You die tonight. Share your last letter to the world

I wish I was born a girl, yes I still remember THAT thing which happened when I was 5

I just got a confy idea. If Veeky Forums wasn't a slow board, I would create a daily thread sharing a theme to write about.
Like:
"Write a story where, night after night, people disappear from a village"
or
"Write a story titled: The eternal incandescent."
or
"Write a story about a person who does housework."

I love her more than anything. At last I won't burden her.

lmao cuckboy

wtf i really regret dying

I remember being this young and edgy

my one regret is not having gf

If this does happen I hope someone looks at my Google docs because there's a really long poem in there I've been adding to for four years and it functions best as a suicide note anyway.

I only have one regret: That I made so many stupid mistakes in life.

By the time you are reading this, I'm already dead - although reasons as to why baffle me.

The first thing: there's no poem or a novel here, because I can't properly write anything in scope of one day, and even if I could, the best text in the world would still need proper editing. So it's a same that all you've read of me is two publications in a minor journal that I'm not too happy with, but hey, what's the point of regretting the inevitable. Second thing: I love you all, and fortunately I lack in things unsaid, so expect no revelations here. I'd be more melodramatic if this were a suicide note, but it's not, so I fail to muster the emotions. Anyway, thanks Mom, hope you will not be too heartbroken after my unexplainable demise.

About that. What the hell? It's not an illness because then timeframe wouldn't be do rigid. I am devoid of enemies that would want to end me, as I am scarcely an important person. Yet the feeling of having little hours left persists. Get some investigators on my case, although I lack hope that you can arrest a malign demiurge - my death seems to be his idea.

Goodbye, I suppose.

I would leave a small hastily written note along these lines

>I'm by myself and somebody is banging at the door. I don't know who he is but he's trying to look through the windows. I'm going to

That'll make things interesting

I would leave a letter to my mother telling her that whatever mistakes I made were my own, and in the few times I succeeded it was because of her. I guess I would also include that I'm better off dead, so they should just move on and not think about it too much.

I've lived a virtuous life so don't worry about me being reborn as a woman

Memento Mori

nothing
i'd fade away in silence

Love.
It's the answer. But if it flows only one way, it is better to be without it at all.
For that is what killed me.

this LP is fucking kickass by the way.

F

Unrequited love is pain the creates art. To love all without worry of reciprocation is joy that creates art

They killed me, avenge my death

Considering that's what made me write that post, you are correct.

But I am neither creative enough, nor strong of will enough, for it to be true of myself.
I wouldn't be here to type itt today were it not for the fact I forgot to turn the safety off on a gun last year, and that small delay allowed others to stop me.

I didn't deserve this. I didn't deserve any of this.

what happened user?

What is a poet? An unhappy man who conceals profound anguish in his heart, but whose lips are so fashioned that when sighs and groans pass over them they sound like beautiful music. His fate resembles that of the unhappy men who were slowly roasted by a gentle fire in the tyrant Phalaris' bull—their shrieks could not reach his ear to terrify him, to him they sounded like sweet music. And people flock about the poet and say to him: do sing again; Which means, would that new sufferings tormented your soul, and: would that your lips stayed fashioned as before, for your cries would only terrify us, but your music is delightful.

Except instead of music, I've only produced the equivalent of literary farting sounds.

Based

>It is impossible to separate a cube into two cubes, or a fourth power into two fourth powers, or in general, any power higher than the second, into two like powers. I have discovered a truly marvelous proof of this, which this margin is too narrow to contain.

Trolling geeks for centuries to come.

Alas, my time has come. It was short and utterly meaningless. I welcome the nothingness of oblivion. Goodbye, cruel world.

...

Just keep trying.

With these letters I try to best death but am undone
I have no more song to sing nor thought to share
was ever as a buzzing bee, bothering farmers as they worked

I must say something cynical
I must balance with something loving
I must end on something hopeful

A message from the grave for the living:
carry on

Sorry for the mess.

I'm just going to go ahead and say it's a pun on carry on and carrion since nobody will figure that out

I'm sorry father. Tell mother that i love her

you stole that

Hopefully things go better wherever I go from here

yolo nigga

lmao suck a dingos donga ya fucked cunts

Fucking finally.

Mother I've tried please believe me, I'm doing the best that I can. I'm ashamed of the things I've been put through, I'm ashamed of the person I am.

Crawling in my skin
These wounds they will not heal
Fear is how I fall
Confusing what is real

There's something inside me that pulls beneath the surface
Consuming, confusing
This lack of self-control I fear is never ending
Controlling, I can't seem

To find myself again
My walls are closing in (Without a sense of confidence
I'm convinced that there's just too much pressure to take)
I've felt this way before
So insecure

Crawling in my skin
These wounds they will not heal
Fear is how I fall
Confusing what is real

Discomfort endlessly has pulled itself upon me
Distracting, reacting
Against my will, I stand beside my own reflection
It's haunting how I can't seem

To find myself again
My walls are closing in (Without a sense of confidence
I'm convinced that there's just too much pressure to take)
I've felt this way before
So insecure

Crawling in my skin
These wounds they will not heal
Fear is how I fall
Confusing what is real
Crawling in my skin
These wounds they will not heal
Fear is how I fall
Confusing, confusing what is real

(There's something inside me that pulls beneath the surface
Consuming)
Confusing what is real
(This lack of self-control I fear is never ending
Controlling)
Confusing what is real

I love you so much, mom. I love you so much.

Veeky Forums is to blame

what album is pic related a cover of?

I loved, I lived, I suffered greatly, and will see you all again soon

Patrician

lmao cuckboy

kek

WILL YOU NEVER LET ME REST

Like a Dog!

ill leave behind a manifesto that the media and FBI will quote out of context to demonize me and my day of vengeance

>I love you so much, mom. I love you so much.

huehue

I’m sorry, user, because of how you come off and I feel for you, but you’re prose is awful.

>by the time you are reading this
There are tons of ways to write this kind of opener, but you managed to pick the one that sounds most robotic/autistic/unnatural.

>reasons as to why baffle me
>the first thing
>in the scope of one day
>what’s the point of regretting the inevitable
>muster
>devoid of enemies that would want to end me
>malign demiurge

Good fucking taste in metal, dude.

I hope to not revive in the human form again. Thank you all, it was nice anyway.

I have proof, which I will now present, of Hillary Clinton's links to the I-

Now that I'm gone, you can stop doing all that annoying and useless stuff.

No one would be able to read this because this whole world literally won't exist after I'm dead

I'm sorry. You're clearly not my best creation.

So...Hindu?

No ragretz

-user

But aquaman, you can't marry a girl without gills. You're from two different worlds.

don't touch my hard drive, fucking cunts

I'm sorry. I don't know why I'm sorry but I am. I'm sorry I wasn't strong enough. I'm sorry I wasn't wise enough. I'm sorry I couldn't make something to give to the world. I'm sorry mom. I'm sorry dad. I'm sorry brothers. I'm sorry aunties, uncles, cousins, and friends. I wish I had more time, but I don't. Forgive me. Pray for me. Read my novel.

I made an effort not to fart in front of you.
You were free with your farts.
And I think less of you for it.
Goodbye.

I have not done my best. I barely understand what has driven me to this. Yet I feel compelled to do this. Perhaps it is nature, perhaps nurture, perhaps something else, I couldn't say if I wanted to. Whatever it be, I am ashamed of it.
Publish what I have written, if you'd like to. Maybe it will bring some good. Give my possessions to who you will. They mean little to me now.
Goodbye. I'm sorry I wasn't stronger.

best post itt

what if he's really 200 years old?

nice oxymoron, moron

why would someone write that?

To whoever is reading this I ask that you continue my legacy. Stored on the computer next to me are massive amounts of interracial and cuckold porn. The password is: password. You must regularly spam the website Veeky Forums.org, a strange anime forum, with these images and webms. I have left instructions on how to avoid bans and the best times to post. Also included are details and access to a bank account which receives regular payments from bitcoins into dollars from my secure bitcoin wallet. If you do not follow my wishes, my colleagues who frequent the website will cut off the money going to the account. I offer you a chance for a lifetime free of worry. If you are consistent with your work my colleagues will contact you with further information on how to achieve greater rewards. If you spread the information of this letter to anyone else there will be dire consequences. I hope you make the right choice.

Apologies will never be enough but Im still sorry

Hope I'll be at least a 6

Top tier banter

>killing yourself on the verge of the apocalypse
would normies actually do this?

I refuse to speak, because I refuse to let you have the last word.

I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived. I did not wish to live what was not life, living is so dear; nor did I wish to practise resignation, unless it was quite necessary. I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life, to live so sturdily and Spartan-like as to put to rout all that was not life, to cut a broad swath and shave close, to drive life into a corner, and reduce it to its lowest terms