Write what's on your mind

>right now i am drunk as fuck it..
We can tell.

Writing a novel is extremely taxing and arduous.

"what's on your mind"

all I want is a nice conservacuck girl who takes care of herself and likes to read. Is that too much to ask?

Please kill me

Frustration desu.

Wanting so bad yet failing, even after sincere effort. I don't feel equipped to be what I want to be in life.

I want to master something but I never produce anything that I can look at proudly. I practice and practice but out comes this shit.

I think these are symptoms of having an average IQ, or rather whatever IQ is supposed to represent. I think I'll never really get what I want, even if I pour myself into it. I hate being myself, but I'm still afraid of dying.

Everyday revolves around this thought and whether I am overcoming that particular day or not. Today it seems to be the latter, and I'm exhausted.

autism speaks

it is, isn't it?

cool story bro

you must be drunk

>he needs an institute to make him a student

those protesters own your mind hard

it should be an iterative process of simple joys

0/10. superfluous quotes

apparently so far it is

11/10

waaaaaaaaaaaaa

What am I thinking about? Probably nothing, I generally don't begin thinking until 8 or 9 PM. I have things I should be doing, and here I am. What a waste of time, I gotta go.

another day of wagecuckery tomorrow

just end it lads

I'm sleepy

I actually would probably like to get married one day. However, I'd need to get married to someone who I could share all my weird and terrible fetishes with. I feel like in a proper marriage you shouldn't hide anything from your spouse, so I'd have to tell her about all my /d/ and /trash/-tier kinks. I hope I can find a woman who will go for that.

I think I should quit college. I don't have the math abilities required to complete a degree in economics. My parents won't pay for me to study something like English.

There's not a single moment of the day that I don't feel discomfort.

That's what jobs are for.

Ugh.

Tell them you want to go to law school and then major in philosophy or English which are two of the best pre law majors.

"the hardships and endeavors of the near future will put yourself to the test. This is it, this is that another chance even though the odds of completing this task will be stacked against you. Don't fret. You've done this before. You've got a trick up your sleeve this time."
short free write about my nervousness of going back to college

I really like her, but she didn't want me, so I cut her out of my life.

this dumb story no one will buy it holy shit I suck so much I shouldn't have used so many 'was' in that action scene I didn't know what to do I hope I get negative reviews so I can feel like someone at least understands my fucking pain here god damn you am I that lonely? Seriously? Fuck you, get out of my head! No you, nigger digger spic cadaver killer.
Why am I writing this damn post I should fap and go to bed god dammit I'll never get better at writing I need to read those books gotobednigger

I'm in a similar boat, just took a year off, going back spring. What's your sleeved trick? Was hoping to find mine might be new understanding

metaphor for having higher maturity and experience.

I wish people didn't tell me some things are impossible. Are they? Why are things the "way they are" and why is that basically the end of whatever it is? Why does everyone give up so easily because they are told something can't be done?

That part in The Matrix about there being no spoon is an interesting one to me. What if that is actually true in a way? What if things are not impossible even if they seem improbable because we doubt it or are told it to be so? Am I ranting like a lunatic?

i don't really want to go to the gym today
i'd rather stay at home and eat doritos and read a book
but if i don't go my girl might not wank me off later

i want her to wank me off
oh well off i go

seeing my life from outside point of view, and it is terrible i tell you, even if i meditate and paint-draw, play my old guitar, well, im still learning, learning through creating something, writing what's on my mind once in a while in my diary, im only 19 years old, my life basically just begun, or it hasn't yet, i just dont know, but i just dont know...

>ugh, why...
>fuck

I might just rape her so I can move on and focus on other things.

top kek

youtube.com/watch?v=MtcLh_8eOic&list=PLnGBcsajZuOCOvRya_zbkCEXkW2h1yEmz

I've got it all. But I can't do anything worthwile with myself. I want to escape and live freely, but I don't know how. I value myself too much to just waste my life.

Wtf hahaha.
Now thats what i call cucked.

My skin feels like clothing that's a size too small. I would just like someone to notice me, smile at me. I want to experience love again.

>it should be an iterative process of simple joys

That's just, like, your opinion, man.

Love is an STD

I think I liked it better when I was just her customer. I fucked it all up when I asked for her number b/c I always go for crazy pussy. She was nice whenever I go to get a coffee at her work, now, she'll throw whatever she can get her hands on, fucking pans, bricks (that was yesterday), plates, etc. I'm scared as fuck to end it like a gentleman.

get cucked xdxd

ok user whatevs
i went to the gym today and i got a handjob
what did you do?

go out and smash pussy

It's really fucking disheartening to have a professor who is obviously brilliant and in possession of a really, really interesting distinct little "packaged" way of approaching a certain problematic or field of discourse, like he has this qualitatively novel or exceptional miniature Weltanschauung or instinct that he can activate as a "unit" and just completely untangle what had previously been a fundamental antinomy for the entire field because everyone else was just battering their own funadmentally ineffective methods/perspectives against it like cudgels instead of hitting the magical shatterpoint that makes it unravel and resolve itself, and then have the guy be a) completely uncomprehending of the fact that you are aware this is a singular thing he is doing, while other people can't see the forest for the trees and just assume he has a big grab-bag of methodological quirks, b) possibly unaware himself that he has stumbled onto a qualitatively new thing and not just a well-constituted grab-bag, and c) annoyed and dismissive when you repeatedly try to demonstrate you want to grok his approach

I feel like I'm living in a world full of people who never thought of the idea of the butterknife, but kept trying to butter their toast with sharp cutting knives, and here's this guy who has clearly become conscious of this problem and gone out of his way to make special blunt knives for himself so he can more easily spread condiments on his toast and I'm like "dude how did you make that, I totally see what you're getting at and I agree, let's tell all the other guys about it so they can stop having shittily buttered toast" and he's like WHY ARE YOU IN MY KITCHEN? I GUESS I JUST LIKE KNIVES OR WHATEVER WHO CARES GET OUT

I wish I could go home and read The Brothers K but I'm looking at another hour of work and an hour of travel.

I feel for the "start with the greeks meme"
Now I cannot escape. Did you now spartans perfected their army to keep the slaves from revolting?

I'm regretting that cold leftover pizza straight out of the fridge, and trying but failing to summon the motivation to work on my current writing project.

On the other hand, I have a nice hot chocolate.

Believable.

Athens was built on the backs of slaves.

Infanticide in Athens and Sparta and elsewhere was astronomical, but I can see why they did it.

I'm never going to be a succesfull director and i probably should stop wasting my time on thinking and writing absurd script, better focusing on the real world. But at the same time i haven't even tried to be a director and i feel like if i don't try i'm just going to find myself regret my choises for my entire life

What field you in?
More details user please

I used to really like writing fantasy and science fiction, and I still do. However, in the last few years I've developed an interest in writing literary fiction, along with magical realism; this has stemmed from reading more Modernist writers.

I want to get my literary writing published, but I also want to get my sci-fi/fantasy writing published. And I want to do it all under my name, instead of using a pseudonym. How do I find an agent, when most modern agents seem to be heavily specialized?

Why does it occur to me day upon day that not one is not interested in who I am as this "material individual" that will soon decay from this physical universe. The feel of blending in with the rest of society is frightening.

Thank moot for the "hide threads" function. No sffg plebs and I don't have to see high schoolers' dumb Tinder stories! :DDDD

It's not all about Tinder. We'd listen to your playing-Runescape-every-Friday-night stories in return.

>It's not all about Tinder

It's all about NOT LITERATURE. Honestly, you're just annoying, if you want the truth of it. There are a variety of other boards you could post your blog on fyi, and a variety of different sites.

I thought you hid the thread?

I did.

Thanks for the bump :^)

So you're just here to..

tell us what's on your mind?

Yes, and what's on my mind is that I've now hidden 6 threads from the catalog.

You can study something without taking a course. Learn something on your own.

Checkmate, bitch.

iktf onii-senpai

But most jobs are dead-end. You aren't working towards anything, you're just grinding out the days.

What is dried milk and how would it taste?

Just googled it and apparently powdered milk is a thing.
So...yeah.

You did not know about the existence of powdered milk?

Not him, but I wish I didn't.

Well I know baby formula was a thing but I always thought of it as a necessary (busy mother, lactose intolerant baby that sort of thing). I never would have considered powdered milk as something people would consciously go out and buy as I can't think of a reason why you would ever need powdered milk.

Crime and Punishment is such a comfy read, desu.

I wrote this today. Sometimes I feel bad man.

I think the world has come to be to serious. Or maybe it was always just that way. I just wish we all could be naive again, believe in childish things like fairness and being kind. I think we've all got ourselves wrapped up into things we can not control, but we think we can. As a society we've collectively drunk the kool-aid that says somethings are worth killing for, ruining people's lives for. Stay safe.

why do i really like super happy bubbly girl bt date the emos who are suicidal.

I want to be able to go anywhere I want in the world, have romance with women around the globe, nights out under the stars and cool desert breeze with a busty brunette who loves wine, an afternoon kayaking in the exotic Caribbean islands with an adventurous, romantic blonde as the sunset taints the trees a beautiful orange-gold, nights up in a penthouse in the middle of downtown Manhatten, the feint lights and noises of the the city below almost masquerade the quiet whisper of a petite French girl in bed, curled up with me, drinking hot chocolate on this chilly winter night. The snow gathers up on the windowsill.
God I fucking want that so bad. I want to date more women, get into the game, have romance, drink wine and listen to classical piano and eat carpaccio and read books with girls, get to know each of their personalities, learn about women, compare and contrast them. Romance is just so fucking fun.

Because you have something in common. People love to commiserate.

Going cold turkey on my rhinitis medicamentosa.

Life or happines seems fake to me, or very impersonal. Seeing someone smiling, enjoying what the day has brought to them always feels unreachable, devoid of any apparent possibility that would assure me that i will truly be like them, a smile on my face real as the sunlight, clear thoughts on the mind, and a heart free of thorns. What is present for them would be past for me. A time where i don´t belong.
And whatever wish there is to transform what is an eternity for myself are short lived, epehemeral and insignificant. Wishes that are imprioned in a transparent cage, only with apparent freedom to the eyes and a claustrophobic sensation when tha hand touches the wall. They will never get out, nor do i desire them to.
I exist, but i don´t believe it.

Pardon my english, it is not my first language.

>learn about women

Like the heat,
I make the ladies sweat.
What you're trying to learn about women,
I'm trying to forget.

t. Maestro Fresh Wes

im known for not feeling anything. any emotion for anything.

I put too much stock in astrologers, even if I am one myself. I was just listening to a woman who does astrology readings out on the west coast who I paid like $500 for a reading 2 years ago. I thought I'd listen to the mp3s of her speaking for 5 hours again, that maybe it would ring true -- but it just made me angry that someone who ostensibly is one of the best astrologers in her field and who I paid so much money for could be so WRONG about who I am, what my potential is, and what my life is about. Basically, she painted a pitful and depressing picture of a salesman on the road living out of motels, and she said that I would teach at universities, and that I would be a musician, and that I'd be a marketer... none of it true. I found myself cursing at the recording, "Wrong, wrong! How can you be so fucking WRONG?" I was furious. I guess what really bothers me is -- what if she ends up being right, and my life really is just as sad and drab and mediocre as that? What if there's no avoiding it?

Life continues to escape me
I feel like I want romantic relationships and connections but I also realize they aren't for me and I'm easily bored by these things but still crave the intimacy and connection
It's this strange feeling of loneliness that I understand the source of and actively try to combat but still lingers
Makes me think whether or not I'll ultimately fulfill the goal of life, ya know, propagating your genetics and making a legacy through children
If I don't do that, what's the point in life? Am I just a genetic deadend?

t. me

Can't decide if I want to write fantasy or if I want to try and write a real Veeky Forums novel, and whether or not to restart my diary now or in december. Also I don't know if I should try and start writing now or read more and then get into it.

I can't say I'm glad to see someone in the same boat as me but it's reassuring to see that I'm not alone
I'm not sure if it's an existential crisis, mainly because I'm not big into existentialism but one of my friends told me these feelings are common in Nausea by Sartre, so I'm gonna pick that up soon

I'm sure we'll be fine though user, the best way out is through

i wanna smoke some pot

I will never be whole again.
I watched someone shoot himself today in an effort to get his girlfriend back. skull fragments and blood and brains everywhere. I've broken countless ribs needlessly trying to revive those who are ready to die. I've found weeks-old corpses who nobody cared enough to check on other than me for their appointments, and their dogs and cats had started to gnaw at them because of how long theyd been dead.
ive watched men and women cry because their children havent spoken to them in years. ive watched a woman's hands rot off because she refused to take her rubber gloves off in fear of contracting an infection. ive reported repeated rapes, witnessed physical abuse to the point of death.
this job wears at me so much some days. it makes me wonder who the hell even cares except for us. who the hell takes care of their parents anymore?
its so commonplace that it doesnt even surprise me anymore when i witness a disgusting way to die.
if the world had a doctor it would be diagnosed with advanced cancer.
im tired. im so very tired and i want it to slow down. i need for it to slow down.

I cannot form the words that describe my thoughts and emotions, whenever I try to truly express what is within me it is stacked syllables of nonsense, a half-language of meaningless noise.

What is to become of us? We brothers on this planet Earth, we who have spilt, do spill, and shall spill again each other's life upon the world; for what do we strive? For what purpose is our machined life? How far may we go forth into the darkest night afore we find the light? Be it blinding or revealing?

Holl for now came thee that sought, and such was the fire that burns in flesh on soiled bones. How quoth the kelman? Drilt much those ways that bind; heavy is the soil of the lands we walk. Kremase! For built was this we know upon the backs of backs, the tiding whirl of all ours is but the echoes of the forebearers, and of their father's own.

Thei wilch em, folken folk for with thy hand, and nou upon thei brakten schire: sych meln upon wilch their bairn come sovtly, broken nou aneth en leit the brakten oldenfolk.

Schult til maanilkjiel, maklimooral, ycromacol sisctoptalja er chümnalos'se'her, ckel rom nontellja. Husc vei tjelan fornagresaatvasderat.

Fermockalnitlachtjaschiteivomolatiscackevisimecgleordoscivestilbetjaktos-gaedamosekalremestrosererkomolamnistishremalos. Remalksretyouramoslostapkreltyaarsmanos.

I want to be better at so many things and I doubt I can get to them all in time.

Why isn't there a board for fine art? I feel like just dumping my whole folder on Veeky Forums one of these days.

what am i supposed to get out of life if im not passionate about anything? i dont love learning or exercising or writing or music, but i like them passively and enjoy them to an extent. am i supposed to wait until i find my niche or do i just dedicate myself half assedly to some hobby or area of study to give my life a bit of meaning?

there is no beauty in this world

I've never seen ideology this pure.

These threads always remind me of the fact that, beneath the surface, Veeky Forums is basically /r9k/ with books.

Spoiler: so is all of Veeky Forums

wasn't that discredited

Yeah but pretty much all the books we talk about are the same thing in one form or another