/lit/ - Literature

[Anonymous No.2924504]

This is the horndog teenage girl from the other day.
I wrote some more bullshit, but no1curr probably because this one isn't dirty.

[Anonymous No.2924506]

I am not that girl She is only a part of me, reflected in a jumble of text on the computer screen, a small flash in the emotional timeline.
I wasn’t sure if walking past the source of my shame would get a rise out of me. It wasn’t anything, anything of him. You cannot be angry with an object . Only fools scream and tear up their cigarettes or purge their meals and blame pizza for their problems. I cannot be angry that he will never look me in the eye, that he will never notice me flustered for any other reason that being late. It’s my own fault for desiring something that’s hardly even tangible.
I have a lot of balls writing this in class. It was nothing more than a drop in my stomach. It only lasted a second. But that one moment can define an entire day’s worth of thoughts. I know I’m only haunted by this is because of the realization that my emotions can exist somewhere besides my body. The shock that this fictional world can live alongside the reality. I keep this alive and festering, even though it pains me so, because maybe it has a purpose: to drip out of my pen.
If this had never become words, it would have been forgotten soon enough. Just another vagary of my youth, fading quickly with time.
But I kept it from death. I marked it, and now it is real.
.

[Anonymous No.2924520]

Tits?

[Anonymous No.2924522]

>>2924506
That's not dirty, so I don't care.

also
"tear up their cigarettes" is good

also
mark it zero, smokey

[Anonymous No.2924527]

>>2924506
Repost the original bit!

[Anonymous No.2924531]

>>2924527
I changed a few things.

"I know this has probably been written about in a million different instances and no one really cares what I have to say, but I want to write about this. Maybe because it’s something I’m so familiar with, maybe because I actually love keeping it in my thoughts constantly. Who knows? But hopefully I can write about this before the emotion drains out of me. Or before my mother comes in here at 10:33 at night and yells at me and hopefully never ever reads any of this.
I am lustful. I am young, and apparently in our society that’s an excuse for just about anything. But I am young, and I am lustful. And It’s probably nowhere as severe as I think it is, but it’s always a dull throb within me.
I’ve felt this so many times before, and I don’t know why this time is anything special. Maybe it’s because after experiencing it so many times in vain I’ve still yet to keep myself from it. Maybe this time it’s different, more cynical from all the experiences.
I doubt it’s even anything really. I just look at him. He doesn’t even bother me much, as long as I’m busying myself with something or not too close to him. But I just look at him sometimes. Just. Just the way his body is.
I like men. I like men. I don’t know why I am so ashamed of that.
I don’t know if he’s naturally beautiful, or he’s just the showy peacock that gets all the attention. In another time and place, I would never be able to shake him from my thoughts. But it’s not that strange idol worship that I feel. I think it’s nothing but the pure lust. The stupid parts of my biology that feel like torturing me for one more aspect of my life, the one so unattainable it’s nothing more than pure taunting on nature’s part."

[Anonymous No.2924532]

Just his thinness, that thinness. And the slim middle, the narrow hips. The way his clothes fit him, taut in the right places against the muscle. Long legs…
Oh god. Oh god. Stop before you give yourself a heart attack.
Why do I always have to go there?
Is it even that? What is it? Maybe I just appreciate his beauty. Maybe that’s all it is.
But who am I kidding? I want all of those things, those stupid things. To smell him, to run my hands along him in places I don’t even really want to think about, to know him.
Oh god.
I act like I’m the only person in the world that’s ever felt this. But really how many kids do you know that write shameful smut about some boy they sit behind in class? How many kids do you know who have to go back to school the next day and see the object of their lust and be reminded that they had unchaste thoughts about them the night before?
This is not at all what I planned this “writing” to be.
I want him. And I doubt he’ll ever know or care, so maybe there’s nothing truly sinful about it.
And it’s only when I let my eyes wander or when I can’t block out his bright tenor voice.
And I’m sure many others have looked on him the same way.
Just as long as I keep myself in check, I’ll be fine. No one said being virtuous meant being perfect.

[Anonymous No.2924539]

Bullshit is right.

[Anonymous No.2925158]

I didn't know Gore Vidal was a horndog teenage girl, but it doesn't surprise me

[Anonymous No.2925976]

No such thing as sin.

[satan !!1Fa7LzeI6u8 No.2925991]

i could not tolerate this if you were fat and ugly

[OP No.2927016]

Could possibly be compromising my anonymity

but just found out today that I have to walk with the homecoming court alongside "the object of my shame".

Yeah, it's only for like two minutes, but still. HIGHSCHOOL DRAMA U GIUSE.

[Anonymous No.2927049]

terribly boring

[Anonymous No.2927063]

>>2925158
That's reincarnation for you man.