/holyiwantmore/

best so far

Only one pancake remained, two if you counted the labrador.

a quip? what is a quip, if not a word?

everything that starts as a comedy ends like a tragedy...

I really do want more of this, jesus christ.

why be different when you can be yourself

The secret of being a bore... is to tell everything.

It was a doggy dog world, and she was a cat person

Broads like her were a diamond dosin

I dove down into her sea weed fronds and suckled her damp squid.

A man who doesn't ride his horse is doomed to be buried with it

The worst things about dreams is that when you wake up, your mother's guts are still inside her body.

the fact of the matter is that facts dont matter.

Woa8809184Wogah woah woah are you me? Where the fuck did you hear that? I used to make fun of the Gothic/emo kids in high school by asking them that.

Pull the band-aid off a little too fast and tell them something they don't want to hear

Be loud like a gun, and just as misunderstood.

She whispered in my ear, "the only way to free yourself is to latch the handcuffs tighter."

Then... I woke up

Acknowledging that you wear a mask does not remove the mask

Longest way home is the shortest way round.

If my aunt had a dick, she'd be an uncle.

If you're always coming up your gonna come down like a bandicoot, get me bub?

Hurried steps on iced floor echoing down the streets of michigan. Cold Noon and sharp gusts of frozen life hitting nose and eyes. Flesh beneath a mountain of second skin. The gift of earth's childs to protect us from the gods. Gigantomachy. Gaia's love lives on. It was on this day, the 21th of November that i faced my greatest battle. It was only one enemy who remained; two if you counted Zeus.

Susan and I had come to this factory to catch the essence of our time. The abrasive noises of the factory were to us a divine intervention in this faux-harmony of the late-capitalist entertainment culture. We wanted to let the hammering and the drilling, the sheer coldness of this place be our liberation. To escape repression one must grow conscious of it at the most basic level: At the level of sensuality. I tore of Susans skirt, her hairs standing up. A naked animal beneath her clothes waited for me, lustful fear in her eyes. My desire overwhelmed me. We made love and under the noise of the world being destroyed, we lost our life and found freedom.

Why are lit memes so funny? I'm literally laughing like a retard every time I see one of these threads

About which we cannot speak, we must pass over in silence.

the destruction of the Self should take place after all selves achieve self-Realization

Internet posts: strange fruits hanging from the popular trees.

CRASH!

"Open your mind and your ass will follow." -
Friedrich Nietzsche, the Gay Science

...blood on the memes

Stealing this for my book. Thanks breh

It's a dog eat dog world Ray, and I'm a fucking china-man.

>Acknowledging that you wear a mask does not remove the mask
Damn..Holy..Iwant more

...

damn...

They say dogs are for life, not just for Christmas, but what if you've run out of turkey?

Are you looking at yourself, or just the mirror?

other than that? you ain't safe.

I know it's you, Sam.

I know you are, but what are you not?

They say the road to Hell is paved with good intentions, but I prefer to take the train.

I'm not a novelist. I'm a novel list.

It's not a lie if you believe it.

TAMAAALEEE

Half the facts in this book are made up. The other half is statistics.

the scariest uniforms are those we don't wear

...

If bullying makes you stronger then school shootings make us strongest.

To be depressed is to be a fool who can't find joy.

Nihilism is meaningless.

If your foot hurts, punch a wall.

Well, at once a stupid example, and a great distillation of the substance and sonority of a deep sounding phrase

10/10 didlaugh

Shakespeare's words always warm my heart! Thanks for sharing

I finished my cigarrette, glaring at heat and smoke. Cornelius slid down from the balustrades, singing:

"It is not the sun that moves."

>Shakespeare said
did he speak modern English

Carpe diem.

Reading books doesn't make you lit. Posting does.

Shakespeare said: "I...[in Complete Works of Shakespeare]...always [ibid]...feel [ibid]...happy [ibid],...You [ibid]...know (ibid)...why?" [ibid]

This

True happiness doesn't come from the good parts of life

The old slav smirked, "I don't know why we're here" he sniffed, "but I'm pretty sure," snorting, "it's not to 'enjoy' ourselves".

would continue reading

I wonder who that unknown slavic man is

Haha the boys at Veeky Forums will love my green frogs - said the man that wanted to die.

Slavoj?

I motioned to him in the azimuth of hands and wigwams of indian smokesilk. Speaking with dried cum in my hands, I waved, "Cornelius! Don't you know, I looked to those stars today, and it's bizarre. Same angle. Isn't that bizarre?"

Cornelius slid past, smiling ironically. "But what isn't?" he rang and slid then repeated, to let his songs fade dim down the hallway. "What isn't?"

This was all very true, I assumed, wondering if aliens touch themselves.

>tfw you have slavoj's constantly sleepdeprived black eyes

If coincidences didn't happen, there wouldn't be a word for them.

My brothers keeper? pshh, not even for 30 silver coins

Hahahahaha

p good

You have two options. The first is to the die. The second is to die painfully.

Life is like a video game: its creator makes way too much money.

Sometimes there are days that feel like taking a shit, and then there are also bad days.

What is the authenticity of a hyphenated existence if it is nothing but a translation supported and validated under the false pretenses of capitalism?

This is an actual post I saw on fb

Life is like an orange slice, you peel it and you get the zestiness.

"Life is shit and we are in it."

t.pooinloo

this thread actually reminded me of this
>>>journal.sjdm.org/15/15923a/jdm15923a.pdf

Shit that's brilliant.

Rare pepes swinging in the southern breeze.

[incomparable noises]

It is the idea *sniff* that we cannot quite understand pleasure *snort* without knowing first why pleasure only exists in our ideology in the lacanian sense and so on and so on.

This is like the onion of philosophical journal entries.

I wrote an essay on bullshit in high school, I'm glad there are others studying it.

My father always used to tell me that life was like a box of chocolate, you never knew what you were gonna get. I've been stuffing my face every damn day and the results have always been the same, a processed sweetness heralding your unexpected death, but that's life, isn't it Ray?

Death as an ingénue: flaming, resistant and unflexible, tapered, coming, whittling down towards that rich point inscribed and enclosed dead-center of our personal worldly pentacle.

oh lawd.. i wants sum more..

Dad’s cheap armchair is bright orange nicotine stained. Thick padded arms, a plush comfort that you can really sink into. A stark contrast from the cold hard tile ground on which it sits.

He cries. Not aloud. Inside of him, sobbing, the feedback blaring, the black fuzz of an amp wandering against a dissonant circle of free jazz, an abstract of Masturbatory Alcoholism.

Crash... golden retriever... holy mom... want more, want more, crash, crash, crash... golden want, retriever mom, more crash more

The most expensive things in life... ain't worth nuthin.

I might just fuck on my uber driver. Deep in that shit like a scuba diver.

God is dead.

Seeing her gentle walk, unmeaning stride caused me to blink. Once. Then again, until she passed by and onto the distance. It was only a dalliance, I told myself.

Would that I could, but I couldn't ere I should.