Hey my dudes

Hey my dudes.
Have you been doing some writting lately?
Need someone to read it beacuse you have no friends?
Fret not!
Here in this thread,feel free to post some writting that you have been doing (if you have been doing any) and let other people post their own writting and criticque it.
Try not to be a dick i suppose and i'm sorry for the shitty formatting
I'll post some of mine in the next post

Other urls found in this thread:

docs.google.com/document/d/1T-RIWuEWUumgX76vVsRsLdBI0l9R9239f-fPFjn747o/edit?usp=sharing
twitter.com/SFWRedditVideos

un was still in his mouth when he heard the familiar ping,informing him that he had recieved another message Discord.He was squeezing the trigger,eyes closed and ready to leave this mortail coil when he heard it.
The gun was called the M57,produced by a former Yugoslav company called Zastava and it was like most weapons in Yugoslavia,a rip off of Soviet weapons engineering.
He bought it from a gypsy,who he was introduced to by Fisher,the man who sold him small portions of weed on occasion.
All he needed was one bullet,but the gypo insisted on buying a clip.One bullet would be enough to end his truly pitiful existence but in the end he caved in.
9 bullets.Barrel tasted like cotton balls and his own saliva.In one hour he inserted it three times in the mouth,four times on his temple and one time on his chin.
This was supposed to be it,yet the ping interrupted him.He examined the gun more closely this time.On the handle,a faded star was visible along with the words YNA on it.
He walked over to the small desk which hosted a collection of cheap snacks,"food" and soda drinks.Small amounts of tobbaco and weed,CD's,USB's,newspapers,and imported digitally drawn Japanese pornography showing off females that looked 12 but had the breasts of a 60 year old.
The gun was still in his hand while he scrolled through his messages.Previous conversations about nothing flashed in his eyes,untill he finally reached his destination.
Mac was always a strange guy.Claimed to be Australian.Bragged about doing DXM every day.A homosexual with a fetish for young men dressed in girls clothes.
The message read,imposed over a black backround:"Ned this translated by Thursday,thse folks at Jangagamer are looking to make a quick buck on this piece of shit,doesn't have to be good,us machine translated"
Good old Mac.Helping him survive.He did anything for cash at that point.Translation gigs,small programming gigs,spriting textures,sessions on Chatrubate.He still only had 50 convertible marks to his name,and a cruel landlord that liked money and bagels.
Sometimes he wondered if he was jewish or if he had any of that semi reptilian blood in him.
Attached to this message was a zip. file which was tittled BoyLover's Club Doki Boki!and then a bunch of kanji and gibberish.He extracted the files on his desktop,which was also a dumping ground much like his desk.Image marcos,pirated video games he never played and various programs he never used.
He sat back for a moment and looked around his small coffin.Piles of clothing,a plugged in microwave in the corner,a mini fridge and a couch.He remembered tossing his TV into the hall in a rum induced stupor.The next day it was gone,the small pieces of glass and electronics too.

Only a mark on the wall was left.That was three weeks ago,the day he bought the TT rip off and a magazine filled with bullets.
Five minutes ago he was ready to die but now he was extracting some random piece of pornography to be translated for small amounts of cash.
Maybe he still had some fight left in him,maybe things would get better on their own.The icon of the game was a blue triangle drawing with tree lines,spirarling into eachother and he knew he recognized the symbol from somewhere but he couldn't put his mousepad on it.
He clicked it and the computer screen was enveloped into a swirl of colors and noises.
It was not unusal for some high budget VN to have some sort of anime-esque opening but what he had gathered from Mac this was supposed to be some cheap jerk off material for shut ins and future shut ins.He always hated intros in anime,he hated the annoying voices,the shitty visuals and lyrics.It made him cringe and gulp,a tinge of shame running down his spine every time he had to sit through one.
The screen showed three generic anime girls dancing to some upbeat tune set against a pink backround.Various geometric shapes were switching and dancing infront of his eyes,
Nause hit him.He looked closer and noticed that the three "girls",wearing skirts,knee thig highs and cat ears had massive throbbing erections poking through their skirts.It was one of those games,it's gonna be one of those gigs.His vision was blurry,the annoying screechy Japanese woman singing gibberish in his head was reaching its peak,he saw pentagrams,triangles,and the Baphomet flash on the screen.

>i'm sorry for the shitty formatting
If you don't care enough to format it why do you think I'll read your garbage?

Colors danced,dots and atoms were shiffting,he was zoomed into the wall passing in and out of it and then it was complete darkness.


Moving up,through the sea back into the concious world.Light at the end of the tunnel,hope and awarness.It was bubbling up,his soul taking back possession.
Pain hit him in an instant and he was slowly rocking around,trying to stop it.Every muscle in his body hurt,his foot felt off and he felt every cut and scratch on his body.
He barfed and eventually puked.He felt the broken glass and wet asphalt on his back.
It was dark and the stars were out.On his right was the exit of the alley he was currently in,leading up to what seemed to be a busy neon colored street.He attempted to get himself up from the filth but only managed to hoist himself up on a wall.Broken glass on the ground and up above a broken window with some lighting shinning through it.
Somehow,the pajams he wore in his apartment were changed into a fine black suit andd shirt,which were covered in various amounts of blood and mud.
Ankle twisted,middle finger on the left hand broken and countless other things.At least his shoes looked nice.Slowly,walking towards the busy street trying to put minimal amounts of pressure on his mangled foot.
All of a sudden he was illuminated in a sea of kanji symbols and broken english,just another face in a sea of yellow faces and crossed eyes.
Japan?How,where,when raced through him and he started moving through the crowd recieving various looks conveying various emotions from the same looking crossed people.
It was quite pretty though....

Man this is garbo

docs.google.com/document/d/1T-RIWuEWUumgX76vVsRsLdBI0l9R9239f-fPFjn747o/edit?usp=sharing

Beacuse i can read your garbage?

You know this is edgy as fuck,but it's got that sort of rambling Notes from the Underground vibe that i dig.

I saw that shit coming but i couldn't find a way to circumvent the edge, so I focused making it as interesting as I can rather than good.

Quite honestly I wanted to die several times over writing this thing.

If this was less meandering and more straightforward while incorporating a stream of thought approach I would have liked it a bit more. Also it seems a bit front loaded with info.
Why do I need to know what kind of gun it is and it's genesis? Why do I need to know he smoked weed that he bought from some gypsy right out of the gate? Why is this so needlessly intelligent sounding

fucking ell I hate you captcha

What I'm trying to say there's a lot of needless bullshit that surrounds an otherwise interesting suicide sequence.
Focus on clarity first before being fancy. It seems like you wrote this on the spot trying to get your thoughts down so all you have to do is refine it.

related to the pic

There were lit-up signs (the lights backlit images of ice-cream, dogs, babies, electronics, and cute little mascots like little chubby hamsters and button-nosed cats) which were built on each-other and rose towards the tops of the buildings with hue against hue weaving into impossibly bright saturations and a video-screen featured a woman blown-up to skyscraper-sized proportions drinking from a bottle, smiling at you with contentment once she’d taken that first sip, and the white-hot light which splintered into reds and greens and blues was expelled in every direction, touching the fabrics and plastics which decorated the many store fronts ‘n her deep voice rumbling through the air threatened to overrule the shouted conversations on the street. Behind secure glass lay shoes and clothes which were tended to by assistants while a consistent stream of patrons bursting through alleyways like a torrent of ants erupting forth from a formicary bustled through open doors, some wearing the recognizable confusion of a tourist and some marching with the aggressive gait of a local resident who’d adopted urban aggression patterns but all basked in the powerful sensations and vibrancy which populated this downtown epicenter and absorbed a palpable sense of excitement – with palpitations in the heart do we know that yes, at some point a well must run dry – a crystalline stream of excess which reflected our spirit like the dull waters of a life-giving body – from the girls and boys who invited you into their store with bows and waves to the sounds of pop music somewhere in the distance speaking of compassion and tenderness as the buzzing & high-pitched noises in Susie’s ears slowly disappeared into the city’s background hum. Susie tilted her head upward, towards the florescent dome of light which enveloped her, watching the billboards & neon signs spiral around her until disappearing into some dark void. Their lights intertwined & mingled till morphing into a heterogeneous continuum of color, accentuated by the voluptuous curves of their font which performed shapes & signs of mysterious origin and under their pink gaze jetted the customers with their bags ‘n their eyes filled with images of soup cups & watches & nylon dresses blinked along to each flickering display of video-cassette prices & lonely video-girls.

>s (the lights backlit images of ice-cream, dogs, babies, electronics, and cute little mascots like little chubby hamsters and button-nosed cats)

forget the parentheses. do something like bright signs of etc. piled on top of each other. In fact most of your writing is like that. Look at it again and see what can be bundled together nicely. It saves me a headache and will make your narrative flow smoother.

I wanted to make it more intresting by adding some extra detail to the story.
Stream of conciousness you say...
Time to dust off my Ulysses

Why don't you like it? I think it's not too bad, but a little stilted. What is it? Novel? SS?

Here's mine:

He had marched about for maybe an hour, quartering the area and finding neither cause to complain nor anything peculiar. It was just when he thought about turning and going back when a discolored slab of grayness showed trough the trees and caught his eye. He went on through the shrub and over lumpy ground, vaulting over a fallen tree so corrupt with rot that it collapsed under him just the istant before he landed. He half fell and the arm with which he had supported himself was caught in the dead tree’s moldy intestines and he felt the tingle of a multitude of small crawling things rushing frantically over his hand and a gooey moistness under his palm where he had crushed some of them to pulp. The image that eerily flashed up in one of those ill-lit back-chambers of his sickish mind was that of a furious deity coming down on his clueless flock, the survivors forever despairing over the unknown nature of their wrongdoings that had caused such punishment. He scrabbled around with his arm caught behind his back and the sharp splinters cut his skin but he did not feel anything but the inundating wish to get his doomed limb out of this gross hole. When he had freed himself he stood shivering with disgust, wiping his hand on leafes and bark and trousers. It was then that he found some luckier individuals scrambling back and forth on his sleeve. Pill bugs it were and his paranoid terror left him immediately with the recognization. He wiped them gently off over the hole in the tree and they rolled themselves up mid-air and made audible sounds as they thumped down amongst their buddies like small pebbles bestowed with some improbable lifeseed.
Liam went on toward the incongruous patch of gray before him. He gauged it to be maybe two hundred yards away but it was hard to tell with all the trees in front. Fact was it grew bigger. As he moved on the trees thinned out and a deep black blotch appeared within the slab and Liam thought he knew what it was. Gradually as he stumbled through the terrain with his eyes fixed up the block became dimensional and he could make out the wall of rock that formed the pale backdrop. He saw that it curved to the left and adjusted his course so that he came out of the woods facing the structure head-on.

Extra details are always something an enthusiastic writer has an urge to put on paper, but all it really does is kill the pacing,
If these things are important than bring those details out when it becomes relevant, otherwise they're needless details that belong in a footnote rather than the body.
Extra details are a great thing. They're great to get ideas to develop the plot later on and they show the amount of energy you have at the start of your work. Later on as you write (at least for me) you'll become more jaded with yourself and your work so your first draft with all your ideas in them should give you a reminder of why you started this project in the first place.

i think it's a bit over dramatic and over written but overall okay.

>He wiped them gently off over the hole in the tree and they rolled themselves up mid-air and made audible sounds as they thumped down amongst their buddies like small pebbles

I quite like this bit. Gives a very clear image.

why are general crit threads never as popular as the poetry version?

He's trying to be Pynchon, that's why.

If you know Polish, sure
wypocinyzodbytu.blogspot.com

I wish the local asian escorts looked like that

>*tips*

- NO , WHORE, DOES NOT WORK NEXT.

I fucking love google translate

...

I can't really get everything i want to get out on the page and it's a prologue on a book i plan to write when i get more well read and experienced.

>Have you been doing some writting lately?
Never change, Veeky Forums.

Thanks man, appreciated. I'd like to hear what especially struck you as overdramatic.

Here's the next bit of it, if anyone cares:

Liam went on toward the incongruous patch of gray before him. He gauged it to be maybe two hundred yards away but it was hard to tell with what was quite a lot of forest obscuring the view. As he moved on row upon row of trees fell back behind him and a deep black blotch appeared within the slab in front. By now Liam thought he knew what it was. Gradually as he stumbled through the terrain with his eyes fixed on is target the block became dimensional and he could make out the wall of rock that formed the pale gray backdrop. He saw that it curved to the left and adjusted his course so that he came out of the woods facing the structure head-on.
The cave rose from the ground like some obscene orifice, a giant ruptured pustule on earth’s skin that caused both revulsion and a morbid fascination. A limestone vault and underneath a black gaping maw perhaps eight feet high and twice as long. There was a deep-green strip of treeless, mossy soil that isolated the forest from the cave. Liam looked for a moment and then went slowly on towards the entrance. The scarce light that found its way inside was swallowed up swiftly by the deep gorge but he could make out some grotesque rock formations, stone corroded like a carious tooth. He went some steps inside and peered. At once a damp, stony coolness embraced him; the sound of his steps ran inside the pitch-dark cavern like something lightweight going down a slide.
“I ought to ’ve brought my goddam flashlight,” he told himself.

>what does full stops

>She’s even dating Chad now. If I had to describe that guy it would be a square. The guy’s an upright citizen who even talks to a guy like me once in awhile. He’s amiable, smart and athletic while not being an asshole

Come on dude, I realise this is supposed to be Veeky Forums the novel but did you really have to create a literal Chad?

I really didn't care for names. All the characters had tags like [Protaganistman] and the like and I asked my friends what to name them and thus chad was christened.

i havent written a sentence since july.

But you just did