Tfw pale white sky with a brisk cold wind here at the world renowned University of Oxford

>tfw pale white sky with a brisk cold wind here at the world renowned University of Oxford
>tfw first lecture in around 30 minutes, when my intellect will expand even wider and gain more territory from my adversary The Truth
>tfw my phone started vibrating late last night while I was reading some Byron in bed and almost crying due to the beauty of life, more specifically life here at the University of Oxford
>my now officially declared upper class girlfriend said she was walking home from an old private school friend's college and was passing my own college
>tfw I tiptoed down my hallway in my long dark vintage coat and then down the steps towards the college entrance, much like Harry Potter does on his many secret wanderings around Hogwarts beneath his invisibility cloak
>tfw my now officially-declared upper class girlfriend was standing with two other girls who curtsied and shook my hand before stepping back and watching with what I can only imagine to be jealousy as she nuzzled against my chest and I clasped her upper body in a most roguish manner
>tfw we kissed briefly and wished each other good night, then continued to repeat "Goodnight!" to one another as she walked away, until it became too uncivilized to do so due to the fact most people were surely asleep
>tfw last night I dreamed that I was in fact a student at Hogwarts (it's hard to tell the difference at times between that fictional institution and the magical one I currently attend!) and that for some reason I had been tasked with rescuing Hermione from the Slytherin common room
>I did indeed rescue her by breaking open a window with a spell and then flying her up to Gryffindor Tower with the Slytherins in pursuit shooting green spells into the air all around us as she wrapped her arms around my belly like Amelie does in the final scene of the movie Amelie
>tfw I woke up and immediately interpreted this dream (correctly) as symbolizing my rescuing my now officially declared upper class, Elite, biologically profound, well-mannered girlfriend from the clutches of the more boorish elements of the upper class
>late this afternoon after a busy day of lectures we plan on meeting up in one of our ancient dormitories previously inhabited by Great Minds (each with a Wikipedia page) to watch a scary movie, or perhaps an installment (or two! (you never know!)) in the Harry Potter film series


Double, double but alas no toil nor trouble here at the University of Oxford, except the kind of mental and intellectual toil expected of someone whose genetic superiority results in their attending the world's most prestigious university.

Are you celebrating Halloween in a manner most literary Veeky Forums? Which book(s) will you be reading today?

Syllabus?

The story needs some suspense to keep me hooked.

Suspense entails risk and the potential for harm (mental or physical). I'm afraid that such a life is not desirable for those of us who live lives dictated by our intellect, rather than our base impulses. Those of us may be (incorrectly in my opinion) described as "Bourgeoisie" are hated for that very reason, as our lives tend to be comfortable, consistently pleasurable and utterly safe from the so-called "highs and lows" of a life wherein financial insecurity, romantic infidelity and moral depravity are the defining features. I can only predict that the next three years (at least) will be, for me, and hopefully for my now officially declared high-value girlfriend, a period of utter contentment.

I went to Oxford and it annoys me how not magical it seems to me.

I too am a resident of this hallow'd city,
And know each side both foul and pretty,
While OP's claims his life is the latter,
I have taken time to query this matter,
Ah yes, dear stranger, I have observed thy dealings,
With the girl for whom thy bells are peeling,
And to another sight have I been witness,
And may my eyes now serve as litmus,
To the fancy tale so-far confessed,
By the OP and his dearly blessed,
If the mods but only grant,
A life to this thread if only scant,
I shall explain to you dear reader,
Why the OP is a most sad misleader.

>my adversary, The Truth
Indeed.

In the gutter was I born,
Destined for a life forlorn,
And only over twenty years,
Did I see what a life of poverty incurs,
And thus did I with all my might,
Begin to read both day and night,
Up at dawn and awake through th' dark,
Allowing every book to make its mark,
Upon my intellect then dulled,
By a life of where all joy was culled,
But to return to the matter so close at hand,
Of OP and his journey to the Holy Land,
Of Oxford fair and its ancient towers,
A land he claims where ugliness cowers,
Well then may I ask "Dear Sir",
If could tell me one small thing about "Her",
Is it not true that last night in fact,
'twas you who in darkness tracked,
This maiden most fair to some strange college,
Where you found her drunk without your knowledge,
Singing loud some songs unknown,
Till the surrounding crowd of gentlemen had grown?

>Oxbro posts

hear hear

I literally can't express how much better my life has been since I attended Oxford. I went to a state school and gradually became the stereotypical moody, withdrawn sensitive type who both despises the quality of his immediate culture and feels a weird pride for having been raised in a sort of anti-intellectual and brutal environment. I was all set to take my Russell Group humanities BA and spend my life working as an anonymous, insecure wageslave forever thankful of being offered a job and forever too insecure to pursue my creative ambitions. The chip on my shoulder had become something of a wedge, and I felt too out of place regardless of my environment, too resentful and bitter to even attempt to make it in the artistic world. Then I finally applied for Oxford and got in to study an English MA, with reassurance that should I work hard enough a career in academia or within one of Oxford's affiliated companies would be almost guaranteed. I turned up as apprehensive as usual, and the first few days were spent regretting my decision and desperately feigning a cultured personality. But then I realized that the people there were just interesting and that the snobbery and exclusivity I had anticipated was just a myth borne out of my working class upbringing. I've since graduated, having spend the year dining in grand halls with groups of interesting people, dating several girls (one of whom, a petite Russian whose family traces back to the aristocracy, is now my fiancee). I work four days a week at a publishing company and earn £38k a year. I regularly meet up with friends from my college and visit Oxford for nights out and for meetings with my professors.

Should I know what you are talking about?
I've no inkling!
From where come these strange rumours that you tout?
I assure you that your claim is wilting
I admit that yes last night I wandered
Quite contently down Oxford's fine side-streets
And indeed I may have happened upon
One or two unfamiliar colleges
But my girlfriend alas I did not meet
Which immediately undermines your con
And the lies for which your mind forages!

chuckled lightly

As someone who is genuinely at Oxford these posts brighten up my mornings.

Thanks for the shitposts Oxbro

How predictably you shift the blame,
To my poor malnourished brain,
Which can't tell truth from fiction,
Lie from fact nor law from conviction,
Yet is it not true that from certain vantage,
One such as I may manage,
To peer through the windows of your quads,
And see within your cherished bawd,
Dancing upon a bottle-covere'd table,
On legs both bare and visibly unstable,
And might indeed a photo have been taken,
Of she for whom sobriety had long forsaken?

I went to Oxford and it was actually pretty magical tbphwy

>rhyming colleges with forages
kek. You're alright, Oxbro.

i was more of a harvard guy myself. it was pretty cool.

>Are you celebrating Halloween in a manner most literary Veeky Forums? Which book(s) will you be reading today?

The day started with reading my Dungeons and Dragons 3.5 books for pleasure and continues now with me writing dramatic scenes full of brilliant dialogue for a living. Feels good to be an adult, OP. Try it.

Wish I had time to read for pleasure. I've got an essay due for later today about the viking raids and settlements in Britian.
>t. Oxford history undergrad who gets set two essays a week

its just a university, nice buildings though.

Though a photograph may indeed be shot,
It can't be said
That the image captured is worth a jot
It looks like envy has got to your head
Because on the role of film you've developed
May be any girl attending Oxford
In drunken states girls take on a certain look
When their brain by alcohol enveloped
And drunkenness weigh on them like a maud
And so dear stranger I fear you're mistook!

Looks like Oxbro has a nemesis.

I'm sure you meant you have an essay due, or an essay is due. "Got" is African-Americanese, or sometimes Italian, in reference to murder by gunshot. Also yes it is nice to browse lazily for monster facts.

You know what, I'm actually glad that you called me out on the "got" instead of "have". I shall remember this.

STOP TALKING TO ME AND DO YOUR HOMEWORK user.

I'm yelling at you out of love.

Include this in the screencap

It seems that in my haste,
I made a poeto-structural mistake,
Let this then be my response,
To your post in which so many lies are ensconced:
The photographs may indeed have lied,
About the identity of she who danced inside,
But why not take a momentary gander,
At this one of many pictures,
Don't you recognize this street?
Down which last night your feet,
Echoed loudly as to your room your ran.
Where many a Wikipedia-verified Great Man,
Have bedded girls more rich than you,
Who for most of your life among peasants stewed,
And is this not th very street,
Along which your shoes did beat,
As tears fell and cries called out,
Cursing the girl whose decency she did openly flout?
Take a closer look and I predict,
That any doubts will be eclipsed,
And in their place an unwelcome truth,
That to the truth of last night you are not aloof!

Dear Sir what evidence you may possess,
Phony or not,
Will not lead to my loving her any less,
And within days this night will have been forgot.
If she wishes to celebrate her youth,
Something which is granted us only once,
Then why should I complain or intervene,
Should I find her drunk on costly vermouth?
In Oxford I've resided only months,
I have years and years to cherish my queen!

Are you the OP of the original thread? If so, it looks like you don't get why it worked in the first place. Making it a repeated thread ruins it.

I fucking love this board. It has its moments.