Abstract writing thread

Clay squid under ocean's attire, buried under Allah's Will. It gropes the elephant's wife: First Lady Goddess, Half Poseidon. And a hotdog will. And a hotdog will.

Jesters aside, the brutal non-rape of the cobwebbed princess was depressingly unawful. The Non-Events coincided and intersected and it was all beautifully Void. Mirrors reflected our Che robes and motion resurrected Marx. Brisk and bombastic was the speech and then there was Void again.
Time again. Void again.
The Red Ajah sighed softly. The Wheel turns again.

We was flippin coins.
I was no gamblin man but the birds done asked me to. brought me a penny and I fed it cabbage pie.
Lincoln screamed a sudden *tink* as the tooth of my thumb contacted that copper disk with such velocity as to shatter the very calcium in my bone, it did mix into the wet of my thumb's interior.
I stuck my thumb in my mouth, sucked the bone powder and blown out flesh and the nail and the skin. Tasted of appleflesh.

Lincoln flew up and I'll be damned if he didn't shoot a cavity straight through the firmament and look God dead in the eye.
He matches God's stare and he emancipated and he proclimated and the Lord God did shed a tear for the coins perfect geometry.

I looked down at the birds.
The cabbage.
The blood of my thumb the dripping of which bore fauna.
None of it was worth it.
I should've just been an alligator.

this is oddly refreshing

Lowly lusty frustrating formulating Finnegan forming forts for female Finns who whine when worlds wane without winning waking Wednesday wither wander ponder pander picking penultimate petunias beneath bombastic boisterous bridges binned binning bin Bert that trite tormentor trim Tim the tumultuous Tory true tridents trusting time to train their tracking to kill kissing Koreans coming cursed coins creating culled children of ornamental ornaments ornamenting ornately ornate ornaments or Ornette on onomatopoeia asking Alex about all alone aloof Americans and answering at Athens

He would not 'look up' optimism was a tool created by the rich to keep the bourgeois down. The dank chamber was becoming overwhelming for the man; no longer could he develop a coherent thought. It was the happiest he had ever been

This sentence in not self referential.

"Are you aware who you're FUCKing with kid??" The police officer screamed, dampening the young man's shirt with his saliva. "I was Jus tryna get my Dick sucked, offica. After all she was a Bad Biitch." The offending party replied - Conjecturing, the policeman quickly hit him with his baton thinking about which TV show he'd watch later.

Twenty tears later,
It came to be that
life is f l e e t i n g ;

Let us not waste
it on sorrow and
despair. That is
the truth. Only
through (y o u)
does it matter
what happens
next >>

I AM THING KING
KING OF THE THINGS AND A THOUGHT NEVER CROSSED MY MIND
I REACH MY FROG HAND INTO THE MURK, THE MURK, THE VOID AND I WRAP MY AMPHIBIAN FINGERS AROUND SOME SHAPE, SOME GREY MATTER.
A THING. I AM ITS KING FOR I AM THING KING
and I've come up with an idea

We called him 'Neckface' because he had no ears.
Fuck that guy. Mock my pears? My TANGERINES?!
I'll fucking find him in his sleep. I'll shave my ass hairs and sprinkle them into his mouth and he'll wake up wondering why his mouth feels like a dog's ass when he should be waking up wondering why he's such a faggot.
god damn his frontal lobe.
don't you ever speak of my tangerines.

through my lids i can see yellow-green boughs

Whenever a thread like this comes around I immediately have the urge to type of an intentionally retarded vernacular about shitting my own pants.

Nothing left but it is still here. Me my pals standing centrestreet and sudden time goes off the rails the rails being clocks and movement and inner feeling of us. It happened because they misunderstood the joke, laughed awkardly, and then the me in them as lost, and the shrinking crawled from the stopped streets the cars frozen, ate them whole, gobbled the City around and became it, and now oh it is on my legs arms and I retreat within the little observer box hidden inside physiology. Agoraphobic blesses ignorance of the fact the roof and the sky above are the same so was I until then. Swallows this my body and the neurons cry for help where is the exit, they saw my pals and now the pals are consumed, they want in on the salvation ark. But there the place is only for me. And it receeds. The pals resume the time resums City card people words go their separate ways now.

I keked so loud that my dresser fell and blocked my door and my neighbor heard it and he got spooked and he tripped on his dog and the dog barked and took a shit on his floor and the man grabbed the shit and he put it in a bag and he opened his door and he closed it so that the dog wouldn't get out and he walked over to my front porch and he knocked on my door and i tried to open the door but there was a FUCKING dresser in front of the FUCKING door so I had to FUCKINg get out through my FUCKING window and walk over to the man and by the time I got to him the dresser broke through the door and slammed on his face and he's dead now

I beside her shot on film or tried to his dive but she just as she'd been interrupted passing on to me a weird family yet neighborhood question Corona's Italian wife Bea had put to her as they had biked home the night before through rain divided and gathered and caressed by trees now tonight saw him pull off a two-and-a-half at a public pool under the lights that went out totally for a moment, a breaker fluke that went unexplained, as he left the board plunging us if not my camera into nowhere and came back to reveal him just passing the crest of the yet undisclosed dive now crunched into tuck – as I became aware of the old woman of a year ago with the spotted skin and the veins materialized now as if by the power glitch itself beside me seeming to say hello with a word: for Umo's dive was so busy a somersaulting that when he just came out of it he's someone unaware of you headed somewhere else gone forever, my sister said, or executed, it came to me she had murmured to herself or me, I thought if anything a sucked-downward tongue or perfect loss.

Wow this is actually really good. Not memey at all.

He demanded that we call him "Jered and the Moose", he being Jered of course.
We never saw any Moose but he insisted it was there, followed him everywhere he went except the port o' potty. I never believed him but I called him Jason and the Moose anyway. He said the Moose didn't like going unacknowledged.
Then one day we were crossing the street and a bus was coming and out of nowhere the bus hit some massive thing unseen and there was a BANG and there was an explosion of blood, bones, flesh, and goddamn Moose fur. Jered in the street, crying and shouting, holding massive antlers close to his chest, blood and skin hanging from them. blew my damn mind seeing those ropes of Moose bowels wrapped around the bicycles on the bus's bike rack.
We don't call him Jered and the Moose anymore. Just Jered.

"JUST BECAUSE MY CHAIR HAS ARMS DOES NOT MAKE IT AN ARMCHAIR" she shouted down the hallway as she rubbed babyoil on the luscious muscular biceps of the chair in which she sat.

fuck her. it's a fucking armchair.

"I wasn't myself" she said, leaning forward and kissed my lips.
"I wasn't myself
I wasn't myself
I wasn't myself
I wasn't my self
my self" she said, leaning forward and kisses the layer of chapstick on my lips.
and she was right, I was her self
And I was myself
And we were alone, digital fragments convulsing in the dirt.
She leaned forward and created a mixture of saliva and chapstick and Stubb's famous barbeque sauce and dick.
My father was a metaphysicist and ate only brussel sprouts.
He would've called this moment a paradigm shift, but he forgot it's phone number. Instead we sat.
She was not herself and I was not myself and my breath smelt of brussel sprouts. G

David Foster Wallace emulation?

If it's not in self referential, where is it?

I've never read any of his books.
Is that really what he writes like? I see a lot of discussion about him but didn't know he was THAT abstract

Its the lotion on it's skin
it is skin the lotion is on
Rubbery bubbly melting skin
like a jew in an easybake oven

Please stop and never do that again

We were king of shit for shitskins such as ourselves shell shit in the designated shitting street, super clogged colons squirting soft and delicate fecal specimens.

This sounds like the plot of a fucking Shel Silverstein poem

I only go irl
so I can post
about it online

Saw a sketch of his face on the local news a man not older than 67 white hair and cracked skin the consistency of red clay.
Blue eyes clear and unobstructed and an ironed crew neck.
Beside him a photo spliced down the middle in such a way where the subjects were halved in comparison. Red hair and green eyes the both of them two woman twenty years between them mother and daughter.
in the hours prior amber alerts have sung their sorrows from hundreds of thousands of cellphone speakers in isolated areas across the metropolitan area wide and sprawling a concrete foundation of asphalt beneath the man as he outmaneuvers the police winding and slinking and creeping through corridors and alcoves.
And the amber alerts sound waking moonlighters and degenerates midday a purse without person found on the sidewalk a house empty and void and a red Toyota pickup with a personalized license plate unaccounted for.
A waitress tells me she thinks they're dead the two of them beside each other dug into a shallow grave the motive unclear but the man was apparently a notorious pedophile with a past that would make any reasonable person shudder and then images of worms and maggots and soil and rot and the seven year with her face pressed against the glass drifting at 70 mph down a busy highway evading the rescuers as her mother rocks back and forth and mumbles beneath her breath the police radioing to each other about suspicions and assumptions one unit at a dive drinking abandoning duty refusing to believe reckless neglect.

He does a lot of stream of conciousness and run on sentences without punctuation.

It's over ahead. And together it made it over behind?

Were it still the space over behind was ahead or did the way we waded over. Worry worry turn turn worry.

So after it had the far dark ahead. It's a creeping feeling.

Collapse precipitates precipitation, perception prohibits perception of presupposed entities

So yes, it's a creeping feeling, and it hits you all at once just when it's thought you think you're behind.

So yes

You're okay

But who really takes it over to decide it for yourself? Is your you yanking yours they're the table and napkin, napkin cleaning, cleaning the table?

Sits on downwards, torn apart.Sits on downwards,

Or is the over stairs

Or is the starcase can tumble over, your mind takes it advantage every notion in which you thought you could allow itself to manifest yourself in itself now you know and fully truly believe to be your satan, no youre satan. Your satan you're satan an sant a clause is com

ing to town.

So now you decide that it was all for accidents. And before what you knew was behind turns and forwards ahead.

So you take it with you

and it's

mea
ning
less

das it mane

see

Or wwas it really have that way?

Have it or not you think your thoughts sleep leak into your brain.

Don't be afraid cult

CUlt =sa si not, your illusion takes place vision eyes ar=

EOOOEOOOEOOO

Now this is exactly or was it meant to say UNexactly itself now was.

No really it's only a dog and it's owner is merely you, you take it out nightly for a walk and it walks over though the sidewalked streets to shit and pisss on the grass, even when there is no grass the dog shits on pisses for the ass is not a muscle but an idea, and ideas are bigger than assholes. You let the dog chase a car and it gets run over by yourself chasing the car right behind it, is this the normal thing which you percieve or what that really you who was the dog,

WHy did you let yourself squish your asshole will never shit again. That was a good deal leashed the leash and the leash leash safe, it wasn't as if you were just a dog but NOW

YOU FUCK
so it's over and you walk home and your tail between your eyebals and your eyebalsl between yourasshole and your asshole doesnt known you're name anymore b ut you know he's still shitting so you keep watch

and hold it close to your heart
and you promise never to let go

It's not a dependency.

The buildings are too tall

No building should have that many windows

No windows should have that many stories

yoU don"t Lie.

You Don't Le.

You ADONT LAIE

you don't lie

So now you slip back

sludge slip slipperly slop

black tar drip drops

and you

drip

drop

Waiting.

Death waits on no man.

you have a small dog and the dog has no legs and the dog has no tail and you own a hoodie sweater and you slip that little dog into that front pocket with which one warms one's hands and you take that pup with you everywhere you go and that legless abomination of a pup witnesses the world from that sweater sideways and so goes it's thoughts which travel as perpendicular as it's own migration.
iIIIIiiiiIiiIIiIIIiIiIIIiiIIIiiIiIiIiIIiiIiIIiIiiiiI
and when you wake and your arms and legs have left you for another I will carry you on my back, just don't speak DONT FCUKING TALK just let me carry you, let me do that for you
shut UP.
K............X
my how you've grown
But you've gone nowhere at all
just upwards a few inches

Bane and CIA are lovers; they fuck every night, but tonight.

One more time For good Measure.

How old Are you?

It falls.

You know what that means,

You haVe Freedom

You have RespOnsibilities

i am 19

i have responsibilites

i am busy. This is my life: I Understand. I'll get used too it

No, you don't.

You haven't been here for me as a friend,:

Where have I been then?

You are depending on me completely and beyond that you have had a growing infatuation with me.

It falls.

Because you don't take my feelings into consideration.

You're idea of me is clouded completely.

And for a brief moment, we miss our stanky asshole.

: Can you just tell me what it is then?

EVERYONE THINKS IM A MANIPULATOR BECAUSE WHAT YOU HAVE TOLD PEOPLE in the past.: That's not true at all though, I'm sorry

It falls. Three lungs and 6 stomach isn't enough for one human body. There isn't enough oxygen.

I can't even tell anyone anything because I don't want anyone to hate you.

BUT you act like you don't do SHit.

: What do I do??
: I Know I'm Dependent I Understand

Act like you don't stalk me pratically and you didn't do to me what u did to me in the past

It falls.

He lies.

:IT sucks I'M sorry I hAVE abandonment issues.

I just can't do it anymore I'm breaking: You're right

You Creep Me Out So mUch and I FEEL like Im gonna get raped
And you have already tried to molest me
I'm not
Gay.

(But I See Right Through It, and IT"S Black. But I see RIght THrough It)

:What???

And I don't appreciate what you did too

: I Thoguht He was saying things about me

[drown them]

I just can't be your friend anymore this is too much shit I can't take it anymore I'm going insane

: please, I'll stop.

I'm scared of you I have to admit this
I'm Sorry.

:Why?

( all i kn ow h o w t o o s a y )

Good bye.

______

It falls.

Soiled myself. I soiled myself. I SOILED MYSELF. I soiled myself. I soiled myself. I soiled myself.

TSoOOO.

Thinks it OKay. For long were in apartments, and I miss the purple koolaid. BrothersrehtorB. You store yourself in my chest so I hold you there, you stay here because it's safe. You want out but you were never inside. '

I am am empty cage inside of your head. Rattle on the bars and I call it masturbation. Ten paces in ten circles in 9 brains for 6 souls who are 3 people and only 2 bodies.

I don't believe in One.

>that's that

A market of desire

A desire of markets.
A
R
E

We are. Old men with struggles hard for it to why he is.

Why do we do it? His money is in the game and my game is fo

nevermind

you can't understand

A brief release. The crushing of my skull. I turn my insides-out and my outsides in. Maybe I'll Make it Through Alive.

I believe that my current reality is an ironic reflection to that of a true one.

my=our, in the sense that i am.

and one the man who seen all seas from the back of a cow drifted away into clouds of tobacco covered dreams thinking endlessly of the heat of youth.

If you look up you can see the bombs
hanging overhead like ornaments for some holy day.
they're gonna collide with our streets and buildings, turn us into fire
(applause)
they're just mad because we bombed them first, killed all their kids and shit. they thought that was pretty rude. jokes in them because we didn't think at all.
(more applause, cheers)
my grasp is slipping I can feel it I can feel my mind I can't feel my mind.
those bombs will eventually hit. Turn us into fire. For a fraction of a second, I will be a burst of flame.
(a roar of applause, loud cheers)
I'm tired of being in my skin I wish I could step out of my body with the same ease as stepping out of my room, but the moon is too cold and I've already forgotten how
(silence)
I'm sorry I've just forgotten how
(silence, awkward shuffling)
Please forgive me I'm only Amanda
I'm only Amanda. I can't even eat.
(murmuring)
those bombs are gonna hit
and I'm gonna be a flame

>the man who seen all seas from the back of a cow

the genderswapped rape of europa?

There is a place where the wind will blow, but seldom heard. Only sorrowful goodbyes hear how the winds cry.

Where is it?

she told me that she loved me
and I told her that I needed time
so she gave me that
and I spent it on affection until I had enough for her
and so I told her that I loved her
and she told me that she made a mistake
and I asked her why she waited until I was vulnerable
and she said she didn't know
and since all those years ago I haven't felt a thing
and I'm glad to have found a hidden place where I could bury that.

I'd appreciate it if somebody kept this thread somewhat alive so I can add some more nonsense tomorrow, gotta go to bed.

neckface is the shit

When it goes it comes back, always. But when it leaves it does not.

"It's gone now" she said.

The imminent wonder occurs.

Cringenworthy reddit tier thread.

Derrick swings like a child
it remembers tingling feet
the first time it jumped

In the beginning there was an idea
the thought of change
the hope for something more in life
than the limits set on our rights
why limit ourselves
stop and think
dont let them do it for you
we make our stories
dont let society freely shape them

Her mouth softly spelunked his vast cenote of a bunghole, likewise festooned with sinuate lianas and furtive algaes and grasping mosses, gourmandizing of the archipelago of cocoa-pebbled dingleberries which perched tenuously upon the points of his ass hairs. "Jacqueline," Jeffrey jostled, jingling the aforementioned dingle-hairs as unto sleigh-bells, "Plumb my depths." His face contorted with the ecstasy of it.

Jacqueline, her spirits exhorted by his erotic-pleadings, sought deeper caverns, prospecting the chocolate nuggets which she so prized. "Meme me," he whispered, raving like an inquisitor, "Meme me meme me meme me meme me! Augfh!"

And with one exerted expulsion, he shat in her mouth.