Write what's on your mind

you should try it
you won't have to do it again

on my nightly walks around the neighborhood i notice all the local teenage normies enjoying their summer. partying in backyards, sitting in street corners talking to one another. it depresses me a bit because i wish i could go back to their position. i was so dissatisfied with my life at the end of high school and college was supposed to be my new beginning, but in retrospect i fucked it all up. my gpa was strong, but i missed out on all the major social experiences. i didn't make a single friend there. i didn't really know how to. i commuted to a local school, so after class i'd just drive home to browse Veeky Forums all day. after two years of that i started associating with local degenerate drug-users who barely passed high school because the loneliness was too much. some of them were nice, some were assholes, most were pretty dumb. there were a few cute girls too but i never got laid. now all of that is behind me, i've graduated and gone back to my solitary ways, but i can't help but feel i missed out on something essential, or at least worthwhile.

Read some Proust, nigga.

Moonman rocks. A rock made of moon.

been meaning to

Suicide

same here i just wanna die.

Yeah, hope you get over this "God, I'm sure life's somewhere else, the only reason I'm miserable is because I don't hang around with the right people" bullcrap and realize you are not missing shit. Be safe desu.

Dogma stately maim clefairy girl

This migraine isn't going away.

I feel similarly, only I didn't even focus on my academics as much as I should have (I still did okay, had about a 3.4 GPA). A lot of the guys on my floor freshman year were friends who grew up in the same school system from elementary school onward and I was from out of state with no friends in the area. I introduced myself on move in day when they were all in one guys room and they were totally disinterested and dismissive. They ended up being retarded bros and I made a couple close friends and some decent acquaintances elsewhere but that moment kind of reinforced my disdain for a lot of people at the time and tempered my expectations throughout college.

This is not practice
It's the passing of time
As the only reality you'll ever know
Your past is dead forever
Never to return as something
Sweeter than it ever was

Badtouchbadtouchbadtouchbadbadpartbadpartbadpart I want to never leave the dark corner of my room again.

I have classes in around 10 hours but I'm here with you. I've been laughing at posts I made previously in another thread.

All the triggered pseuds. Thanks for the laugh, Veeky Forums.

she will be gone soon

Wow, that must be the best looking vagina I've ever seen.

My Witcher refuses to load and recently started crashing.

I'm scared my girlfriend is going to be pregnant. We are so young and have our entire lives ahead if us. And even though we don't know for sure if we are to be parents, the magnitude of the seriousness and responsibility is setting in. All i feel is hopelessness and melancholy. I just want to wake up from this bad dream. But, I know if i am to be a father, im going to grow up and take responsibility for my actions. I succumbed to my hedonistic desires and this is how i am punished.

junk touch junk touch
should i touch my junk

Yesterday I had a moment of Zen in the house-sized pool. The waves from canonballs and naked high-speed waterslide runs bounced and pushed my plastic donut floaty when I realized that Earth is 70% /this/ all the time. The land is just a feature of the pool planet, and its life is coincidental. I saw Willa the dog drag a plastic water bottle into the shade and bite its translucent twist cap off and saw it as any other phenomenon on the accidentally living planet. The world stood still and I was a passive observer, losing my sense of self completely—merely existing and being immersed in the perfect system. Then I snapped out of it and got anxious about the following day's job interview.

Why do people see children as a punishment and a life ender?
Sure, it will change the course of it, but it's perfectly fine and chances are you'll be quite happy about it.

SWEDEN YES
W
E
D
E
N

Y
E
S

I feel the precise opposite way. I am terrified of anything but total oblivion.

Been thinking about the concept of virginity for a while now. I fucked it up. Lost my virginity to my girlfriend who didn't only lose her virginity a long time ago but also had another one night stand in her life. And I don't live in US or somewhere losing virginity is like losing a pen... She says she regrets it but i feel more and more like i was lured into sin as i was the first she let to have sex unprotected and i just succumbed to hedonism. I strongly disapprove one night stands and if I can forgive her her past relationship i can't forgive that one fuccboy. But who am I to judge, I had some chances before to lose my virginity but did I not lose it because of luck or because I felt deep inside I shouldn't? I thought sex would unite us and make me love her more but now I spend everyday thinking about how strong couples I know lost virginity together and I threw it away for someone I keep seeing in my mind with another guy and feel like I'm gonna puke. I edven lash out at her every month or so when it just becomes too painful. After sex I feel empty and unsatisfied.
i think i've actually found a good christian idea and it's about love and devotion. true love is when you can trust your partner a 100% and that's where the concept of virginity comes in, it's for the best that two lose virginity together as it's symbolically giving that power, no matter how low the chance of conception, over yourself to someone and that requires complete trust. Should I go full hedonist and just fuck other women (she'd even let me) would i feel better or just more empty... I don't even know if I could do it... And with a virgin girl I wouldn't feel it's fair. Am I just a weak man who can't face his decisions and break up with a girl who is almost everything I wanted but a virgin and I think she really loves me.
Meanwhile I'm getting triggered by this fucking brave new world society, can't even function properly anymore. Fuck, shouldn't even write this here but I need get it out somehow or I'm going to actually hurt her again.

If I have some minor thing I have to do that's making me anxious I can't focus on anything or be productive during any of the time leading up to it, which is terrible, because there are usually minor things coming up that are making me anxious. As soon as I get through one, two more pop up. This is something I'm starting to realize I'm going to have to deal with in a focused way.

hang in there man. don't feel guilty about it. it's just a spook. you will finally forget that she was wirth someone before and it will feel like you have been forever together. fuck these other dudes. don't give them too much importance by thinking of them. she is with you now! everything else doesn't matter. you chose each other forget the past

here is a song about this topic to cheer you up:
youtube.com/watch?v=tb15AqEBhWU

You sound too young to be married so even if you lost your virginity together it would make no difference, ya'll are gonna break up anyway.

I mean sure, she could have waited and it would have been magical as fuck but that would have only been a memory in your mind because when you are standing in divorce court fighting for your property, money and custody of your children, the judge isn't gonna ask you about something as irrelevant as virginity... and you aren't gonna care about her virginity then either.

Besides, there's no law in the Bible that states that a man's virginity even matters. I don't know what you got that idea that it was a 'gift'. only a woman's virginity matters.

I finally got this thing going with a girl I love but I'm going on roadtrip for 3 weeks in a couple days. I'm excited about the roadtrip but also want to be with her

I think user has an enormous penis but I'm not sure he'll accept my feminine penis so I will always be too afraid to ask him out.
I'm not very good at this stream of consciousness stuff.

My brother is in the midst of a severe crack addiction. He hasn't been able to hold a job for around 7 mths and has been dealing and borrowing money from whoever will give it. This morning he took my car (well, my parents car that they call my car and let me use) without permission and crashed it. This is the 6th or 7th crash he has had in the past year and the 2nd time it has been my car. I am astounded he is not dead however can't help but feel that would fix almost every problem I have in life.

Music is a great and terrible thing. On one hand, it's a horrible waste of time; once you've heard a song once it becomes like a time capsule- there's no new stimulus if you've already heard the song, yet your body and feelings will react as you felt when you first heard or got to know the piece. This means just chilling with the wrong music can end with hours of your life suddenly gone, a surprise existential crisis, or both.

As a time capsule, it can serve the same purpose but to an end dictated by the memory your mind has attached to the song.

i want to bury my face in a big juicy ass

I was thinking the same but with my sister's sweaty ass.

ideas

I was thinking the same but my own ass.

I'm hopelessly addicted to the Internet and stimulation and have been using it to try to find a solution

Just messaged a girl on a dating site whose interests include anime and weaponry. Hope she responds.

I relate to Robert Smith in being a big, moody guy who can't find love and wants to die a lot, and I relate to Morrissey in being a smarmy dickhead who also craves dickheads

My best dreams tend to accompany nocturnal emission so I've been trying not to consciously fap to induce that. Fucked up this morning though, after two days withholding. Time to start anew.

I really want to avoid making my protagonist a Mary-Sue so I'll probably make him lose an arm or get tortured. It makes me hard anyway.

not that user but that's what i've been working on lately too.
it's hard.

He likes anime, what a phaggot.

I'm concerned that I'm possessed by the devil.

This is a hard notion to reconcile with a complete lack of faith in the metaphysical, but indeed, in the dark hours of the night I have no control over the thoughts that steal unbidden into my waking mind.

I catch myself out often; lying to myself, it's insidious, but perhaps I am too analytical to main self-deception for long.

The mind itself has a faculty of weaving an automatic web of falsehoods that comfort and deceive the subject into all manner of self-interested action, often at the expense of others.

Of course, we are often liable to reason to ourselves that the people we hurt deserved it, and are contemptible; but do we not learn to hate those who we have hurt simply to spare ourselves the guilt?

Is this the devil in men?
Is this why we do wrong and call it good?

What The Fuck

>I am too analytical to main self-deception for long

implying all thought isn't self-deception

The new Epic Rap Battle was funny. It'll be in my head all day as I go work my shift at Starbucks and beat myself up about how I should be writing. I'm a sack of shit with no discipline.

I think I'm going to use audiobooks to get back into reading. It's helped ease my transition a lot coming from music, though the French words can be difficult to understand.

Music from Big Pink is a good album.

dude you just described my life, but you left out the loneliness part.
ill help: I have noticed that nothing is worse than nothing. My dealings with intimacy have been a single-handed effort since the day i was born. True affection is the only commodity the world has ever really had, so it has never been given away in its fullest form. Its the reason love is a loaded question, its the reason we die alone and its the reason we die together. Affection is what we really mean by love. And love is selfish.

I wish I didn't have this catheter in, I wish my left leg wasn't stiff as a board, I wish the medication didn't make me vomit, I wish I didn't have go back down to London in three weeks to go to the hospital again. I wish I read slower so these books lasted longer than a day.

Religion must return as a driving force in society and the state. A new way of socially digesting and reinterpreting religious texts must be implemented. Religion must be democratized and stretched across all of society. Without Religion which was the driving force of my people, our culture will vanish but with the current religious schemes and popular interpretations we will stagnate and live like beasts.

Well, some people don't want children at all and only have them because of an "accident" or because of societal pressure as in "it's what you do".
So, if you're having kids for the wrong reasons it would probably feel like a "punishment" or "life-ender".

I really would like to read the rest of that.

I thought Robert Smith was happily married for years?

Morrissey is defs hella gay though.

>perfect system

This is what lifecucks actually believe

Agree the real punishment is the wanton abuse of the child which now has consciousness imposed upon it

I'm a genetic defect. An anomaly. I should have died when I was 8 yet I am kept alive by an artificial medication that my own body can not produce. I am a type 1 diabetic. I am a dead man walking sustained only by the productivity and products of the modern world.

My children have a 1 in 10 chance to inherit the same genetic defects from my corrupt walking carcass.

What life is this of pain, doubt and continual suffering. I would kill myself but altruism and love of those who allegedly need me keep me functioning as an automaton through this emulation of life. That and maybe some fear. But some how I doubt it's the latter.

Ideally I will be killed by freak accident and I will be at peace. I hope there is no Hell, I would be indifferent for there being a God or heaven for that matter. I just want peace.

Im actually kinda in the same boat man.

A great spirit lay inside the earth and they were one and yet separate and this was me.
I dug into the earth and turned it into many parts; tiny parts which no eye could see cause they were not there, chains which tugged till they could not break but coalesced into an ooze which merged and struggled until it dreamed a dream and then it talked to me.

Shrieking screams ramped terror
hellish heat personal defeat
manic rampage
strange young age
rebel armed brutal brigade
wishful aide
succulent run down of blood
with a heavy flow
falling snow sunk in the bloody aftermath
deathly rendition gaining a costly circumference
like a snowball riding down a infinite hill
death has no end or beginning
a timely tell
fragile as a sea shell
common junk mail
always given but never useful
set in a burning fire
brighter than man’s desire for worldly conquest
this is a mess

>would kill myself but altruism and love of those who allegedly need me keep me functioning as an automaton through this emulation of life.

Return my diary, thief.

are universals real entities that live on another plain of existance or just constructs of our minds?

Is anyone really responsible for who they are.

Personality?

WHAT THE FUCK.

How does one fall in love without projecting onto the Other to such a degree that the object of the love is more a creation of the Self than it the actual Other? Even Siegfried and Brünnhilde projected their own identities onto each other. Is it truly possible to love the Other, or is the Other, delineating the boundary of the Self, merely an opportunity to learn to love oneself? Does love only truly exist in a self-made illusion? I think that would be quite sad.

i'll go fall in love and let you know what i find.

i already have fallen in love though, thats why im worried
think it might be time to read some more hegel and listen to tristan

how does one read a book without projecting onto the author?

fuck you, im already dealing with enough here

I was thinking that it might be cool to visit Tunisia, but then I was also thinking that it might be more or less just like anywhere else and so I shouldn't visit Tunisia

When we choose silence, we choose to give up the reasons not to love, which are the reasons for going to war, or continuing war, or separating, or being a victim, or being right. In a moment of silence, in a moment of no thought, no mind, we choose to give those up. This is what my teacher invited me to.

Just choose silence. Don’t even choose love. Choose silence, and love is apparent. If we choose love we already have an idea of what love is.

But if you choose silence, that is the end of ideas. You are willing to have no idea, to see what is present when there is no idea, past, present, future. No idea of love, no idea of truth, no idea of you, no idea of me. Love is apparent.

- Gangaji, 2009

get your nihilism away from me. ill have none of this renunciation chat

One day I want to leave the city I live in and go somewhere else. But I know I will hate where I am no matter where I am so theres no point.

ok

Even if love is a self made illusion, if two people are in love, isn't there an overlap between their illusions? Couldn't we call that shared illusion something real?

I have this strange, disparate, passive obsession with fucking my own opportunities up so nobody else can. Destroying parts of my life before someone else does. Like, there's a weird, final sort of power found in suicide, literal or otherwise...but I guess that raises the question of control; is killing yourself succumbing, or escaping; rebellion, or submission?

Thats really good. I want to write about that. Have you written anymore on that?

Not coherently (you know how those little shocks of clarity sometimes strike through paragraphs of mud in your journals), it was actually just a whim reading through some of these other reflections. Though I guess now, it does align with a few other thoughts you all inspired.

I'd honestly trust you more than myself to elaborate for fear of mucking it up. But thanks for that, mate

Totally man, ive been needing something to write about and I like that im going to try atleast to elaborate there because I completely get that thought. Suicide frustrates me but at the same time seems fair.

The man who kills a man, kills a man. The man who kills himself, kills all men; as far as he is concerned he wipes out the world. His act is worse (symbolically considered) than any rape or dynamite outrage. For it destroys all buildings: it insults all women. The thief is satisfied with diamonds; but the suicide is not: that is his crime. He cannot be bribed, even by the blazing stones of the Celestial City. The thief compliments the things he steals, if not the owner of them. But the suicide insults everything on earth by not stealing it. He defiles every flower by refusing to live for its sake. There is not a tiny creature in the cosmos at whom his death is not a sneer. When a man hangs himself on a tree, the leaves might fall off in anger and the birds fly away in fury: for each has received a personal affront. Of course there may be pathetic emotional excuses for the act. There often are for rape, and there almost always are for dynamite. But if it comes to clear ideas and the intelligent meaning of things, then there is much more rational and philosophic truth in the burial at the cross-roads and the stake driven through the body, than in Mr. Archer's suicidal automatic machines. There is a meaning in burying the suicide apart. The man's crime is different from other crimes -- for it makes even crimes impossible.

GK Chesterton

I made the mistake of telling my Mum that I had a swelling on my arm, and ended up going to see a doctor to put her mind at ease. Once I got past the unhelpful reception staff the doctor made me feel really at ease. I still couldn't bring myself to tell her about the pain in my chest. There's this void, right at the base of my sternum.

Most of the time I'm not aware of it, but when I lie down to go to bed, or shut my eyes, there it is. At first it feels like someone is pressing down on my chest with their fist. It begins to pulse. As I write about it now I can feel it crawling out. I can try and ignore it but it just gets worse, and turns into this dull stabbing pain. If I roll around I can get it to subside temporarily but it comes back. I fall asleep when I'm completely exhausted.

I've overcome the pain only a few times. Once, lying in bed, I decided to simply focus on the pain, and accept whatever comes. Again, the dull, throbbing stabs, becoming almost unbearable. I felt like I was being torn apart. But slowly, the pain started to spread over my whole chest, the same amount of pain, just distributed evenly. At a certain point it started to simply feel like a warmth, enveloping my whole body. And I slept well.

I haven't been able to replicate this. I have an idea of how defeating the pain feels, and I latch on to that as a short hand. But it's the process that's important, not my faulty memory of the end result. My only option is to dive back into accepting the pain again. But I can't bring myself to do it.

Okay but that only supports anons question of complete control. Hes saying that suicide steals the worlds control of his consciousness. You are freed from the influences of the world; good or bad.

Good but keep a constant tone with your work. You were casual in the first paragraph then got really poetic in the last part. But the poetic part was pretty well written m8.

I’d assume that experiencing, or even interpreting the series of notes in Bill Evan’s rendition of Autumn Leaves is much like the evaluation of a piece of writing. Each note raises a certain awareness, recalls and reassociates your mind like riding a roller coaster of sense-impressions and little affectations. Now, each note doesn’t just stand alone awaiting it’s singular judgment, no sir. They must be thought in relation to the whole series of notes preceding and the notes that will follow, suspended in that free-associated gap which represents true, bonafide American freedom. This is just like reading a piece of literature, notes being words of course, and what makes each word in a sentence associate but the period? that little end stop indicating a complete thought? Now, any bastard can form a complete thought right? So then, there’s this historical little discursive data bank of all the hierarchies of what arrangement of words signifies humor, or an intelligent and profound thought or a dull, ugly impression or what have you. Whoever can ‘play’ with these series of associations and form a regional medium (poetry, jazz, literature), deemed most valuable by the little institutions formed around that discursive element, whoever makes a show of it find themselves atop a hierarchy, they're images for the discursive bank, establishing even their own little affectations and internet meme’s to banalize their dominating, structural role in society. The people who mold their interpretive, transcendental schemata around the ‘ideology of the ruling class’ gets a certain material compensation dubbed ‘money,’ forming a similar hierarchical wealth ladder. Images of peoples, like Steve Jobs or Bill Gates or Opera Winfrey (though why her particular idiosyncrasies anyone feels association with is beyond me), form as emblems to look up to and climb the social ladder, the physical substance of the ‘American dream.’ We see then, the ontologically similar series of discourse, or ‘regional ontologies’ that form around a similar principle, their differing forms merely masking the negation of the self underlying the whole series. The self is indeed under siege Mr. Roderick.

Knowledge is one such branch. Knowledge; what makes a certain assemblage of words true? Obviously, the world of things just is: ‘beyond Good and Evil’ so to speak.

You okay? You follow me? You incipient fuck. Jk, lol, omg, my bad.

When did it all go wrong?

Belief is embodied truth. Okay. What does that mean? I’ll answer with another question: What does it mean to act truth? Most likely to act without qualm, as if it were a matter of fact, not right or wrong. So then: embodied right? Where does that fit in? We could broadly call a Nation or any institution a body. We could even delimited the notion to individual bodies, peoples, which in turn make up the larger social bodies like State or Multi-National Corporation. But who am I to say?

sorry for your loss man

learn to use condoms

is this bait?

I'd like to write a book in a similar vein as Deleuze's Cinema 1 & 2, but for sample-based musical genres like hip hop, breakbeat, vaporwave, plunderphonics, breakcore, etc, specifically focusing on the mechanism of the sample as such

I think I should be reading
I think I should have a more consistent sleep schedule
I think I should wash my pillow case and sheets more often
I think Maolin might mail me soon
I think I should increase the dosage
I think I could take Maolin the orchestra concert 7 years from now
I think I will feel safe 7 years from now
I think I will travel

I hope I am talking to that-one 7 years from now

I hope that-one doesn't kill herself

Kill me

you don't mean it but I get what you mean.

In a much less pretentious (not bad of course, as it is self-aware) and sophisticated way, I should tell you that Bill is one of the most important individuals in my wake life. So I very much appreciate you posting this. I feel you could write quite a lot more, but it's good how it is.