Some of the finest prose I've ever written has come late at night in the form of spontaneous autistic retaliation...

>some of the finest prose I've ever written has come late at night in the form of spontaneous autistic retaliation against some shitposting anonymous fuck on a Cambodian Silk Trading website with a clover logo
>so much time wasted
>i could have made my debut by now, just using shitposts alone
>all my work, lost, like tears in the rain

>>all my work, lost, like tears in the rain
Highly doubt your "prose" is any good

create characters that you can argue with and with each other

That was stupid of you.

Its a parody of a bladerunner quote you fucking retard.

Nooooooooo waaaaaaaay

>When 16 year olds think they are being clever on Veeky Forums

You said that a quote he didnt make meant his prose was bad.

>he said while the anger and frustration rose as the realization washed over him that, although OP was, indeed, a faggot, the post sang true. For it forced him to make the choice. Perhaps the eternal choice all God's creatures must one day make. To reply or not to reply? For if he so chooses to reply, he's forced to admit, somewhere deep in the foundation of his soul, that the OP is right. And that he, himself, God forgive him to admit, is also a faggot.

This physically pained me to read. Please never write anything ever again.

>for what did it pain you to read? Perhaps the pain did’th come from within? And as you looked upon my prose, a great envy rose up within you. An envy with bounds that ended at the imagined self you went to bed dreaming of waking up as. But the dreams would never ring true. You’d never amount to those somnolent visions.

>forsooth that wit that sought to flame the rage of many, hath but quenched the fire of his own spark, for wherein doth he fan the flame of his deceit but with his own fire?

>He wasn't lying when he told the other how much it pained him to read his words. He wasn't lying when he told the other to never write anything ever again. But why? The anger spilled out of him so quick. So easy. As if he were a practiced professional. A prodigy. If he had just applied himself to other things as he did his retorts, who knows where his life would have led him. Maybe there is a professional shitposter competition? A grand Olympics where the finest and quickest naysayers meet, once every four years, to deal blow after blow until the other's soul has shattered? Shattered like an ancient blade he remembered from his children's tales. Alas, he knew of none. But it still hurt. And he still hate. So much he was forced to ask himself the meaning, the reason of these words. For, the more he thought about them, the more they did not seem the same as when he first smirked and clicked post. There, in the dim dark of his mother's basement he stood in front of the mirror and said the words out loud. The horror! The sound! He recoiled and fell back, aghast at his own image. And now he saw. The true. A perspective he only half remembered in a dream. He was a faggot.

>And he still hate.
Truly, a masterpiece

I too feel especially creative when doing Veeky Forums docs. I just feel a lot freer. Wish there was a project right now.

A shitposter you are
That's a mighty fine trade
But this thread that you launched
Well, it won't get you laid

Naked Raygun made a better run of it:
>And so it became that time was not on their side
>And yest it remains until we breathe our last breath
>Like tears in rain - there is no shame in your death

I have read your prose aloud, dear OP, and my friend, a fine lady, has laughed along with me. Forsooth thou shall be famous one day, and I would hope that here, in the depths of the interwebs, one may look back and say that today, OP, was not a faggot, but merely an autist.

god this is bad. please stop

>Aye, your lady does sound fine. I'd make her mine, if I were so inclined. Alas, I have not the time. O' well. C'est la vie, mon cheri. Thank you for indulging my wanking, my seeds. Maybe one day they'll grow into trees.

She said, and I quote, 'I am most pleased with that, and that your wanking do not disgust me'

>Believe it or not, dear reader, that was all it took for your narrator to fall in love. Leaning back on his couch, he looked up at the spinning fan and wondered, no, dreamed of what she looked like. Blonde...no, auburn. Yes. Auburn hair that fell just below her shoulders. Her eyes wide and blue. No, green. No, blue. Yes. Blue. Not the bright blue of middle afternoon hue but the late afternoon blue that's just begun to fade as the twilight waves hello and approaches with a big grin from off in the distance. He thought about her sucking him. Begging. "Please," she choked. "Please give me more of your shitposts..." He fell back to reality but feverishly stroked his cock, trying to keep it up. "Please don't leave me," he cried to his imagination, hoping it could do anything to stop the thought of her gone.

She loved it. Keep going!

>The cabinets! O' God! Have mercy, Lord! Those cabinets infested the American landscape in the early 90's like a virus. Nay, a cancer. Malignant of the worst order. The cheap of the cheap. Formica combined with ply. Ugh. An aesthete's worst nightmare. Unavoidable and yet overbearing. Everywhere, they followed him. Everywhere. From college apartment to college apartment and every divorcee's love nest in between.

Those cabinets...

Don't feel bad, I spent years neeting and shitposting on Veeky Forums and when I started school back up it was raining As, and I'm pretty sure I have Veeky Forums to thank for sharpening my writing, reasoning, and rhetoric. Start with the greeks john green infinite kek shitposting zone is why I'm transferring to a top tier uni.

>every divorcee's love nest in between.
Bruh if that ain't me rn

Blue haired girl: 'newfag. Didn't ask for tits or gtfo'

Does she think all Veeky Forums is /b/ or something? Or has all the blood left her brain to engorge her oversized clit?

she literally does