Write what's on your mind

...

I texted and snapped Syd, no response. Unless by chance she hasn’t read either messages for some unlikely reason, she doesn’t want to speak to me. She was one something that I had always set vaguely in the future just out of sight, something to move towards. But I never moved and she has. Too late.
If I were to be honest with myself, no matter how quick I could have been it wouldn’t have mattered.

How do write like the Pynchon circus pasta? I would read any book that author published. So full of energy.

The world is my oyster but I don't even like oysters. I had a wet dream for the first time in my life yesterday. I'm enjoying my new job. I'd like to be well-read without putting forth the time and effort that it takes to actually be well-read. Lucy is cute but she has a boyfriend.

I really need to find a job.

What is going to happen when trump is inagurated? Should i sell my conscience and try with everything to get a job at a drilling company or should i stick to a path with my profession? Well, at least i can reas a lot if i get a job at a rig.

Sleep is necessary but boring

I need to break out of this alcoholic Groundhog Day scenario. I'm still learning and improving myself incredibly slowly so it's not a total shitshow but I could be doing so much more than this. Being alone 99% of the time is terrible for my health.

>I really need to find a job.

Yeah, you're tellling me...

Looking over old videos of myself makes me feel very bittersweet.

I am a possum, o fiddle-dee-dee!
What have you left in the trash heap for me?
A melon, a squash? A festering loaf?
Your meal, perchance? Amalgam uncouth?
Skiddle and skaddle, I scamp through the night,
And should you come peeking, I'll run with a fright!
O, don't mind the jostling in what you've thrown out...
I'm the natural janitor: I eat all, not pout!
Your feeble felinian companions I'm like
(Tho without the derision of their Furred Reich).
If you should catch me, your mercy don't lose!
At worst a green gobbledygoo I will ooze,
My meek mawkish grin of snappers I'll bare,
And only will bite if threatened -- so beware!
Know well that always my children I carry,
And snoop through your poop (thereabouts) for a berry.
I hope you will forgive my slovenly taste,
But I'd hate to see such good food go to waste...
Your breadcrumbs, your hambones, your rotten potatoes,
Your onionskins, piecrusts, tin cans, and tomatoes...
On all this and more I graciously feast,
So please, I beseech, respect this poor beast!

Normies are literally proles and proles aren't even human fucking beings. Normies are not even theoretically sentient. It's a qualitative difference. It's not about the extent to which you can read or ramble about theoretical physics. It's a difference in the substance of mental content itself. Normies are baking bread with an oven that has no pilot light or something, there's nothing going on in there, it's unleavened bread stewing in hot air.

Normalfags are literally WORSE AT WALKING than I am. When I'm walking on the sidewalk or going up a flight of stairs, I have unconscious subroutines built into the Merleau-Ponty fucking katalepsis of the walking itself, so it's not just a linear process of "move foot move foot move foot," but has auxiliary components, holistically internal mechanisms like
>Am I proceeding too slowly? Am I taking up space? Is my bag at my side causing me to take up an unfair 70% of a space that should be shared between two people therefore setting the upper limit of space-taking at 50%? Am I blocking this part of the sidewalk? Oh dear, this fellow is likely to pass me, I should predict his movements and accommodate them.
on a primary process level. It's PART OF "walking." It's like breathing.

This is because when I was fucking two years old and my mother took me on a sidewalk, my child brain went
>Ahh yes, yes, I see.. sidewalk.. a common space for walking.. Everyone has places they need to go.. Everyone is a fellow human. Oh yes, I see, theory of mind. I've had a great epiphany here. I feel as if I'm maturing as a small baby. Yes, I see, everyone has an equakl "right" to the same space. We're all in this together. My destination is no more important than that man's destination. There are interesting things to consider here.
and then as I matured this got sedimented down into pure zuhandenheit.

That is the PURPOSE of zuhandenheit. To accommodate sedimentation. You aren't supposed to ORIGINATE IN ZUHANDENHEIT, to begin your fucking conscious existence with surface-only, depthless, merely outwardly imitative PROLE BRAINTHOUGHTS. You're supposed to go "that man is extending his arm.. I see! Man wants apple --> man reaches for apple! I've made a discovery!" You don't just flailingly grope around for apples and go UHHHH DUHHHH DURR IM A PROLE IS THIS HOW TO APPLE?

I literally OPEN DOORS better than normalproles because by "open doors" I implicitly understand a series of effortless movements that take into account that OTHER PEOPLE ALSO USE PUBLIC DOORWAYS.

PROLES ARE COMPLETELY UNCONSCIOUS. They have a dull, shimmering sheen of mass memetic behaviours like "uhhhhhhhhh i am walk on sidewalk?? I MOVE toward location?????? I desire location, must move to location.." and then if you sidle up next to them and try to pass them their ANIMAL fucking consciousness, literally instinctive, literally lacking transcendental apperception, just goes

!!!!!!!!!! I AM WALK
BUT MAN WANT PASS???
WHAT DO

and they have to improvise a clumsy method

Then what do they do? They don't INTEGRATE that method like I did as a fucking BABY

THEY JUST GO BACK TO WALKING

AND THE NEXT PDESRON WHO FUCKING OASSES THEM GETS THE SAME EXPERIENCE

PROLES ALL NEED TO BE EXTERMINATED

I'M TIRED OF THIS NOXIOUS PROLE SPHERE

GET RID OF IT

WHY DO THEY NEED CELL PHONES? You can prove that they can't even WALK properly, but they need $6,000,000 devices to keep in constant contact with the other proles? So they can replace the already inch-thick depth of their psychical processes with a 0.5" thick, maximally efficient, demi-instinctive layer of pre-sentient amoeba-like mechanised retardation, and then use the freed-up 0.5" to forever contemplate what other bad-at-walking automata think about mangled Fisher Price plastic play block versions of real concepts that some actual sentient human being once had in the 1730s?

"Well, you see, I'm quite the libertarian! But I'm also quite verily a lawyer, so I have law thinking thoughts and Libertarianism is an important. I ought to wear a suit, and unconsciously assimilate from other proles that I should be gesticulating suggestively to indicate that there is conscious, considered mental content behind anything I do."

EVery single prole is like an echo of an echo of an echo of ten trillion other proles, I can feel myself encased in a thick, mucousy fucking molasses ocean of densified stultified prole thoughts, it's an endless murky swamp of degraded denuded diluted memes, and any time you try to express thoughts to them like

>Greetings. You appear to be human. Let me tell you: I saw that dog, over there, and I got to thinking about it. What if instead of thinking about dogs in this conventional way, we thought about them in this new way? Does this shed any new light on your view of dogs? I feel like I may have nuanced humanity's encounter with dogs a little bit here, but I don't want to be presumptuous and think that I'm some sort of dog genius, so I need you to give me some honest feedback and try to engage with my thinking and the coming-into-being of my thinking (re dogs) and give it a whirl. Tell me what you think man, don't hold back.

and they just go

>UHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH DOG? DOGS IS DOG? YOU GOTTA DOG? DUDE WHY U SAY 2 MANY WORDS ABOUT DOG.. U KNOW DOG IS DOG? IM WALKIN' HERE!

fvuhldakbjajdsghnlsakfugjaseufgawhoeruhgawelrkgh3q4ogphe rlgkjearhg askgh awsfgulahsw glkasdhg jlkasdhg asjldgh remove proles

My English teacher gave me the greatest complement I've ever received in my life, and now I'm here, feeling stupid and uninformed, and wanting to know where I can start.

I have found a fat Russian model from St. Petersburg who entrances me, and now I keep wondering if there would be any way to get in touch with her.

>the greatest complement I've ever received
what was it?

is pynchon behind the oats meme?

I don't know why but I really fucking hate the Seahawks. I think it's because of Seattle. The Pacific North West is beautiful, but clogged with hipster fucks. One time I was traveling through there and I stole a guys jacket solely because I despised him for residing in that place. I don't think I ever wore it and I don't remember what the jacket even looked like. I wonder how long he looked for it or if he ever thinks about how such a thing could disappear or maybe it was even his favorite jacket gifted by a dead relative. I hope it was. I fucking hate the Seahawks.

From teacher:
>user has one of the most intriguing perspectives on literature that I've seen in my career.

aika pahast särkee kehoa, oispa lääkkeitä

>is together. My destination is no more important than that man's destination. There are interesting things to consider here.
>and then as I matured this got sedimented down into pure zuhandenheit.

are you trolling, or are you retarded?

Bum holes.

I feel
>The biggest lie is that i ever had an opportunity to squander in the first place

Yup

More and more I find myself craving something physical. I don't want any of these gay office jobs, yet here I am, applying to be some lawyer's lackey or to sit in a museum all day. I want to leave behind a legacy of some sort, and I want it to be tangible. My father worked construction. It was grueling work that left him with an injured body, but whenever we made trips into the city there was always at least one building within our line of sight that he could point to and say he worked on. What a glorious feeling it must have been, to see these marvels of engineering and ingenuity and to know that you played a role in their construction.

Ideally I'd like to find something both physically and mentally rigorous. Should have studied archaeology or something.

If I meet God, I would like to thank him. Life is perfect. There is nothing that I would change. Humans are living in such a state of 'grace' it is unbelievable. We are perfect, there is nothing to question. Fuck you. fuck me . fuck them. Humanity=perfection. God=skiball /thread blessem

What WOULD I do with a Clondag bar?

This legitimately made me smile. Thanks user, I needed that.

ate too much candy again

I stumbled out of my office. Not really. I walked normally, like any other day, but I was dead tired and I could feel I looked like a wreck. heck. My neck. these cute girls are walking by and if I scratch it I'll look dirty. people look dirty when they scratch. I can still remember Jill's look across the office by the printer when she saw me scratch my balls. No privacy anywhere in here. Lunch time used to be deserted not a soul not a pair of eyes phone on standby the absence of back-lit dust from open bins full of invoices no voices in call conferences at all. I scratch my neck and look the other way. It feels good so I rub it to take away some imagined pain. A thin drop of rain lands as I look up and the blistering hum of the kitchen white light is palpable, Carlos says good morning and I nod to the tv. It's Trump's conference. He rolls his eyes and goes for coffee and I say what do you think he's gonna talk about? Probably new job opportunities or some shit, he responds as he opens the faucett on the sink. The rain is misty and weak but she's wearing a white shirt with a classical looking high school mascot logo on it. Something you'd see in a Yearbook's retrospective pages, still shiny and always ink scented. Though weak rained she was half soaked and the fabric sharpened her contour. She is blonde, green eyed and shorter than me. She's wearing cut off jean shorts and she has beautiful voluptuous thighs for someone her age, which I imagine to be around 19.

i can't sleep and my brother smoked all my weed

user, you are showing severe symptoms of Autism. please seek help.

I haven't been able to relax because of a fear that everyone thinks im a dumb cunt

my memory is but a shallow ever-growing pond. the light filth mockingly floats on its surface. the weight of substance draws meaning down, down into the mud where nothing else remains.

t. non-native english speaker ;_;

user, please stop using mind-alterng drugs - you only have one life! Doesn't it terrify you that you might be damaging your brain in some subtle way, removing some important thing that was once an integral part of yourself?

Holy... I thought having autism was a joke here but you seem like that you are having some symptoms of one.

>Implying there is any such thing as continuity in a personality
>Implying that even if this is granted generously I would want to keep any of my integral traits

super cute

Being foreigner is enough.
t. Russian

>banal office middle class dribble

Join us neets and truly have things to write about

Pouring the milk onto my cereal, I pondered on my life choices thus far - what lead me to eat cereal at 4:00 am in the morning? Why were my sleeping habits so different to my younger years? Why do I feel so alone and helpless, having been stripped of the confidence of my childhood?

As my mind fell into an abyss, tears streamed out of my eyes, the milk overflowed my bowl and trickled down the table legs. I fell to my knees and damned the world.

I cried.

I cried over spilled milk.

>A melon, a squash? A festering loaf?
>Your meal, perchance? Amalgam uncouth?
not even a half-rhyme dude

well it's either that or alcohol, and at least pot seems easier in the body.

Why read literature? If things go into the canon if they have high artistic merit and impact on society why do some people here say a work has to "have a conversation" with [a work from] the canon? What does that even mean? Is it possible to even finish reading everything? Even finishing the Greeks would take years.

It's simple...depending upon its trajectory...the past is either useful or not. Discard the past if it disagrees with you. Master of your own ship, set whatever course you will.