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/lit/ - Literature

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3227735 No.3227735[DELETED]  [Reply] [Original]

>that love-spiel that you wrote as an inexperienced teenager

Post it.

>> No.3227742

>implying I have ever experienced love

>> No.3227740

I destroy daily all reminders of the past that do not have obvious merit.

>> No.3227745

>AY girl, when you gonna let me tap that?

>> No.3227762

I have so much shit of this kind...

But I must say that my very first poem, which I wrote when I was 4 years old is surprisingly good.

None of it is in English though and I dare not to translate it.

>> No.3227766

>>3227740
So, everything?

Don't laugh too much, guys. This was about an ex-gf who I'd recently found out went to my university. It got tired of it pretty quickly so it's incomplete.

"With eyes on the ground and feet marching independently of me, I look up once in a while thinking I'd caught a glimmer of you. A warm shimmer from the sun's rays reflecting off wavy auburn hair, the unbecoming way you walked, the slight curvature to your lean back and stooped shoulders that radiated affected indifference to all that is external of you. Your features are manifested in other woman of similarly appearance. Solipsism is your dominant philosophy. And yet...what man would let the agonizing curiosity within him persist unsatiated? Fated to fail, I anxiously dreaded the days when the cracks would show, the ornate plaster would deteriorate and the unattended and hastily concealed structure would be revealed. And yet...who would be bold enough as to call me foolish? Are we not all recidivists at some point in our lives, be it money, crime, or passion?"

>> No.3227776

>>3227762
Post it. It's actually impressive that you were writing at age 4.

>> No.3227790

>being this self-conscious

Come on /lit/. Post something embarrassing.

>> No.3227793

>>3227790
I've never written anything like that. Sorry

>> No.3227806

I never wrote any love spiel, but I certainly DID write like shit as an inexperienced teenager. I'll see if I can't dig some up.

>> No.3227809

>>3227793
>I've never written anything

FTFY

>> No.3227814

>>3227766
>Solipsism is your dominant philosophy

I-I tried Anon, but: HAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAH

>> No.3227825

>>3227766
>So, everything?
Mostly, yes. Including chat logs and pictures and all that kind of stuff. I've habituated myself to an indifference towards the past, but it has turned into a vehement dislike and urge for destruction.

>> No.3227828

>>3227814
lol I'm not surprised. Thankfully no one else will ever read it.

>> No.3227853

What's the matter, /lit/? Afraid to bruise your fragile ego?

>> No.3227857

>>3227853
Stop bumping your thread. /lit/ is slow. Provoking like that is not helping, it just makes the thread kind of sad for you, OP.

I for one have nothing digitalized from when I was a teenager, so that's my excuse.

>> No.3227902

Now, as before, I didn't write any love stuff. When I was in love, I was too busy jerking off or making out to write. When I made time to write, I was tired and angry as fuck.
------
You’d think after looking in the mirror for so long you’d notice a few things about yourself
Or are you just a selectively blind cunt who cannot see what would harm you?
And it turns out you are!
And it turns out your eyes are broken
In that your eyes don’t exactly fail you
But they succeed in ways that hurt you
In the long run at least because let’s face it you have good enough eye sight to see the long run
And if you did have eye sight good enough to see the long run you’d see the long run long gone.

I wonder how far back that mirror reflects
I wonder how far back you can see in that piece of glass you can’t pull yourself away from
Can you see back to when you weren’t such a slob?
To when you weren’t such a bastard? A sloth? A fucking slug?
Of course you can’t because deep down you know that you were always these things.
You haven’t changed a goddamned bit and you’re ashamed of it.
Ashamed of it!

>> No.3227904

>>3227902
Then you go try to rationalize it.
Then you go try to make it out so you’re not that bad.
And you do and you feel just snazzy about your rotten self for a few days
By telling yourself that the world isn’t changing and no one else is changing so why should you
You don’t escape that sick feeling though
It always comes back in a big way, strutting through the door like a parade of exes better off
Flagrantly showcasing to you why you’re not the bastion of whatever it is you think you are
You’re not what you think you are and you know that we know that you know it
So just stop it for fuck’s sake and pick yourself up

And now the mirror’s gone and broken itself on the ground
So much for self reflection
But you’re sure that you can see yourself in the pieces and you scrounge to make them fit together.
Your vanity becomes like once you see bits of shattered you in your face
Drawing blood from the visage of the pinnacle of whatever it was you thought you were but knew you weren’t
No looking away though, no looking for a clean up, just looking at the you bleeding your face and filthy on the ground

Finally someone comes ‘round and picks you up for your narcissistic self
Low that disgust is your savior, low that even that’s higher than you
Low that it can pity you and no else.
Pity turns hatred rapid as you can’t cooperate
As you can’t see what they want you to be
Can’t see what you need you to be
They try to give you new eyes but your lids are shut so tight
Tighter than the fucking lips of a stoic snarky secret keeper
And they give up because you’ve proven not worth it
You’ve proved so far beyond worth that it would be less of a stretch to find artistic value in child pornography

Inbetween scavenged cigarette butts and masturbation you still find time to look at the mirror.

>> No.3227929

I don't know what to say
Im already out of words
But I'll make some up anyway
I'll just pretend I have some courage

I gave you my soul
Put it into a bowl
Gave you my soul
Said I don't mind the toll

And she takes it with her
She takes it with her
And the flowers wither
She takes it with her

Your leaves fall
Yet you still stand tall
You stay closed shut
cause in your past you were open too much

Can you hear me
Can you hear me
I hope you hear me
I'm speaking clearly

And she takes it with her
She takes it with her
And then I whisper
She takes it with her

You stand in the sand
You refuse a helping hand
I know most people can't
But I think I can understand

Can you hear me
I hope you hear me
Please don't fear me
Please stay near me

And She takes it with her
And so I whisper
She takes it with her
The flowers wither

But that's okay
it's okay
are you okay?
cause I'm afraid

I don't know what to seek
I don't know what to find
No matter what comes my way
It's still you thats always on my mind

Open your eyes
Look at the sky
Just open your eyes
I'll help you fly

And she takes it with her
the flowers wither
She takes it with her
And I whisper
She takes it with her
afloat on rivers
She takes it with her
It makes me shiver
She takes it with her

>> No.3227932

>>3227929
oh god reading it makes me cringe haahahaha

>> No.3227953

>>3227929
Oh Anon, that's awful. Love you for posting it though.

>> No.3229848

>>3227929
Bumping for more stuff like this.

>> No.3229852

>>3227929

I lost it at 'bowl'

solid gold

>> No.3229857

>>3227904
I like it

>> No.3229874

this must be a thing that everybody does. oh god it hurts

To hold a love within you for so long
As hunted songbird hides its song
And stymies voice, for want of pride
And want of choice, and both denied
And greater shame but yet to come
Sonorous there comes the hum

Of whistling through the sunny glade
The hummingbird shifts through the shade
The marvel and the face of truth
Does not the burning passions sooth
But alighting on the perch and mind
The conscience cannot hope to find
Recourse of wont, or though it brief
a single second of relief

What mad god yet pulls the strings
and shifts the wants of living things
And drives them deep to such despair
bereft of joy but not of care

What manic and omnipotent-
god drives me to grandiloquent-
odd ramblings on matters-
that matter not when we are at
that stretch of road
which goes yet on
and though the ode
when it is gone
may be forgot
and not go on
We yet besot
by pretty eyes and features fair-
hold comfort not within us there
for tears that have been sorely shed
have surely shown: the songbird’s dead.

>> No.3229908

Fuck you for making me remember this.

Never before have I encountered such radiant beauty. In truth, I am no stranger to the female form in any capacity, but aesthetic appeal alone has its limits. That is science, [girl’s name] is art. The interior and that surrounding it, the aura of elegance and class, that smile, that face, her thin womanly figure, always just out of reach. She makes one believe in things they never otherwise would, make promises to nobody about things never to pass. She is the definition of lovely in every sense. In fact, unlike every other appealing girl I encounter in real life or in a digital format, I want to be with her.

[girl’s name] is light in all things; blue eyes, pale skin, thin and fragile like priceless china. I have made physical contact but once, a dropped paper returned to her hand. I resolve to talk to her more, to prioritize her above all else in the surrounding area, never swear in her presence, to make myself appear cool and not-at-all stuffy, humble, talk about her interests, gravitate towards her, never appear flustered or offended, yet classy in my actions. I do not deserve her, but I will do what I must. Regress back her religion of lies and ignorance, in essence making a deal with the devil himself. Anything for her. Since I have no connection to Christianity, I may as well convert to Mormonism. That’s an idea worth considering. It would be difficult, but it would certainly be a way.

>> No.3229919

>inb4 white knight faggot

I have learned the error of my ways... also its really bad

The blithe, pristine dolls in the corner of the room corrode under the rotten corruption coming from the grimy, coarse dolls.
Why must I live without a doll for even a day?
I need something to care for but those lifeless, broken dolls want to drag me down, down to their level, down to depression.
All I want is a beautiful doll to care for and rip from the enveloping unhappiness of the dirty, jealous dolls.
The dolls that reside in the cob-webbed corner.
Thats NOT where my doll deserves to dwell.
I shall save her and make her safe.

>> No.3229936

>>3229919
That's... strange. That's very strange.

>> No.3230118

Eh, I suppose (gayfag):

-

We are what my father has made us as to be…

I found a soldier, he was not wounded by the dark, he tasted of blood and such putrid agony when I tasted his weeping as my own, “don’t save me” I whispered, I wanted to die once, it’s okay, “I’ve been ready” – for too long, and he kissed me harsher. I cried. Please forgive what I am – it is your folly.

“Oh, let’s shout at the sun, ‘don’t torch us, I’m done, I don’t need you’, cried Man, ‘I am independent, I am the master of nature, rename yourself,’ or leave this, for this is a moment – and I’d rather the rain..” and we died cursing the light of heaven, no bang, never a bang. But dewed eyelids over a silenced weep.

-

Note that the point of that piece was to write spontaneously, and without intention, and to write something that nobody else would ever read. Sorry, teenage-me.

>> No.3230137

>>3229919
Did you grow up to be a serial killer?