Veeky Forumserary merit of Veeky Forums posts

A friend of mine once defined poor as being cold when it's cold outside, and hot when its hot outside. I've always thought this was a good definition. That and not having money to eat.

>go to class
>surrounded by these well-dressed nothings 24/7
>can't befriend them because they're all rich vacuous niggers
>develop drinking problem
>try to remember why you love scholarship through a nonstop 10-year winter of being surrounded by overfed white noise
>possibly behead classmates

Knowing that i have to die, i often wish that it could be by lion or tiger. That would be the greatest of deaths imo.

not high art or anything but it's a nice little comedy of errors.

Franzen is the Jeb Bush of literature
Sad, dejected, has to pretend to take himself seriously to make up for the fact that nobody else does. He's the would-be bastion of new sincerely, which is to say he isn't because his books don't hold up under any kind of sincere scrutiny. I think Oprah putting him on her list really ruined him. It turned him from a mediocre high-brow author to a quality middle-brow author. And that shot him straight out of the canon, so to speak. Now he has to pretend he's as good as the middle-aged housewives who read him say he is. Poor guy.

The world changed, and with the world our minds changed as well.

In the time of Shakespeare, your natural life was for the most part basked in a natural stillness of noise and events. Man had not yet encountered the industrial revolution. Of course life was rough and brutal for most, but there were no cars, no humming of electricity, no production fumes, no screens.

Humanity has been used to mother earth's embrace for all of it's lifespan, we all are descendants of hunter-gatherers who used art as a way of expressing their relationship with it with cave drawings and idols.

Think of how close we are born to the introduction of all these invasive life concepts compared to the lifespan of the human race.

Humanity has been disillusioned. Nothing is "sacred" anymore because we created a world where nothing truly is special, people no longer have to think for themselves.

I'm majoring in english and philosophy. I have good grades but no plans. I have a middling middlebrow IQ coupled with delusions of grandeur that I cannot work out into a feasible life plan. I have no skills. I have vague passions but no expertise in them, and nothing new or interesting to say about them. I want to be creative because I have been taught to want a "creative" lifestyle, not because I am creative. The relatively happy suburban lifestyle of my parents is simultaneously too banal for my mental delusions, and too out of reach for me given my lack of ability in anything. I am shitposting on Veeky Forums in an attempt to expunge my inner failures and reach catharsis, though the fact that I am now conscious of this ruins any pain-relieving effect my posting could have. My middlebrow IQ also deludes me into thinking this kind of exploratory self-consciousness is valuable. I am dead.

>There's also a chance I'll fuck off and teach in Asia or something
Just keep in mind that many sheltered expats lost their minds in SE Asia, so it's best to keep a distance and not fall for the same stuff (cheap booze, drugs, prostitutes, general street-level degeneracy present in all of the third-world).

Teenage love in a nutshell:

>teaching some 15 year old girl how to suck dick without teething your cock
>premature ejaculation, even with a condom on
>"VIRGIN PUSSY IS THE BEST, SO TIGHT" lolno, shit's bloody and her being in pain ruins the mood
>thinking you love some girl that doesn't even know who she is yet
>taking a dumb high school relationship too seriously when you could be bonding with your friends or playing a sport
>quietly having sex in your room while your entire family is downstairs
>asking your parents for a ride to the mall so you can finger some slut in the Panda Express bathroom
>having to deal with some slut's constant hormonal moon swings when you'd rather be playing video games

That's teenage love. It fucking sucked. I wish I could take most of it back and spend time lifting and programming instead. I completely wasted my teenage years and seeing Veeky Forums, /pol/, and /r9k/ bitch about never experiencing it somehow bothers me.

The only good thing I took out of teenage love was learning how to eat/finger bang pussy, which I hate doing despite being good at.

It doesn't get better with time. I was always alone in college, speaking solely to a couple of classmates—painfully and as little as possible—and a very restricted circle of “friends” I had since I was in playground. Eventually I made my way through the oral classes, the rare parties I was invited to and my thesis.

Then I went back to a null social life. No contact, no parties, no meeting, no network—due to strong political opinions I was purposely avoiding Facebook and all the other websites—while spending each day reading, walking alone, sleeping and angrily thinking about what I could and should be.

Finally, the job. Long story short, I mail-bombed financial companies in the nearest city and eventually got an offer to work for a fund administrator. I thought this could be the unexpected, last chance I had to live a normal, fulfilling life. So I did. However, it never ceases to be exhausting, painful and almost unbearable. I'm in an excellent team, in which I'm considered one of the funniest and warmest guy and yet… Each minute I carefully think about what I should say, what would happen if I tell the wrong thing, how to walk correctly, how to react, how to behave. Each day is concurrently a nightmare and a great experience. I sometimes wonder if the others act this way, whether I belong to the cursed race of those who are condemned to feel fear and only fear, or if I simply didn't get the tacit agreement everybody must lie to save up the decorum.

Anyway. Man up, you'll never experience something happier.

John Green's sthick is he was a massive loser in high school so now he's 40 and desperately seeks the approval of high schoolers who incidentally are the only people dumb enough to stomach his self-congratulatory pretentious crap.

I'm 53 years old next Fall and the internet since the millennium has really changed not only literature but society itself in a way I imagine it would be hard for most people here to appreciate. Even in 1999 the way of life seemed so less stressful and "pressured" as it is now. but in book terms back then I could name at least a dozen novels published any given year which had a marked effect on the culture and whose authors became household names. Now that has dissapeared, for better or worse. I see far more books being published but far fewer ones of any note. The world of technology, especially start-up culture and consumer-tech really has allowed a world wherein each individual exists as a solitary monad whose greatest virtue is the ability to consume in a way that is superior to his or her peers. Political ideology was fading in the 90s, when capitalism began to be viewed (and mocked quite a lot in the literature of the time) as the sole economic vehicle for successful societies. But even then life itself seemed fun! People still talked and got to know each other in real life! Maybe I'm just older now but so many people seem so isolated and so stubborn in their isolation. My nieces and nephews are all single and on some form of medication for mental health issues. I'm not sure if it's the economy, or culture, or whatever but there is a hostility in every day life now, not only towards other people but towards one's own desire to appear happy or carefree or uncomposed. As for contemporary literature, I have read tao lin's "eeeee eee eeee" and "taipei" and while the former repulsed me and is in my opinion evidence of a fame-hungry narcissist attempting to gain publication as young as he could for the sake of establishing an image, the latter was (despite its flaws!) quite a sad statement on the almost inevitably lonely nature of modern life. I just don't see where literature can go in terms of novelty. Besides MFA student writers churning out the same sort of thing I don't see much that is of interest, and no real demand for more authors or more books. I still remember buddies in college saying rather casually that they were planning on spending their 20s writing a novel and many lived fairly comfortable lives, getting their shorter stuff published and one or two publishing a couple of novels. They worked part-time but still managed to have a healthy social life, live in quite nice apartments or homes, and life a pretty nice life despite not pursuing a "career". But now I just don't see how that's a viable option. To be obscure in 2016 to me seems like a sort of death. If my nieces and nephews didn't have facebook or anything like that I doubt they'd have any friends at all. And once you sign up to these things I can only imagine the pressure on a person to live the sort of life worthy of placing on display to his or her peers. Market competition really does seem to have influences social competition in a way that is pretty sad.

stop bein a bitch nigga bitch nigga
slam that shit
i did 700mg my first time and i was probably a fuck of a lot younger than you
i weighed 120 and did 3rd plat first time stop being a faggot you'll be disappointed when your first experience is shit because you never get that magic back
So do a lot trust me
ill never live again like the moment tweakin high and sippin when i realized that there was an Acacia tree in front of me and that doesn't normally happen
You'll hate yourself forever because now I can't have that magic
I can't even talk right
can't speak in public, I have panic attacks walking in public,
My only 'friends' come to buy weed and bars
Only two weeks clean, but 6 months ago it was 5 years
still addicted to vyv
still hate people
don't lose that magic
Save it while you can and don't go looking for it again
Seriously, you can't find it again,

man im not tryna cry
gonna go get some more dope

Just
Don't chase it

I used to be so alive, hated everything , actually did things , fought against people and fought people and bought my own food and
I can't finish a thought or a sentance
I can't go 2 waking hours without smoking and its not even fun
But being sober is worse and I can't even leave the house or everybody talks about me worse than meff and I I dont know why, I don't even fuck with anything g hbut meth and weed anymore , haven't touched dex in a minte but I have to bgo back to check and see what this sentence was about every 30 seconds and I just want to hate things and feel like I affect somebodies life at all
Dont
Don't do after that magic
It doesn't get you anything
But me
Do you want to be me
Fuck off go
Do sports or
Soemtjjng

I want to sniff a couole bars one of thse days
Not a couple, 8 or 19 all in one bump with a milkshake straw and ill put the last of my lucy and e on my tongue and wash it out with dxm and the most expensive litre of burbon qfc has at a goddamn 3 in the morning g'

Honestly before I decided to take an elective creating writing class in my second year of college I was just your average 5'8 nerdy guy with just about enough self-awareness to feign a sense of mystery to the (very) few females who occasionally looked my way. I was a passive nobody, a nihilist who saw so little value in life that I hadn't even bothered to grasp the definition of nihilism and just used the word to justify waking at 3pm and lying in bed posting on Veeky Forums and eating dark chocolate biscuits. I dressed in the same clothes my mother had bought me before I entered my senior year at Bishop Kelly High School in Boise, Indiana. Here I was on a campus surrounded by young people whose will to succeed in life (if only in the sexual sphere) totally overwhelmed my own wan, tame approach to life. When I finally submitted my interest in taking a creative writing class I was the kind of sad, sorry kid you see standing with his arms crossed with the hunched posture of an animal who feels he exists to be nothing but potential prey to those around him. Well imagine my surprise when I turned up late to my first writing class after staying up to post about the Zimmerman / Martin court case until 6am, dressed in black and grey and dark brown with the usual sullen, impassionate expression on my pale face. Within minutes of sitting down I realized that this is where I truly belonged. My G-d! This was home! This was what I'd been searching for! Every class I turned in a new story, and in every class I could sense the anticipation in my peers' eyes as someone came to the conclusion of their own story only to give way to my own new piece of writing. The faculty was stunned! Never before had they come across someone like me (a semitic-seeming lady who appeared to have no salaried role at the college but appeared apparently from nowhere to make rye remarks about those who attended it) often referred to me aloud (in the presence of my peers, the shame!) as "that boy genius" and "our blooming author". By the end of the course (a mere semester!) I had become a 6'2 beast roaming the intellectual plains. I wore heavy plaid and baggy jeans and hesitated and winced before replying to some question a cute undergrad holding her textbooks across her chest and looking up at me with wide eyes and pressed lips as her girlfriends talked and poked each other nearby. I was envied and respected in equal part, and with each new grant, each new scholarship offered to me, I was fast approaching that moment when a highly intelligent boy becomes a man of the world, an established member of the intellectual elite. The world was mine at last! It yielded to my will at the gentlest of touches! Professors nearing retirement, seeing me striding towards them along the narrow staff corridors, frequently patted their pockets and stepped back into their offices muttering something in an attempt to make me think they weren't just retreating from an inevitable intellectual defeat.

He didn't seem to like me. Other people were content to turn up to class and listen to him discuss his own writing or his view of some random book he'd just read and when I'd ask him a question or offer a different perspective there'd be an awkward silence and people I guess thought I was being a nuisance for the sake of it. I mean I wasn't I was just bored listening to this guy kill time (and money) by spieling about something everybody else was too bored to register or complain about. In my story I referenced him as a (paraphrased) "depressed-seeming creative writing professor from Minnesota who had published two collections of short stories, both to marginal if any acclaim and in print only due to his tenured college allowing him to include them in his syllabus" It was supposed to be funny and I figured he'd just slap his knee and laugh but he just glared at me. I think he had es ee ex with one of the girls in my class who had bulimia and obviously had a history of self-harm.

Maybe I'm autistic, I don't know. The qt ended up dating a long-haired guy from New York who conducted himself like a bohemian. His main influence was DFW and when he read his story out he'd bounce his knee under the desk and wave one arm around as if it was a poetry slam or some shit, reading fast and then reading slow for dramatic effect. I thought he was total phony (he admitted to only reading "a third" of IJ) but he was the sort of star writer in our class. I got so mad when I saw them on campus together on the lawn drinking wine out of plastic cups that I stole all the DFW books I could find (I later realized some of his books were in the non-fiction area , including Oblivion) and put them in a large recycling trash can where people put their superfluous printed pages etc.

i want to believe

Women are cruel in a way you can't possibly appreciate until you see it from the inside. Lack of worth in a suitor translates to complete "badness." They feel the same license to exploit, abuse, humiliate, etc. a person if they're not an Impressive Male Specimen that the average man feels about triple-convicted child rapists or whatever. There's almost a weird hatred there for failed, weak men. Even among the nicest, most reflective ones, there is always this tinge of enjoying shitting directly down a beta male's throat. Especially when that beta male is cluelessly supplicating, doesn't realize his own unworthiness, etc.

There's some quote like "young men delight in thinking that women are angels, and are dismayed when they learn that it's not always so." If there's any incommunicable instinct that I wish I could beam directly into the minds of all dudes, one of those things you can only learn by getting your battle scars from it first-hand, it's just how petty and mean women really are. It's so hard to describe the juxtaposition of what your dick wants you to think they are, and what they really are.

Just remember, women have no sense of their romantic or even their sexual power over you. They benefit from it, they're immersed in it, but they don't embody it gracefully or graciously. The chivalrous worship that some part of your brain wants to give to them isn't reciprocated on any instinctive level by them, there is no yin / yang harmony waiting to happen there. They are basically short, weak, listlessly hedonistic men, boring and petty and selfish by default, who have been born with a silver spoon between their legs. They will not be nice to you if you kneel and offer your heart to them. That cooing "awww" moment where they realize the depth of your love is more substantial than some alpha male's Lamborghini only exists in movies. Women exist to take the hearts of supplicants and sell them on the black market to pay for the alpha's Lambo lease. Especially be wary if you meet one or end up dating one and find yourself thinking "this one's DIFFERENT."

Those ones are the ones that take the other organs too. Always close yourself off a bit with women. The transcendent friendship your culture tells you you'll find with them is a misguided delusion of degraded Platonic love. They don't understand it and they never will.

>>the erosion of pair-bonding
>>all these other posts
You'd think it was the task of the youth to question the ideas of their parents, not to copy-paste them

Poetry is as difficult as it is rewarding, you must be prepared to spend time with it, to take it seriously, to simmer in the words, to read poetry regularly and start building a sense of it (not by reading criticism, just by reading poems)

you won't regret it. I don't have the skills as a writer necessary to communicate the divergence I perceive between this drivel and serious poetry. Good poetry stops you dead in your tracks. It doesn't coddle you with political or philosophical perspectives you already have. It awes you with extraordinary wisdom about being alive, and shows you artistic perfection you did not know existed.

Is this how you justify you're depression? By pretending its a inherent part of some other positive quality in yourself?

Stay in that cycle loser, maybe you'll kill yourself one day.

I keep a pee jar on me at all times. A wide mouthed mason jar, don't want to use one a soda bottle or something.

00s sucked. People here are probably too young to remember it, but 9/11 and Iraq changed fucking everything in a very bad way.

I still remember on 9/11 going to school and watching an arab kid get the shit kicked out of him for being a terrorist and we didn't even live in the US, in fact, most people here hate Americans, but shit just got kind of dark after 9/11. There was stupid amount of pro-US propaganda all over the place as well, you had songs with American flags and shit and everything was grimdark and about "The day america dieeeeeed", if you dare criticize the US in this period, say goodbye to your career, there was a pop band called the Dixie Chicks, one of the biggest bands in the world, destroyed their careers overnight by shitting on Bush.

00s were cynical as shit.

Better Otaku culture though, might be nostalgia, but whatever.

This is literally me.

Don't forget the Prodigy. They are one of my 90's touchstone outfits. Out of Space is basically the 90's incarnate, as is Voodoo People. All that great rave music

>tfw you'll never again listen to Future Sound of London or the Shamen while driving on the A66 to Middlesbrough in a C reg Ford Fiesta in a shellsuit top and stonewash jeans and Reeboks

80s was a sort of terrible misplaced super exaggerated futurism brought on by the development of the microprocessor and the world getting the first taste of digital. Technology development for the first time really skyrocketed at lightspeed and people honestly thought we would be in full VR by the turn of the century (explored in many films of the era as well)

80s was also Capitalist golden era as well and everything was commercialized too death. Even the music of the 80s was commercial as fuck.

By the end of the 80s a lot of people pissed off from the spiraling out of control neo-liberal capitalism and just the shitty state of things started doing lots of drugs and started listening to drum machines and synthesizers in warehouses in illegal parties, they rejected a lot of the fashion of the 80s and started a new trend of oversized clothing with "radicoool" design, this is the start of Rave culture in the 1989 Summer of Love which also led into the rise of Acid Alt Rock like The Stone Roses which in turn led to the rise of Britpop and in the US you get the rise of MTV along with Grunge.

90s as a whole is really defined by the idea of "radical" and "counterculture" you can see this in the design of everything the 90s from branding too fashion.

I wrote all of these. I can't remember when I posted them however and I don't see them on warosu. Is there another archive someplace?

This is fucking retarded. I'm not a big fan but your ignorance is being terribly unfair. Your "review" is basically "it's accessible and highschoolers read it and girls that will never sleep with me read it so I hate it".

you're a faggot

yes, sexual identities are awful

i don't romanticise the times before as more permissive (it was different in different times and places, not a paradise... but also not the universal bigotry progressive narratives suggest)...

but the US/globalist LGBT identities are so abstracted from community/nation/society as to be these hollow and narcissistic things... they don't seem to serve any explicit purpose to the benefit of 'everyone'... they're expressions of the selfishness everywhere else in our civilisation

being part of them divides you from everyone and everything else, except others "like you" and distant powers like governments and the media and businesses - which all use identities very cynically for their own ends (but also throw bones and benefits)

i wish it would all go away... the more i think about it, the more it all seems like a big trap... some really perfect propaganda mapping directly onto personal feelings, and supposedly revealing the truth of who and what you are

There is a part of me that literally cannot accept that I will never eat her exact ass

kek
this is Veeky Forums summed up

you're friends an idiot... don't eat money...

The sexual free market is hardly all bad, as Franzen notes. And no one is wishing, in these novels, for fewer choices and irreversible marriage contracts. Yet the authors keep returning us to a certain kind of scene—the scene of romantic rejection—and a certain kind of feeling: the embarrassment of having been examined and found wanting. This is the heroes’ signal experience of sexually liberated adult life

it was an absurd question to begin with. truth is all there is. in his silence the Christ taught by example. he urged pontius to shut the fuck up and bear witness to the sublime veracity of that very moment. what is truth? truth is the reason you inhale through your nostrils absorb oxygen through expanding cilia, exhale carbon dioxide and breathe into the greenery of the world as it breathes into you. truth is the universe and the inherent reason in it. sublime divine boundlessly fractal truth is the default setting. it is only when we are inattentive, warped in our perceptions, full of ourselves do we lose sight of the mystery that engenders our very existence

are you actually 53 or was that also just a persona you adopted because i'm embarrassed to say but that one piece kind of resonated with me and i'd be sorry to find out that it was all fake although i suppose it doesn't really matter

At its core, The End of the Tour is an attempt to understand the Wallace laid bare in the Charlie Rose interview — the one who armored his private torments with verbal dexterity.

this is funny. i actually do wish that.

I was in a "closed psychiatry" once (the kind where you're not allowed to go out; don't ask), and there was a somewhat cute ~14 year-old girl who, when I arrived, was sleeping on the floor in the hallway; something the children who didn't behave had to do if I remember correctly. A book by Nietzsche was lying aside her.

One could romanticize that situation to hell and back but, although I never really got to know her properly, especially since she was under some heavy psychosis and moved and talked like a zombie, I'm guessing that she was probably just an incredibly edgy brat or something. She had gotten there after heavy drug abuse, I heard, and even in her zombie state she was dissing people and shit for no reason.

how's it feel to orbit some chick for 2 years while she will throw herself at the first sight of chad?

stop giving her so much fucking attention, take a hold of yourself, why do you care about every little detail of her life?
Take a step back and cut her off for a while, she is taking you for granted

It's just sad that because 90% of the people that would go to these shitty events are feminists they need to go through all this virtue signalling of laughing at everything hysterically so that they can obtain maximum brownie points.

>romanticizing the book reading experience
>idealizing the physical book
>[insert le or le-like memae] literary lifestyle
>appealing to traditionalist sensibilities as the legislator of objective virtue on aesthetic preference

Conservatives of sentimentalism are the only true unchanging legion, maintaining status quo is their progressive sacrosanct constitution.

A poem-tribute to our mindhadists (see jihadists).

"Ember this December and dismember last November and remember the shlomo lender."

Pic related: hi5ing big dirt

I have a tripcode in case you didn't notice, silly anonydumbs.

Somewhat accurate but a bit too cynical. I still like it.

I'm not 53, I just enjoy pretending to be different people on Veeky Forums. I just found that thread:

yuki.la/lit/7699623

And there's a lot more stuff I posted on there but forgot about. Didn't realize yukia worked for Veeky Forums. I thought that was all lost when archive.moe died.

it's hard and basically amounts to saying "if you're special, keep being special and you can be special," but if it's any consolation 99.999% of the awful hipster trust fund kids at fancy universities are just as braindead as the lower class people at lower level universities, they just wear nicer clothes and have better training in radiating "I AM FROM THE WEALTHY CLASS" in all directions

for poor people, university is either a temporary delay on admitting they have to work 9-5 forever, or it's job training for working 9-5 forever. for rich people it's basically just a finishing school. it's pretty amazing how you can hand the tools of enlightenment/self-enlightenment to rich kids with infinite leisure to make use of them, and all they manage to do for 4 straight years is bourgeois masturbation and ideological jargon training.

Way back when I was a teenager there were these 3 little brats who went to art school who mommy and daddy paid for to live in a loft, they used to invite all us punk rockers over and let homeless people steal their mommys food for street cred. This bitch was the middle one and she was the spoiled rotten teen princess brat. They played in a shitty band that was pretty much unlistenable noise and people only gave them shows because they knew all the cool kids and gave a lot of blowies. I used to go over to this sluts moms house (i think she called herself Sadie or Maggie or some shit) during lunch hour at rosedale, and theyd all be drunk and shit at like noon. I shit you not this was like a 6 million dollar house in Rosedale. They literally would suck anyones dick if they thought they were cool and punk rock, my friend fingered this girl Alice Glass at spadina subway station and named his band after their underage little slut drummer. I only banged their ugly ass bass player, I actually tried with the underage chick and got my ass kicked at her loft, I mighta made out with Alice when I was black out drunk but I kinda doubt it so I am not going to say so. Anyways she blew up and completely bailed on her friends, never had any talent whatsoever. Kind of cool that she can make a living on doing drugs and sucking dick but it's wierd that she is considered an "artist". Autotune FTW.
Anyways thats my shitty story about a shitty band from a shifty city. Eat shit

There was a guy on /r9k/ that posted a lot of stuff like this.

I don't expect any consistency in ideas or policy from individuals like English, Joyce, who formed their world views in the 1970s and haven't the imagination to adapt their dogma.

are you also the norwegian/oxford/manifesto guy

i enjoy your work for what it's worth

A spook can simply be defined as 'merely an idea/thought'. The entire world of thought is filled with spooks. What matters is if you recognise them for what they are or if you become subservient to them as if they are something more than they are.

For example, a person who does something "for the sake of virtue" is thoroughly spellbound.

Is he the same nigga who posted that on /mu/ for like 3 years every day?

It doesn't matter senpai. (i'm not him).

You're all just coffeehouse agitators, go do something of value.

Yes / Yes / Yes, among others.

Thank you.

I wasn't talking about mimicking the popular kids (and in any decent place the popular kids are merely normal kids who are slightly more attractive and more outspoken) but about finding that niche of people you like to see and talk with on a daily basis even if you don't always agree with them. If you are in a university and not a highschool, that niche does exist, with probability very much near 1. I have met math majors who had published short story collections or poetry, other who had been scout troupe masters and jazz musicians, various who had taught teenagers in highschool, at least two who had published with a reknowned scholar by their third year of undergrad. None of them are exceptional talent, they are slightly above average intelligence normalfags pursuing their interests

Try dealing with a few basic facts, OP:
1. A polite student, like a polite teacher, never belittles anyone publicly. We have to strive to be collegial at all times. It doesn't matter how wrong someone is, you can obey basic social etiquette and speak to them privately. She wasn't spewing antisemitic slogans or spanking students, she was discussing philosophy.

2. Most teachers have to know a hell of a lot of material, and often have limited power over their syllabus. She may have a shallow knowledge of Wittgenstein, but she almost certainly makes up for that in several other areas. Your own knowledge is just as spotty, depending on who's evaluating it. There's a lot more to being a decent teacher than having slogged through the Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus.

3. None of this shit matters. I cannot emphasize that enough. German philosophy, and the details of the neurotic mental masturbation of pompous asses like Wittgenstein and the Vienna Circle are so far beyond irrelevant I don't have a word for it. You think that crap is a valid excuse for being rude and condescending to other people? Grow up.

Wait you're 53 and use the terms "qt" and "autistic"? Not having a go at you, just kinda doubt it.

...

I'm not 53, I just LARP a lot on Veeky Forums. Started shitposting seriously here in 2013 and have since dedicated myself to the form as best as I'm able. At one point I tried using various computers / IPs to start every thread active in the catalog but I was banned before I reached 10 or so.

...

That's all for now.

Why do you do that? Do you have other things in your life, or is this pretty much it?

I mean, I'm not complaining. It's entertaining, at least.

I feel like we'd get along because I'm gassposter, uliposter, dfwposter, corncobs mccarthy poster, and i post works by famous poets in the critique threads.

...

This would be cool but only if it was well-produced and aesthetic and if Veeky Forums and related boards shilled it hard so normies caught on. That guy who attends Brooklyn College was pretty succesful last year when he posted his own poems which he'd uploaded to PDF with nice font and design.

You fuckers gotta stop with the gaslighting but i kinda wish Veeky Forums was like this.

this is a great post. Laughed out loud. Honestly, if you have enough of these to fill up a book, I'd compile them and find someone to publish it, despite the legal risk. I'm enjoying these.

I've only got maybe 3 or 4 poems floating around somewhere. It's only an idea I thought of a few months ago, so I'll give it another year and see what I have. The poems, are, I think, legitimately good and could be in a lit rag.

This sounds like anyone I've ever spoken to. From young to old.

>legal risk

From whom? The posters or "Veeky Forums"? How would the original posters be able to press charges? Considering how Veeky Forums is anonymous and it would be hard to prove that you were said poster.

If you ever do something like this I'd suggest blending it with great posts in general. From stories to poems to shitposts.

I just appreciate Veeky Forums and try and contribute to the community. I also find it fun and a way of sublimating my anger, fear, and so on.

It's always possible some people have submitted poems from the critique threads to actual journals and been accepted, and that the IP now resides with those journals (depending on what their submission policy is). That's what I meant.

Could be an idea, but I wonder if two collections would be more appealing.

1. anonymous poems

2. collected shitposts and greentexts

What is gaslighting?

new skills can be acquired by...learning.

>Gaslighting or gas-lighting is a form of manipulation through persistent denial, misdirection, contradiction, and lying in an attempt to destabilize and delegitimize a target. Its intent is to sow seeds of doubt in the targets, hoping to make them question their own memory, perception, and sanity.

>1. anonymous poems

There's been a few tumblr released book of random poetry. It's pretty cringy.

Are you a NEET? Also, how old are you?

I'm not NEET, unfortunately.

Nice, thanks user

Yes I know about those. The ones I have are better than that, though.

>be british
>see this everyday

I shall say no more

Can't fool me m8 this is clearly Joyce's work

Excellent.

Oh well

Why do you guys like inordinately huge posteriors so much? I don't understand.

t. homo

The wide, round rump straining against the purple lycra pants of the white woman in front of him in line at the corner shop stirred in D'Quan dim, dreamlike memories of the Serengeti buried in his blood, setting his heart pounding like a jungle drum and his long coal-black pestle nudging the fabric of his basketball shorts.

the only one that matters

This is the same criticism that people made of the Lost Generation in America that expatriated to Paris in the 20s.

This is what Emerson criticized in the mid 1800s in a pithy quote of his.

etc

>spread misinformation
>pose as their political enemies to poison the well
>fantasize about genocide and celebrate mass murderers like Dylann Roof and Anders Breivik
>trying to be good people
kek