Write what's on your mind

I wish I could make my body sleep more often. I usually only get tired after 30 hours of being awake and even then I have to drink relaxing tea or something to actually sleep. After that I sleep for like 2-3 hours and then don't sleep again for another 30. I hate this not so much from feeling tired, I usually don't feel tired at all. I just hate having to be conscious so long without a break. I wish I could turn my mind off more often.

Honestly, you should talk to a doctor. That's so little sleep you could really be messing yourself up.

I'm just thinking about how pathetic I am, how little I know, how I have no professional abilities, no language abilities, no Veeky Forums abilities, no stable source of income, no perspective and no will.

Every day I go to sleep at different times. But I'm depressed, so I guess that's normal.

i really want to leave my church, but I am having an existential crisis as I do not believe in Atheism. I do not believe that a God has created the universe and neither has any of my prayers really given any results. However, I still feel a great feeling in Church, which could be placebo or whatever, since through my whole upbringing I've been taught that going to church and praying is the right thing to do. I feel borderline brainwashed. I have serious conflicted feelings about the whole case, and I feel like no teenager is suppose to have these crises at such a young age when they're also supposed to focus on school and find a place in the community.

I haven't told my parents anything, but they 100% believe that I am a wholehearted Christian. They think that each time I do something nice, I do it because I learned it from church, or read in the Bible that that was how I am supposed to act, but in reality it is just me being reasonable and want others to have a good time.

I still believe that the church can make others behave fantastically. I am afraid of leaving the church as I have a little brother who is using me as an idol, and afraid that he will do the same and somehow get lost in a bad community. The church is able to teach some really good morals and rules for life, but they also be followed easily without a god.

I hate praying for signs, as I only over analyze situations, and end up finding God out of thin air. Because of this I've tried to also look for signs saying I should eave the church, such as how many times do I stumble upon a person that is strongly connected with the community outside of the church, or how many times somebody from the church asks me to hang out vs how many times somebody outside the church asks to hang out.

Thanks for making me write this, it cleared up my mind a little bit.

same here
how are you planning to break out of it?

>be me
>be an ugly beta 27 year old male with no friends or social experiences since school, no female attention ever, never been to pub, club or party
>too ugly and not normie enough to pass job interviews for better jobs
>become the ugly loser loner nobody talks to within one day of all my jobs
>have fully taken the blackpill / lookspill and know I will have a life ten times harder than any normie's
>feel like a cuck when working hard because women and Chads get everything handed to them
>being outside is demoralising because people seem disgusted by me but being inside makes me feel like my youth is gone
>get lied to by a society that wants to use me as a disposable battery

It's warming up, said the man as he made love to a woman in a snow bank. Temperatures rising, she replied.

i hate the fact that i dont have friends and will probably never have

there are three electric guitars and twenty voices and it's the middle of the night
god I have made a terrible mistake

based london poster

everything hurts and i want to die

>all of my blood rushed into my torso to help in digestion
holy fuck that's what happen when you're full?
what if you just eat till you're satisfied?

8/10

fag/10

fag/got

Start by cleaning up your room.

I am so intelligent and sophisticated the only thing I want is to make my weewee feel good inside a womans mouth

"You like Bing Bong?"

A wizened spectre sidled up to Dave as he wandered through the tenements lost to his own inner musings. He stopped short and stared at the creature. A native of this country,a hawkers of illicit wares judging by his furtive attitude and knowing grin. "Bing Bong! Is good,is close by. You come,yes?" Dave did not reply,trying to maintain an outer indifference despite his inner recoiling. But he was trying to find a lead to a thoroughly dangerous organization in a foreign land. Maybe this was a Godsend. From one of this land's darker Gods.

"What is Bing Bong? What are you trying to tell me?" The creature cackle in incredulity.

"Bing Bong you no know? You lost,friend! I show you!" He pointed toward a corner down the block,where scattered lights and odd undulating noises of patrons drifted through the stifling night air. "You go there. You learn." And Dave nodded once and drifted toward the tumult. How illegal could this be if it was set in a public venue? He reached the doorway and peered inside. The creature faded back into the street.

It was a large establishment, confined in the bottom floor of an apartment complex a few stories high. The windows above were dark uniformly,shuttered tight seemingly for years. There were no windows on this bottom tier,just plastered concrete painted with tattered posters and dust. The interior was of another sort. Well maintained wooden stairs led down into a swirling miasma of tables fashioned of round brown wood,lit inadequately by a small brass lamp in the middle of each. These crowded around a low stage with an ajoining catwalk jutting into the center,footlights flickering at intervals about its length. A long bar hugged the wall to the left,and a second layer of tables rimmed the stage grotto on the right. Dave opted for a stool at the bar,and after catching the eye of the thin and sinister bartender,disregarded him after receiving a bottle of beer. He surveyed the patrons casually.

The figures huddled over pots of coffee and fanciful cocktails were mainly men,countrymen,natives,the local fauna,and the usual suspects. They whispered to each other in twos and threes,with suspicious glares,pointed remarks,and unspeakable plots. Dave watched the small insectlike waiters in their crisp white uniforms darting about through the rolling smoke attending to them,and felt glad the bar had a clearer atmosphere. The glint and glows of huka pipes were glittering like stars across from him at the upper tables,and their cloying scent churned with the incense to make a fog of the floor by the stage. The backdrop of the performance area wasn't a curtain,but a stylized peacock,it's tail spread in a hemisphere to conceal the inner mysteries of the entertainment. It was well conceived, the image cunningly constructed from colored sequins, and opened like a fan. Yet another incongruity of this place:serious money built these fine walls,and also maintain it. Why do this in the middle of slums?

The question was unexpectedly answered by a lady.

It's so cold, like that chicken I bought yesterday, lifeless piece of meat. But its my grandmas leg, still attached to her, part of a human being. But it feels dead, bad blood flow, part of getting old, inevitability of life. Her eyes still open, still looking around, more and more detached everyday, empty like a newborns, on a wrinkly excuse of a human. I hate touching it, feet became a bloody mess, nails hurting toes, cold blood on my hands must change patch. Expression of physical pain twists her sour face, the only emotion left to her, judges me, im really doing best I can. What for, so when she evenrtually dies, we can pat our backs and say we did everything to acomodate her? So we can have a couple of weeks of her agony to witness. "If we put her in a senior home she will be dead within weeks, I saw that on tv!". She would thank us for it, if it was true. Time to change her diaper.

The pieces of inspiration I need to create something that will define my generation are right in front of my face, and in all of our faces.
But it is with this ubiquity of inspiration we come to feel that the work will inevitably come to fruition from someone else.

Dave turned suddenly at the voice. It belonged to a young lady of breeding and genteel bearing,decked out in the hoop skirt and frills of the Articifer class,the dress pale green with accents of lavender lilacs ,and Dave seemed to recognize her. From the hotel? She regarded him cooly,edged with contempt,all while monologuing between puffs of a cigarette held between gloved fingers. She blew smoke at him like an angry dragon,and began.

"They call it 'culture',their national heritage. They praise it's artistic expression, and snigger into their beards when the gullible parrot their own praises of it. They congregate in back alleys and dark dens to indulge in it,this so called art. I just call it vile." Another stream of smoke poured forth from her like outrage,washing over Dave. He only squinted through it and sipped from his bottle.

"Culture. Art. And we find ourselves turning a blind eye away from such monstrous offense for the sake of political correctness and convenience. We tolerate these little pecadillos because we want their resources, their profits in our own pockets. We are no better than they are." She surveyed the room,drawing deeply on her cigarette and scowling at all she saw. She turned to Dave,the smoke now seeping from her nostrils as her eyes hardened to steely daggers,contemplating him. "Surprising to find someone from the Institute in such a den of vice. Or maybe no surprise at all." She snorted. "Typical,really. Decent men let loose in a new land with 'differing moralities suddenly become unwound,lascivious and finding themselves wallowing in the basest perversions. This so called culture."

She paused then,awaiting Dave to grovel at her feet for being found in such a compromising position,to bewail his shame,and repent quaking from her superiority.

He ordered another beer instead.

I've become convinced that there is no meaningful distinction between dreams and reality. The world is likely just the afternoon rêverie of some advanced being.

Had a funny idea for a thread but it earned very few replies. It's disappointing because it really did make me laugh and I thought my friends on Veeky Forums would appreciate it--but they rolled their eyes and moved along

I think the problem might have been there was too much effort put into it. Or rather, the effort I put into it was too obvious. Veeky Forums posts, and artistic products in general, I suppose, are more beautiful and entertaining when the author is barely visible. If the reader can't easily imagine that they themselves could have just written out such a post, I don't think they're inclined to react strongly

"Are we done for now,m'lady?" Dave opened after a healthy swig. Her arched eyebrows offered no verbal rebuttal, so he continued. " As much as I am in debt for your concern for my morals,or possibly my lack of them,I find myself confronting a few select questions. Firstly,since I wandered in here in all innocence and out of curiosity, perhaps you can explain what imperils my soul in this place,and secondly," his smile creeping out of his studied aloof demeanor, "If this place is indeed so terrible,then what are YOU doing here?" Her eyes widened,and her brow furrowed. Her mouth opened,and Dave could imagine her next utterance curling on her tongue like a whiplash,but both of them were jarred to immobility by a booming voice suddenly looming out of the swirling smoke.It seemed at first to be a dense black cloud with a grinning set of teeth floating at its center. It was a beard,and above this black thatch a pair of amused eyes contemplated them both. "You came to seek the Bing Bong! You have found it. It will take hold of you. Bing Bong is LIFE!" The teeth grinned,disembodied. The lady,taken aback at the sight,tried valiantly to rally herself,and armed a scathing reply. But too late:a cord sounded from the stage. A drum beat out a rhythm, followed by another. A wailing razzing tune screeched it's way among the percussion. The whispering among the tables was staunched,and a murmur of anticipation rose with the primal beat. The peacock fan collapsed and rose above the stage,revealing shapes hidden just beyond the reach of the scant light. The voice next to them boomed:

"The Bing Bong...has BEGUN!"

I'm tired, said the tread as he rolled down the highway.

I hate my communication class. All he does is complain about trump and the government and it just becomes tiresome

>but in reality it is just me being reasonable and want others to have a good time.
>being "reasonable"
>wanting others to have a good time

You have been spooked, my man. Your mother was right.

Wondering if I've become a misanthrope or if I'm just cynical. Literally everybody in my life except for a few people has let me down in some way, despite not having any expectations of them besides believing that they're going to fulfill what they promised.

Despite this, I still place some trust in people, just so I don't completely obliterate the chances of finding some of the very rare trustworthy people in this world, but at the end of the day, I know that I can expect no-one else to carry me but myself. People are just too busy with their own lives to bother with mine, and I've accepted that.

It's a funny thought that to do anything you have to deny everything else. You hit a bullseye by aiming for it and also missing everywhere it isnt. I would like the idea of an instruction manual based on what not to do to do something. Instead of a manual instructing a person to turn on a computer by hitting the power button, it should instruct a person to turn on the computer by not become a doctor, not draw a picture of Dickens or not hold a large aquarium. And if anyone asks why you would be holding an aquarium, it would be the same reason why you should not hold one to turn on a computer.

can't decide what to get from the chinese place and i'm getting frustrated. i'm a terrible decider food orderer person.

yeah uh yeah uh yeah uh
start with the greeks
2 +2 equals five
explain to me polynomial equations
vitamin c vitamin c
yeah uh yeah castlevania

Are you a terrible decider food orderer person because you can't make a decision or are you a decider food ordered who does terrible things, like drown a sack full of kittens?

the first one + ocd. i have to buy a specific number of things and the total price needs to add up to one of my agreeable numbers. usually the numbers don't want to add up right and i just end up getting stressed out and losing my appetite.

Excellent. I will combine this with another idea and craft a fantastic novel.

Not sure what you mean by this, care to elaborate?

You should make your agreeable numbers 0-9. Then you are covered.

But at what cost?

When I came home from a night on the town yesterday, my internal monologue was repeating "kill yourself, you should kill yourself" for hours.

are these carrots making me pee more? what would cause that? I'm still drinking the same amount of water.

I really really really really really like prostitutes

Does the carrot have a gun against your head demanding you pee more?

it's usually number combinations and 0 is not one of my agreeable numbers and 9 can only be an agreeable number if paired with a 2 or an 11 it's not a terrorist thing though

Are you getting an excess of any nutrient? Your body might be trying to flush something out

You probably only like them as friends because you're a fucking queer

That's exactly what a terrorist would say

no carrot is currently unarmed but giving looks that could be judged as threatening if not subtly malignant
the only thing dietary changed this past week is I've been eating a handful of carrots a day but it seems like forty minutes or so after eating them I piss buckets

That's normal, friend. Everybody is thinking it. When you walk around outside, I would say a good 90% of people you pass are thinking about suicide

imagine being this delusional.

You're the one with the problem, buddy. Everybody else in class has already found the solution, we're all just waiting on you

nigga, carrots have juice in them. ever heard of carrot juice? that's it.

>You're the one with the problem, buddy.
What problem is that?

I keep getting encouraging rejections from literary journals. I keep getting told that my writing makes it to the final editorial round, or that it receives more consideration than most stories; but in the end it all gets rejected.

It's like I'm missing one, single thing. Like I'm almost there, but not there yet, and I have no idea how to cross the last bridge. It's maddening, because I'm trying to figure out what I could be missing, and I keep wondering if I'm going in the wrong direction.

...

I'm working on creating a YouTube channel and I'm insecure. I'm currently a full time NEET and I want to grow out of it, a YouTube career is where I'm feeling the most attraction towards but I've been grinding 4 days already trying to create the first video.

Have you been published before? Editors are timid people and want to see proof that others share their opinions about the quality of your writing before signing off on you

Take comfort in the knowledge that you're doing something meaningful and worthwhile for the world around you

I've had three short stories published, and only one of them in a venue of any note. I've also had a poem accepted to a somewhat wide-circulation magazine, but it's not actually out in print yet.

This was extremely depressing to read. ;-;

Oh you. ;)

GoT = gaem of throne
Lololoollllolol

>make thread about relatively obscure writer
>archives with no replies
;-;

Erectile Dysfunction

Love you user.

I've started watching the filmographies of the greatest directors of all time. Recently watched 2 of Tarkovsky's. The most recent one "The Mirror" had a lot of poetry in it written by the director's dad, and it got me thinking again about what bothers me. I suck at poetry. I read the words fine, but I don't understand the direction it takes most of the time, or what it means overall. It really makes me feel like an autistic robot. How do I get better at it?

a hat!

Fuck I wonder if I posted this while blackout

...

I recently got rejected for a grad program with the implication that if I worked on a few things I can get in after a year or two. This means I have to move back into my parent's house this fall after graduation. Not sure what I think about this. I feel like a bum.

Also, considering dating someone, but wondering if its too late since I will be leaving uni soon. Long distance would be a bad idea, wouldn't it? Should I accept it wouldn't work out?

I can't help you with poetry, but what movies/directors have you been watching?

>what movies/directors have you been watching?
After enjoying The Lobster (2016), I was told to check out Buñuel and Pasolini. Watched "The Exterminating Angel". Then after consulting TSPDT's greatest director's list, jumped around from Kubrick's "The Killing" and "Paths of Glory" to Tarkovsky's "Solaris" and "The Mirror". Watched 2017's "Three Billboards" in the middle of that and realized how basic of a film it is in comparison to the all time greats. Leaves a lot to be desired. Which also tells me I should look for satisfaction in literature instead of films/TV.

how do u "work on a few things" once u finished ur bachelors but aren't in grad school?

what jobs can math majors get?

are you a grill as well?

I'm trying to go to seminary so I need more involvement in my church. Academics weren't the issue.

I didn't really like Three Billboards either. Try the rest of Kubrick's stuff. Barry Lyndon is one of my favorite movies. See if you like Tarkovsky's Stalker as well. Avoid going straight through TSPDT's list, because you can get burnt out.

Three Billboards was my favorite film of the past few years, which says a lot about the state of the film industry.

>tfw all anyone in real life ever talks about is "capeshit 17: nyc gets destroyed again"

You could try to go into academia, but its very very competitive and plenty of extremely qualified people fail.
You could learn some applied stuff and go work in finance or optimization and things like that
You could learn programming and go work in data or networks and things like that
You could treat your degree as a certificate saying that you're smart and talk your way into a lot of jobs

It's a pretty versatile degree desu

lol kys christfag
finance is the big money maker, academia is going to be a slaughterhouse

That photo always reminds me of Half Life, either the first or second, and he kinda reminds me of G-Man. I wonder what archetype he is, roughly speaking.

Same

I ended a 24 hour fast in. Chinese buffet
Bad idea

But I’m going to eat normally tonight as I have work tomorrow.

I will eat again tomorrow evening after work like our forefathers did in their hunter gatherer phase.

>However, I still feel a great feeling in Church, which could be placebo or whatever, since through my whole upbringing I've been taught that going to church and praying is the right thing to do. I feel borderline brainwashed
I went through the same feelings. Yes, it's a placebo, yes you've been a bit brainwashed. It will feel strange, and uncomfortable, and like you're doing something wrong, but that goes away with time. Today, I feel uncomfortable in church, and the whole concept is silly.

I feel like my life is going nowhere and the choices I've made so far won't amount to anything. The fact that I've resigned myself to follow this road that will inexorably lead to mediocrity is something I find very frightening, moreso than the actual prospect of mediocrity. The ambitions I once held are slowly but surely being shoved aside by complacency and procrastination.
I'm going through the motions, feeling utterly blasé about anything that my friends would marvel at in childlike amazement.Feigning amzement for fear of being ostracized by my colleagues fills me with self-doubt.
The fact I'm even experiencing this thing you'd describe as existential dread or whatever annoys me as I equate it to emo, woe is me, milquetoast defeatism you'd find on /r9k/

Enjoy my ramblings

just a modern man in a world slipping to matriarchy. gotta get out there and challenge yourself, re-awaken that zombified part of yourself. if there aren't tall enough mountains, build one. then fuck that mountain with your penis.

Is how I feel about myself the only worthwhile evaluation of myself?

>am first time lurker in Veeky Forums

How can you determine what is real, if you need other people to do it, how do you "prove" they are real. How would I then go ahead and analyze what I've found beyond the illusions.

Is the best way of living, when you stop asking what questions to ever thing as a small kid, to remove all kinds of instincts so you can live a life of continuous why and how questions with the least amount of bias for possibilities, and a better way of thinking outside the box also known as creativeness

i was gonna fappit and opened up like 20 tabs of porn but i just couldnt get into it, i haven't fapped in literally a week i should be quite horny by now, idk man

Wtf man same here though

All you have is a bunch of images of the external world, your only choice is to try and make some sense out of that mess.

Im looking for edgy reactionary political work, like evola, except not some pagan faggotry. Any suggestions?

evola

I own a 50 years old paperback edition of Plato's dialogues and the retards used endnotes instead of footnotes. Whenever I have to turn all the pages and search for the note I'm scared of fucking destroying the book and I'm sure it will crumble down in a couple of rereads.