored with trying to draw out the mundane into something poetic and significant. It's a habit I used to fall into.

[Anonymous No.13753102]

Source on OP pic?

[Anonymous No.13753115]

>>13752156
you have to be at least 12 to post here

[Anonymous No.13753116]

>>13753102
it's a sulfur farm I saw on a professor's slideshow. Floored it wasn't a crime scene

[Anonymous No.13753123]

>>13753028
Thanks. I'll try to pay more attention to those words. And I did intend it to be the plural "them" including Milo since they were going the same way, but Milo isn't going to his family at all. I think I'll switch it to him.
>>13753099
Is there something inherently wrong with it, though? I've made this exact drive sans the stick figure family wish before and sometimes the mundane can become poetic.

[Anonymous No.13753131]

>>13753123
personal opinion but to me the mundane is mundane is mundane

[Anonymous No.13753137]

>>13753116
Waat it looks like an art piece, a painting or an album cover...

[Anonymous No.13753168]

>>13752061
Story I’ve been working on. Thinking of trying to get it published soon. Do your worst.
https://pastebin.com/EnmrTGPY

[Anonymous No.13753186]

>>13753131
I'm intentionally making an interest in the mundane part of Milo's character though. He's the guy that sees bumper stickers and imagines the life of the driver. I've tried to take care to make sure that the tone is restricted to Milo's chapters.
He's a bit of a burnout that doesn't have much in his life besides drugs at the beginning of the story, the next time you see him he's on shrooms and gets enamored with the aisles of a grocery store.

[Anonymous No.13753200]

>>13752943
good flow, don't like how the images develop. Pretty incommensurable and multiply on top of each other to the point where I can't find a thread between them, and I can sort of sense you have a preferred reading

[Anonymous No.13753256]

>>13753186
You may be reaching beyond your abilities, which is fine, and how you improve. If you're trying to elevate the mundane your prose has to be Joyce tier and I don't think you're there yet.

[Anonymous No.13753271]

>>13752156
Nice Andrew Anglin 'pasta about chicks, there...

[Anonymous No.13753308]

>>13753256
I guess a lot of it is overreaching, even outside that excerpt. Everything I write seems to ape another writer, I'll finish a brief chapter and see shitty Pynchon, the other day I made a dialog-only shitty Gaddis chapter. Maybe just churning out enough pieces will eventually sharpen them into something better that can actually be mine.

[Anonymous No.13753380]

>>13753168
Very good. Don’t like the style but I’ll still admit it’s high quality. I guess the young protagonist allows for some flexibility.

[Anonymous No.13753481]

>>13753099
The scene was meant to convey that the character was having an extreme emotional reaction. Is the scope/setting of the scene mundane or is it simply my writing being bland?

[Anonymous No.13753578]

>>13752061
I showed up at the abbey by the waters and the old nun asked me “Who are you” So I looked down in humility and said “My Papa died in sickness and mah Mama died with my baby brother, ta village said I was cursed and now I have no home to go to” and the nun said my family was good people and asked if I’d like to pray with her tonight and I told her I don’t know much about prayers except for before dinner and bedtime but Mama taught reading and writing and Papa always told me I was good with a fishing rod. The nun told me then she’d teach me all about prayers and we prayed for them that night in front of the cross and I stayed until sunrise and the nun stayed with me as if it wasn’t only my family she was praying for.

I learned the old nun was an Abbess and she was like a Ma of the nuns so I respected her like my Ma even though the nuns wouldn’t and instead call her dirty names in little whispers. I told the Abbess this and she asked who and I said everyone and she laughed then told me she can’t whip everyone’s behind or there be no room for praying and I told her I can pray for everyone while she does it.

I did some exploring outside the abbey by giving the slip during bathtime and using the big sheets on the clothesline as cover and found a shed beside the garden. I dug out an old fishing rod and when I came back with fish the nuns and Abbess weren’t too happy about dirtying my habit and smell but they brightened up when I made Papa’s fish stew and then I went to take a bath but there wasn’t any water left in the buckets so I dipped in the fountain and everyone got mad at me again.

[Anonymous No.13753738]

>>13752061
wrote this after falling asleep beside a girl under the stars in Quebec. Maybe well make it after all boys -
Moonlight
Our tongues forlorn with coils as
We lay below Thisbes tree.
Light spills into our eyes,
washed- in the harvest moon.
Water splashed to our necks,
unshorn hair abound to the dew.
The hollows of our mouths filled and flush with sweet,
ablush to swell in timid blooms.
Our chains rusted into dust in the fallows,
yet we sank still deeper through the grass.
Beheld to ever closer stars we rest. The fermement
sinks into the closeness of our cheeks,
and we are for and at once warm

[Anonymous No.13754354]

I am just gonna ask here

Your blade is dull, 4
And that you blame, 4
Yet within your skull, 5
Is but the same. 4

Am I allowed to do this? I tried making sure the meter is even within the corrosponding lines but there is no proper word combination I was able to come up with. If I leave it like this within this poem am I a pleb?

[Anonymous No.13754682]

>>13754354
Is there some specific reason you can't just say "Yet in your skull?"

[Anonymous No.13754826]

A song I have not yet set to music.

>Where The Buildings Fall Under Wrecking Balls

The men came in their bowler hats
And pinstripe suits with pins
Surveyed the site with some delight,
Stroked whiskers on their chins
Their driver waiting patiently
In stately horse and car
They put up signs and left for wine
And steak and fine cigars

Four weeks is what you get my friend
To up your sticks and leave
We gave you your fair warning
It’s progress, I believe
This land is ours, the court agrees
To do with as we please

You’re due no recompense for this
Your tenancy is void
Your inconvenience will not stop
The goal we strive towards
Welcome to the future friend
You’ll soon reap your rewards

As we knocked down the tenements
On Tallow Chandler Lane
The rats ran over cobblestones
Retreating to the drains
The last of the old residents
Stood watching in the rain
Deserted and displaced
By this industry of change

>>13754354
If you read it aloud it’s fine as the syllable stress is not on ‘yet’ but instead on ‘with’ in ‘within’.

I would change the last line it “It’s but the same though” or “It’s just the same”, “Is” doesn’t sound right.

[Anonymous No.13754974]

Its been a while since I've been on here, is what's his name, name fag "Kolstoy" or something still around? He was a gifted writer in all the wrong ways. If you're out there hope you're doing fine bro

[Anonymous No.13755022]

>>13754974
>He was a gifted writer in all the wrong ways
Elaborate

[Anonymous No.13755031]

>>13755022
Can't really remember, it was some elaborate DFW style shitposting

[Anonymous No.13755278]

>>13754826
Sounds like a simon and garfunkle song and I can see it being sang softly with acoustics in the back, with the final delivery meshing in with a humming of sorts as the music continues until it stops abruptly

Something like this but with a flare of sarcasm. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fXZyDtzDJMY
Overall I liked it.

>>13754682
>>13754826
Its >>13754354 btw
>Is there some specific reason you can't just say "Yet in your skull?"

Your blade is dull,
And that you blame,
Yet in your skull
it is the same

Not sure if I like it anymore then the previous although the syllables are fixed. So its preferab;e.

>If you read it aloud it’s fine as the syllable stress is not on ‘yet’ but instead on ‘with’ in ‘within’.

I would change the last line it “It’s but the same though” or “It’s just the same”, “Is” doesn’t sound right.
Your blade is dull, 4
And that you blame, 4
Yet within your skull, 5
It's just the same 4 / it Is the same

Perhaps a mix of both suggestions?

Your blade is dull,
And that you blame,
Yet in your skull,
it is the same / it's just the same.

Which of line 4 is better I do not know, they both sound good aloud. Thanks anons :]
Sorry couldn't offer better /crit/ but I am but a humble beginner in the world of writing so I can offer little insight other then aesthetic impression

[Anonymous No.13755330]

>>13755278
Thanks anon for the feedback. Funny you should say Simon and Garfunkel, 9/10 times when I write a song it’s folk genre but this one I’m not too sure how I want it to sound, will be collaborating with a friend once I have written all the lyrics to the album. Here’s the only complete song so far. https://soundcloud.com/neil-matthew-fox/an-angel-lies-here-waiting-for-me

[Anonymous No.13755385]

>>13752156
>Because they had to watch over others constantly since the beginning of humanity, they became selfless.
Do you realize the number of ways in which this is retarded? I mean setting aside muh evil woymn, you're speaking in terms of a Lamarckian genetic model.

[Anonymous No.13755416]

>>13755385
>you're speaking in terms of a Lamarckian genetic model.
And?

[Anonymous No.13755419]

>>13752156
What is this pseudoscientific bullshit? Is it from your manifesto?

Before you go on your shooting spree perhaps take a moment to consider whether you are full of hot air.

[Anonymous No.13755449]

>>13755330
Hmm after listening to that song and hearing your style I don'r think ">Where The Buildings Fall Under Wrecking Balls" would work as I imagined it in my mind it due too your rough / manly voice. [Which is a good thing] Country / Rock for sure.I would say. You are naturally geared towards the genre you posted. I hope you make it anon

[Anonymous No.13755563]

I have heard tales of flowers in fields
whose uprooted fibres dried out in the cold
I have heard tales of flowers in forests
who are choked for the sun before they grow old
I have heard laughter outside of the garden
I sit and wait each long day away
I have seen children stop by to look
I wonder what they think of in their brief,
quiet moments

In a garden there is little to do
except to sing and to think and to think
think, what is music to one who is still?
think, what is song to one who can’t leave?
I have heard that cedar makes a sweet, clear smell
when you crush it between your fingertips
It rushes like rivers and cools like mint
I’d like to know
if it’d work for my temperament.

She visited the edge of the garden once
her dress was like marigold petals in spring
slight greening among her silvery vines
she tapped at the window with something to sing
turned hours to minutes in passing of time

Life in a garden is unbearable waiting
I cannot tell you the time I have spent
time spent in waiting to see her again.

[Anonymous No.13755636]

>>13755563
>>13755449
Thanks anon, that’s very kind of you. My first album releases on Spotify next week.

>>13755563
This is really very good in places but I think it could use a bit of editing. If you cut down on the word repetition and perhaps delete a few dud lines that don’t flow as well. E.g. second verse I would cut to:

In the garden there is little to do
except to sing and to think
I have heard that cedar makes a sweet, clear smell
when you crush it between your fingertips
It rushes like rivers and cools like mint
I’d like to know
if it’d work for my temperament.

[Anonymous No.13755725]

>>13755385
>you're speaking in terms of a Lamarckian genetic model.
no i am not, and Lamarck was not really wrong

>appeal to authority
kill yourself

[Anonymous No.13755728]

>>13755419
you're going to be run out of your house and shot in the street like the animal you are

[Anonymous No.13755738]

>>13755563
this makes no fucking sense this is fucking trash you have no idea how nature works so stop trying to make analogies

I wonder what they think of in their brief,
quiet moments in the sunlight
I want children in my garden, oh
I want children inside me, I want my own children
I wanted to do things with them, to talk to them
I was afraid that my feelings would be denied
I wanted to make them proud by their looks
I was afraid my thoughts would be hurt
I wanted to make their skin glow, to make them feel warm
I was afraid that they might feel sick, sick to their stomachs
But the moment I thought it would seem
That that was not possible
I have had babies inside me, we have walked and
Troubled each other
We have talked together and fought together
And cried, we have cried

[Anonymous No.13755743]

>>13755738
What wonder does that fill them with
When they are filled with life
I have found myself longing
for the time when I wasn't so long gone
to find something that I had never known
I have been lonely
I have had feelings since I was a child
As I have learned so, I've found myself with
I have loved every single day, every single

feeling that I had in the world

I have had many wonderful adventures

And I was always happy

I have found my place

I'm so grateful

I've discovered a new garden

where I find a life that isn't so short

Where the sun does come in bright

[Anonymous No.13755749]

>>13755743
I have seen them sit and watch the light fall
and wonder if they will be
the ones to say the final good bye
I wonder which of my friends who died in the war
will be their last words
I wonder if that one is the one to be
in his last moment
I wonder from where did the world start
I wonder what they would have believed in
were they alive
I stare on at the strange shape in the distance
and see the eyes
I wonder and wonder and wonder
I feel the earth shifting beneath me
And it is time to turn for the day's beginning
I wonder if I will ever look up
I wonder if anyone will see me

[Anonymous No.13755753]

>>13755749
When I look into your eyes
I say that if you could
Would you rather eat of this,
or would you rather see this?
If any of you could
Would you rather feel this,
or would you rather see that?
I have seen the light on this day
I want to share with you
Your own stories
I have walked on this earth
With the trees for a while
Then the wind comes
And the sun rises
Then I see in front of me
The face of a man
In a purple dress
And his feet are shaking
And he is shouting
And he is moving around
And he is carrying himself
I have seen the light on this

[Anonymous No.13755786]

>>13755753
garbage

[Anonymous No.13755809]

>>13755786
it was made by an AI based on the post at the beginning of that chain of replies

[Anonymous No.13755829]

>>13752156
>nourishing
It is not a surprise that brainwashed sheeps couldn't understand you. Good job.

[Anonymous No.13755846]

>>13755385
Human culture develops by use-inheritance

[Anonymous No.13755860]

>>13755385
>in which this is retarded

learn how to write and try again kouhai

[Anonymous No.13755863]

>>13755809
Post link to the AI. Curious how it works.

[Anonymous No.13755949]

Seated on the green bungee-rope chair of my room's corner, I become impatient. The cell phone is placed at a distance from me, to avoid any urge to reach for the object of my anxiety and turn it on, all notifications disabled for the time being.

It's funny, people repeat the Biblical adage "patience is a virtue", but I see no reason why impatience is vicious, in fact, those dealing with impatience are the truly faithful. Biding time for something that may or may not come will always lead to impatience. Let's consider that a rule. Now, when one loses his patience, and enters this state of anxiety, he has only two realistic actions to choose from: Accept that what he is waiting for will never come, dispelling all needs of the aforementioned virtue or vice, or carry on in his vigil. Despite his time perception's strain, he truly believes that whatever object of attention he is waiting for is worth dedicating the mental energy required for impatience. So ironically, the feeling of impatience is truly the mark of the steadfast.

probably shit, let me know

[Anonymous No.13756598]

The sun bleeds pink over the Davis Mountains, as Wes Copeland speeds south down highway one-ten from El Paso. Miller Lite tallboys clutter the cup holders and passenger seat. Pink light paints the smooth brown truck like a sunburst Stratocaster. Red and blue lights hum in the rearview mirror about four miles back near the feeder for interstate ten.

The skinny streetwalker in the back seat rolls over after Cope hits a rock at a hundred miles an hour. Another man’s blood smears up the seat from her left breast and thick vomit drips like a leaky faucet from her mouth to the floorboards. Her skin is a buttermilk consistency with two yellow bag tenants underneath her Aryan eyes. Black blood tangles her blonde hair on the left side of her head and mats as a result of the friction between her face and a scrunched-up horse feed bag pillow.

“You look” Cope’s daughter starts “like The Stranger.” Referring to Sam Elliot’s character in Lebowski.

“I don’t have a mustache.” Cope replies.

“Still.” She chokes out.

[Anonymous No.13756621]

>>13752061

[Anonymous No.13756650]

>>13755738
thanks for the constructive criticism, you really outlined everything that was missing in the poem, please continue to contribute to criticism threads, you are very smart