New Write What's On Your Mind

Depends how long it is. If it's a novel you should be good, but if its a short story or a poem, you best not.

Into the misery, the dread and de facto of moral turpitude, I worked my hand at some of the most insipid and trivial bullshit ever. The fries, screaming with every coarse pop of oil: I place them in the tray, have them crisp in fifteen minutes, then leave them to dry. Then while I'm working away at the patties, I dip them back in until they're a golden brown. The burgers, smiling at me in some sort of joissance gestalt: the grill, the flame, the sauce; all of them have to be neatly operated and handled with the most diligent care. At three hundred fifty degrees, I preheat the grill, then I wipe the grill down with olive oil, slice the gaps with barbecue sauce mixed with charcoal. The sauce is a lemon-based saute of cayenne and sea salt, with a little brown sugar; this i let sit under the cheese and over the patty for two minutes before moving it to the back--away from the flame.

I hate cooking. If there were any moment, in human existence, any defining and polarizing epiphany that could clarify the point I'm trying to make, it's this: cooking is hell. And there can be no confusion about the flames.

After I read a poem with a delightful rhythm, I start to write stuff that sounds good to my ears. I also read things as if there's poetic value to them. Am I the only one?

it's probably been like one month; if I make timestamps now, I dont think anyone could get something in a magazine too quick and my timestamp will be before that

lol I just made a medium account and copied and pasted what I put on critique threads so there's proof of my authorship

Who is Arthur Sackler?

The hound cunt was backed up by the diner's acryllic upholstery, caked so bad it was going rigid, making her oily hair look all the more limper. She was fidgeting with a ciggie and rotations of the tobacco cylinder were so fast under her fickle fingers that I could think of nothing but whether she is going to fumble that pacifier on the linoleum floor. Which was looking like it would need a wash, and I stated it.

'It needs a wash.' I wanted to give it more empasis but I hadn't spoken for the better part of the morning, not since saying thank you to the hot dog matron and the words hung flat in the air.
'What'? She was either coy or despondent, I could not tell. 'What did you say?' Definitely coy.
'It needs a wash, the floor does. And your hair needs it as well, I want to scrub it'. Way too playful, no answer this time.

In the front, the door banged again. It seems that the plastic windows reacted with vigor every time someone popped in for a glazed donut or eggs. I felt the stupor coming on again, like the sleeples remnant you cannot shake once you're comitted to waiting out the night. Wanted to break it and she did not seem comprehensible when viewed during mild catatonic episode. My eyes caught the dirty linoleum again.

"Do you want me to scrub your fucking head?!" This time it went off too loud, like an unwelcome morning blare. Felt the frown of the fat blue collar type armed with a fork and able to stab because she had, well, a cunt. She moved, lithe and light so I bumped her with all the fat on my hip and she caromed into a barstool, cursing. Small victories.

Blue collar guy stood up and I hugged him, thinking of biting.

'Let's go!" she shouted, sonorous, with true emotion, if not towards me than nested within the words themselves. Such a simple phrase, and I, realizing the prole's confusion may make way to violence, tore myself off too fast and hit the door with a raucous bang! Then we were out in the sunlight and I was still exhausted and catatonic but hoping I can sabotage her day and make her stay in the condo while I crashed on the rug.

'Wanna take the elevator ride again? I still have some peach juice left up there." - This was stupid of me to say, never, never start the sentence with "Wanna". Use "let's". However, she answered

"Ok, let's go" and off we went, and despite being increasingly unable to find any pattern to the exchange, I felt like once up there I could lock up and hide the keys until late afternoon.

yeah the hair definitely needs some L'Oréal I agree

–Johnny the Gent died the other day. You know him?
–No, I...
–He melted down the ascot cup. He was the first one to gild the sixpence, and passed them as half-sovereigns until they had to call them in. He knew so much about the church that once he posed as Bishop of the Falkland Islands. He just died, Johnny. He had about ten dollars on him.

Is it schizophrenics who control the world? Given it's they have the least distinction or boundary between themselves and their environment they have to take in the thoughts of everyone's as their own so it's they who are most likely to want to have some control over that, what other people think. Even just on Veeky Forums it takes five minutes to change the direction of a board shitposting if you're uninhibited enough

Fell in love with the best woman of my life. Everything is going well, 5 months in, and we're talking about our future together and all the happy years we'll share. And then one day she tells me that she used to do threesomes all the time and get fucked by two dudes at once.

Makes me sick to think about. Makes me feel inadequate. Makes me feel small. Makes me feel like walking away from the love of my life.

Didn't you start a thread about this a few weeks ago?

they’re psychotic, i doubt they’re schizo

yes.

FWIR "threesomes all the time" was not a part of that. Her story get worse?

is it pasta or are you actually a horrible judge of human character user?

My one, look for my acts
Please just wait for my lapse.
Fast, we must unite before
Winters long pass, my lass

>tfw no gf

It grows in me when I breathe in each thought.
My will swells and spills into every night, dead.
I climb to to finish my act, the final deed of steed.
Balance of clicks and movement I find rythm.
Pounding of the head, I forgot to breathe.
Now I can't even see my bed full of moms feed.

>tfw bf went to sleep so you just need to go to sleep too so tomorrow can come quicker and you can be another day closer and also wake up to his lovely good morning messages!!!!!

>also mourning the loss of a sold out dress that i'll never have...... and it's kind of expensive for me atm....... certain destinies come down to time and place. bless you zimmermann white silk dress with ruffles saksfifthavenue.com/main/ProductDetail.jsp?PRODUCT<>prd_id=845524447064511

i seriously am so freaking depressed, that could've been my one.. fuckksldkjf !! ahhh :((((((( *bawls* into a glass universe* of nothingness.....

just fuck me
up
senpai.

why are these dresses so stsusdpifuspdflildy beautifuly?!?!?!/1 i must have them....... what is life???.... i cant even sleep anymore...... :'(((!!!!! i will wear them 2 0 1 8 !!!!!! god...... santa where are you :(( DON'T DIE ON ME!!!T_T_T_!!!

that's a fine lookin dress

you dont even know.... i feel so empty right now. it was just perfect for me, i ccan't.... i just imagined myself for 10 hours in it, and i looked up every word combination ever in existence and went through some deep web shit right now trying to find it!! ANYWHERE!!!!!! there are none. i even added myself to all the waitlists but i know it's never coming back. i just, ... there's no point anymore. in anything.... :(

if you email a copy of your work to yourself first, does that work?

check out polyvore; I bet there'd be some links to silk dresses

No, narcissists and psychopaths who don't care about the rest but most schizos are too mentally disfunctioned to control anything.

post feminine benis

they link to the dead links which i've already waitlisted myself on. sites like polyvore just link back to the original source websites. if it's sold out on saks/barneys/etc, going to polyvore is just going to link me back to saks or barneys. waste of time... :( i wish though. there were similar ones. i tried. i will just die now. ^_^ thank you!! hehe :)

This is what I did

Christmas brought visitors. No-good men and almost-good men arrived and greeted us. Men drank rum and beer and champagne and wine. Unhappy men and almost-happy men laughed. Men-to-be battled dinosaurs with tractors. I'll be an unhappy man or an almost-happy man soon, because being happy is hard, though the process is simple. I'll be a no-good man or an almost-good man soon. It doesn't take much to be a good man, though. But I'll try to be a little bit good before nightfall.

oh dang Barney's? Expensive! You'll probably have to look at lingerie specific fashion companies. If you live around LA you could go to Glendale Galleria or Americana Galleria. But if you don't think of places like that.

Did you check Zara?

My lifeskin

If God is real then my cut penis is justified, if it's not, I'll kill all jews.

I'm just kidding, we all know that God wouldn't order to do such a stupid thing, we all know, right?

No, because jews are assholes and my prepuce was cut in vain.

In the end, we all cut men can agree that our foreskin is pretty much like our lives

Because we never asked to be CUT or BORN!

Legally it does, but remember that Veeky Forums is still considered bad too a lot of people, so depending on how they do their plagiarism search, if they see that it's from here they might drop you.
Just exercise caution is all I'm saying.

Good post.

what the hell are you saying?!?!?!?!?!!?!?!?!?!?!?! why would lingerie specific fashion companies have that exact dress or others? you mean like for love & lemons? no matter where i go, i won't ever find that dress. you don't understand. silhouettes are very unique.

glendale galleria, americana, no........ this came out in ss16? or resort, not sure but it's been over a year so i'm dead. i appreciate the help but thanks. i'm just going to get over it - no choice.

also i don't really go to malls unless i know what i want in advance; for some reason i like to order online but i feel like they never have what i want, so i check beforehand and then go there if i do want something. and yes i do live in LA :)!

going to just save my money and wait for them to come out for an identical copy........... honestly its ok, more beautiful dresses will come out. the world is not over. appreciate your help senpai.

Are you the succubi bitch, what up im that gangster G fresh man.

I got some breathe I want to feed you bB

and i know, i wish it weren't so. :( i wish it wasnt so expensive. it was like reduced to 2xx, from something even crazier. but i still see sites selling similar dresses by the same brand for like 6xx and up. or even that same exact one.

honestly too many letters have been wasted on this lame dead dress, lets just enjoy the more precious valuable things in life like family and being able to live ;_;!!!!! T_T!!!!!! fuck clothes..... ppl out there dying of malaria and bubonic plagues (if i used a time machine) this dress can easily be forgotten. thanks thanks!!! :)

>why would lingerie specific fashion companies have that exact dress or others?
>silk

ss16? lol yeah nvm, you'll never find it

And your welcome!

>this is what female Veeky Forums users think about

blessings and good fortune wishes to you

also literally have no idea why that img is relevant, its not, not tryin to say ilu a little ilu a lot but too lazy to crop that out lmao its just a random image idk i need to stleep.

Don't worry, dude, this is just an avante-garde writing style. I don't understand it either because I'm stupid, but I'm sure there's a super deep hidden message.

not female Veeky Forums,

I took a fashion/sewing class in HS and it stuck with me.
Class full of women is a wonderful blessing.

May the Lord be with you through peace and tribulations.

Also, what's the sauce on that image?

I like boobs
I like my weewee feeling good
I like butts
I’d like to be with someone
I hate being alone

fyi some people switch up their writing styles (omg reminded me of youtube.com/watch?v=KrJXRZgOK7E) but some people literally don't carea bout fixing their typos, or doing whatever, because they could be typing half drunk or half conscious. or they could be high on caffeine. you never know! who cares?!?!?! maybe some people write knowing nobody will ever read it and they're only writing for themselves to get rid of their thoughts, not for you to dissect or analyze. srsly hate when people try to judge/identify/evaluate people based on their online writing on a fucking siberian weaving board!.

its cool if you don't understand schizo.

tldr: you never know what state people are in when they're writing, so don't try to know. also if they actually give a fuck, they probably don't write like that all the time so who caressssss:))?!?!?!

some random ig repost! :)

well what's the account???

I thought this was a car impound agency. Isn't that what the job is when we select the squares? I thought Google was having us do their job?

that’s some multi-layered thought
>schizo as insult
oh goodness

Tbh fembelam, ive seen u on /x/ cuz ur writing style stick out like a coffee table, and i always bump into ur posts.

Im like 83.38% sure ur schizo or close to it when ur not sober

Very obvi adhd, you see

reverse search will probably be accurate, i don't follow the actual person so i don't know lol i was just surfing random igs! sorry!!! :(

desu dumbfuck, i can't even watch scary movies why the fuck would i go to /x/? i put on my grandmothers' lives that i never have even stayed there for over a second. but then again you're probably trolling me rn and acting like you know me but no, i don't go there lmao. and many can imitate but not duplicate HUNEY ;_)! :*

thanks!!

it's called stream-of-consciousness r tard

What eva
If i wasnt on my phone i could ez imitate ur bait, desu female thats dresses as a bell, (dresses look like a bell) u show to much with your thoughts and Its almost like ur naked before my eyes, u have no dressing for ur word salad so you have no disguise
Ur posts are feasts for me

Start with the Greeks.

A somewhat good friend of mine/ ex coworker said he wanted to fuck me in a text and ever since I’ve felt violated and uncomfortable. Considering he knows I have a long term girlfriend who I plan to marry.

Eh i did, but it was more about the gods, and who and what not did the deeds, and the muses, and not who and what but why they had these idees. (IDs fornication (identification for) and ideas)

Anywayays, just these posts literally get me off, in a way i cant described without being a creep, they are just so fun to read, its as if they bleed soul and spirit, and not many people will get to hear honesty without hostility, so you do you, and pity the fool.

Fuck. I seriously will die young. I will never be able to see a fucking chimpanzee type Hamlet. That's the shit I live for. Just imagine, a chimp writing Hamlet. Amazing. Someone would have to give him a prize or something, for his achievements of literature as a CHIMPANZEE. Yeah he might sling shit after he finishes, but who gives a damn. It would be unfuckingbelievable to witness such beauty occur. I would seriously kidnap someone for the Hamlet writing CHIMPANZEE so he could use his monkey strength to tear off the bastard's arm to then beat the bitch with it. Then he'd eat her fucking face because he's a Hamlet writing mother fucking CHIMPANZEE.

I just wrote this without letting myself stop or erase anything.

Starting is the hardest part. It never gets any easier. Starting is the hardest part. It never gets any easier. Starting is the hardest part. It never gets any easier. So just fucking start. There ya go, now you're doin it. Now, what are we gonna write about?

Maybe a scene? What type of scene?

Hmm. Something bright. Bright night, or bright day? Night. Always liked night better. Wrapped you up like a soft blanket and let you hide from the demons. Sitting and watching the shimmering tree with the cold wind hitting your back. Stars. So many stars. Beautiful, like a spastics splattered paint job. And the smell. Smell of tea bags and wood smoke, mixed with fresh day-after-it-rains air.

The dog sitting next to you, sniffing and whining. Can't tell if he's excited or scared.

Go home maybe? Hell no. Home is hell. Oh, there goes a shooting star! Can see them almost every clear night; if you're patient enough. Quiet enough to hear the frogs too.

Speaking of frogs, new smell. Rotten vegetation mixed with muddy water and algae slime. Swampy, but not bad. Not bad because it's so familiar. So nostalgic that it can't be bad.

Didn't have coffee back then to keep you awake, had to just stay up. Stay up and wait for everyone else to go to sleep, because going to sleep could have been a death sentence. Probably not though. But it felt like it.

Dogs whining again, so you tell him to hush. You just want to feel the cold wind a while longer and watch those leaves shimmer in that moonlight.

The solution is for you to train a chimpanzee yourself.

Obviously.

fuck no, it'll rip my arm off, beat me with it, eat my face, and write Hamlet while I'm dead

She acts all demure in public, but what she likes me to do is get her drunk and press her against the glass of the window and fuck her standing up. I tell her I love her because I do, but its been two weeks since I went away and I'm already thinking of the other girl, who has gone into my apartment to clean it in my absence and likes to sit on top and ride me. Yesterday the first girl told me she was pregnant but it was a typo. The best way to hurt people is through inaction.

No that's good

im about to get sick, will completely ruin NYE for me. should break something i care about to see if equivalnt exchance can be abused, if not will simply weather the disappointment as always. Too bad, would’ve fucked a pretty blonde aryan grill spiting /pol/ in the process

...

I actually tried to drink myself to death this past Christmas. I didn't think I'd try to commit suicide. I don't even remember drunk texting my friends and family my poems. I think I did that because I didn't want them to be lost. Oh, what a liquid courage it is, it actually gave me the balls to kill myself, let alone share my writing.

I want to become the best version of myself. In order to accomplish that goal I will need to severely reduce the ammount of time I spend online. I have allowed internet addiction to fuck up many things in my life. Both in academic and social life. I wonder if I could have been happier in a different time period. In order to be happy I will have to start following my conscience.

I wish aging didn't bother me so much but I can't stop being bothered by it.

hahahahahahahahahahaha can u ebin imagine being a brainless 9/10 woman hahahahahahahahahahaha

I’ve gotten owned so hard in the past month I don’t think I’ll recover. I just want my family to be safe

What now? I have the time, the passion, and the message. But I don't know in what form to say it. Writing? Music? Painting? Poetry? I just don't know where to compound everything down into.

Why not all? If not all, then flip a coin you silly billy.

Well user. Since you were so kind to post that. How would you like to be apart of history? You make the choice. You seem as varied as any coin flip. What say you? How about some fun?

get a voice recorder and speak into it while you work (if you are allowed) so you can capture your thoughts

Bombs

Does reading change my life for the better? I used to be into self-improvement but lately I've been contemplating it quite a bit. What exactly has improved in my life if i'm sitting in exactly the same chair holding a book in my hand instead of a controller or instead of my dick? Does it make me any happier? Probably not. Does it make me any smarter? Not sure. Somehow my interest in improving my life has faded, and I'm rather questioning whether any improvements can be made or measured in any way. If happiness were the end goal, I'd just never leave the house and fap all day while playing video games. If knowledge were the end goal, I'd just buy stims and study all day. The problem is, I have no end goal. There are no fundamental values in my life, though there used to be. I used to think if I just made friends and read more and worked out then my life would improve. Now I'm doing all this but I still feel the same. Nothing has changed and/or improved, people call me all the time and it's damn annoying, I'd rather be alone again. Will this ever change?

I used to be so motivated. I don’t know where my ambition has gone. I hate this feeling. Sometimes, though I know how I loathed it, I long to be lonely again. I long to be just me again, in my bedroom, no one talking to me, just reading, looking, reading. I know I hated it. I probably don’t even want it. But I am yet to find that balance between that lonely existence I require, and that social life that I love that has made me so happy. When will it happen? When will it happen...

I just hope I don’t find a wife like Edith Stoner. That’s all I ask for. I just don’t want that.

I was waiting for this thread to pop out so I could write about power, force and their relationship to intellectual development, praxis, artistry. But now I'm just gonna go read The Magic Mountain.

And the name of that chimpanzee? Jorge Luis Borges, hijo.

at least you had goals. I never had one.

All of Nietzsche's wisdom are contained in Losing My Religion.

The world is dying. There is nothing to hold onto. No anchor. Panic-stricken, I flee. I run blindly in this madhouse. And I cannot even pray. For I have no God.

I'm relaxing a lot more these days, mentally, not physically. All the time to read the great classics is there, all the time to learn and understand is still in my pocket. I can't hate myself for not feeling intelligent and continue self-flagellating every day. Just read more, just write more, just do more, and stop choking yourself with fear and anger. I'll get there.

koreans are the very best! youtu.be/QsVW796yki8

Of all the things I've ever learned, the best is that if I don't do it, it won't do it itself.

I procrastinate so much and whine so much about how things are not the way I like. I blame the world for it, then I blame myself with "I can't do it", "it's not possible", "I have this problem" and all the variations, but when people ask me why I can't do it, I have no real answer (I have fake answers sometimes though). I spend so much time in rationalizations of my problem, finding explanations, physical, mental, in society, in myself, or thinking "I ought to do this before that", almost like "my sock has a hole, I can't go outside today, I ought to buy a sock, but I have no money better wait my paycheck" etc etc endlessly. "I'll just shitpost one last time".

At the end of the day I know I kind of want things to be done with, as if it did not depend on me actually doing them. This is so true to my addictions, internet addiction, marijuana, or the shit relationships I ever had and that it took me the greatest time to step aside, toxic friendships I endured because I procrastinated doing something about it. So many lost opportunities for my career or even to spend nice vacations that I've wasted doing nothing much. Even "the things I didn't do" shouldn't be ean excuse. I always hope that things will resolve themselves somehow.

Then, a few times, I remember it. It doesn't mean just to remember the words, I remember it vividly in my head that "if I do it, it will happen", it clicks, I understand it. And then I do it. And it feels great and I don't regret it, even if the results of my actions turn out for the worse, it is a relief to get out of the stale position and I learn something new about it. After some time though, I forget it and return to the same toxic mindset of before.

I post this to remember it. Maybe I'm asking how to remember it, but perhaps even that is excuse not to remember it.

user: remember it.

I wish I could punch every person who replies to "reply to this post or your mother will die in her sleep tonight" posts unironically in the mouth

I requested pics
Not even naked ones
She didn't respond

I want a pornography board where people stop talking about their retarded opinions on sexuality and start posting more pornograhy

I don't know why a Chimp would be so special, you put the several Billion people on earth tuping, and I don't think they could write Shakespeare either.

You're wrong, they've done it.
jesse-anderson.com/2011/09/a-few-million-monkeys-randomly-recreate-shakespeare/

you'll never experience the magic when that shit happens