What's the worst thing you've ever written?

What's the worst thing you've ever written?

Elder Scrolls fanfic, ten goddamn years ago. Also the stuff I wrote tonight. (More ES fanfic.)

my earliest diary desu

>so and so was smiling at me and being really nice at school
>I have a really big crush on her
>what can I possibly do about it
>why is shit so fucking confusing?!?!
>I just want a girlfriend

Sounds like the diaries of 99% of the people here (myself included, except I got the girl and found out we had nothing in common)

A poem inspired by a time where I ultimately failed at getting an ex back after it seemed as though I had succeeded. It was composed of either couplets or quatrains, each one employing a new mythogical allusion. Thinking about it makes me glad I never keep anything I write.

This sentence.

let me see what the oldest shit on my phone's notepad is.

>I'm standing in a thrift store library full of bad self help and long irrelevant political autobiographies.

>The remnants of a library and research center in the post apocalypse where everyone is working simply to preserve what is left of the facility. They deal with raiders, write to the remnants of the federal government for grant money, stave off encroaching wildlife and vegetation and storms. It ends in fire as the building burns to the ground.

>Open on woman crying. The man who made her cry, presumably the boyfriend, sits across the table. The short consists of him attempting without words to win back her affection. He does a great many things, eat, crash a wedding ceremony, get portraits drawn/taken, he plays a song associated with their romance. Nothing works, eventually he sits crying in a reversal of the opening shot. The woman takes pity on him and finally forgives him.

>there is a Fair King who is a good ruler, loved by everyone
>has a beautiful wife
>a couple of scenes of peasants doing work in the field
>suddenly, there's news of a rival army approaching
>king helps his men set up various traps around the perimeter of the castle
>battle is fought for months and ends with a decisive victory for the Fair King
>him and his surviving soldiers return home
>the atmosphere is morose and gloomy, people are all silent when they're encountered by the king
>he climbs the tower to the room of his wife
>finds her bony corpse laying on the bed in complete darkness
>after a few minutes, it begins to move, she's actually alive
>after a few days, king is playing cricket outside
>a weird skinny figure comes out of the castle, covered in black veil from head to toe, moving in a very jerky fashion towards the king
That's where I stopped.

MY

DIARY

DESU

There was a challenge on the livejournal of old to write 100 poems in 100 days. I filled two notebooks full of the shit. Serious Rupi Kaur tier cringe. In retrospect it's a shame I burned those books because apparently the market now demands shitty 'poetry' with odd line breaks that lacks rhyme or adherence to meter.

fpbp

No contest. A 150 page self insert fanfiction when I was 15.

probably this:

me and my bitches rollin all nite long
dey bouncin on dick on my schlong
wow gon cum so quick master cummer
i missed her face cum on cat what a bummer
pisscat hiss at
my dick, twat
poopy poo

a fantasy short story that i did for a creative assignment on Romantic fiction way back in year 11, exeeded the 2000 word limit by a good 3000 and was forced to cut it down to the barest of essentials, got 59% for it, resented my teacher for the rest of the year

Re-reading it is a cringe fest, although staying strong that teacher was a fucking dilettante who cared about her own voice too much

basic plot outline went like this
>the setting was an alternate Earth in which some nebulous energy had been used to lift continents above pollution into an idealized "neo-pangea" in which everyone was happy.
>science and religion clashed at some point with the discovery of actual, real magic
>war between technology and spirituality
>dumb science men genetically engineered a virus to kill all of the religious folk
>backfires
>huge plague decimates the population
>half the supercontinent is dropped to the earth because of the disease
>people who catch the disease are plonked on the fallen continent and nailed inside a room
>the story was about this dude that catches the disease and charts his decent into delirium in his diary
>strong atheist overtones throughout

i was writing """poetry""" back then

Poniedziałek znów topi sie w melancholii
Jednak po chwili ustępuję miejsca fizyczności
Pluję krwią z poparzonej spirytusem wątroby
A odbyt krwawi i jest jak hadesowa sadzawka
Zgnije niedługo umre, więc depresja mniej boli
Pierwszy raz od jakiegoś czasu pokuszę się o uśmiech
Niewidoczny, wewnętrzny, mózgu, woli
Zycie spływa ze mnie minuta po godzinie
pod prysznicem w formie kryształowych kropli
_____________________________________
Piękna pani, w białym fartuchu
Twarz bez omyłek, szkła w metalowych oprawach
, świadczą o czasach gdy zdecydowała w wiedzy sie wzrastać,
Ciepły głos, "bardzo pana proszę, dziękuje", lod rozpuszcza
na jeziorze watpliwości, wiec mogę zaczerpnąć powietrza
"Bardzo poproszę pigułkę na wyrzuty sumienia"
Przedstawiam wam damę z mojego marzenia
Zwą ja słodką szczypta samozadowolenia
Widziałem siebie w czerni i bieli
Chodnik przemierzałem na deskorolce
Po czym wylądowałem w zwałach starej gazety
Przytul mnie damo. Przytul mnie proszę
Z każda chwilą w jej ramionach czuje sie słabiej
Powieki sie kleją, jej piękno dech zapiera
Mimo wszystko spokojnie delikatnie sie uśmiechne
Przed czasem swą podróż w jej ramionach skończę

nearly all of my high-school poetry about being cynical and depressed.

wrote it 5-6 years ago.

I'm shivering. Finish it.

as a contract technical writer in a government department i once wrote a manual for a piece of software the purpose of which was basically to evict people from their homes

the writing was pretty good tho if i do say so myself

>tfw no qt skelly wife

>>the setting was an alternate Earth in which some nebulous energy had been used to lift continents above pollution into an idealized "neo-pangea" in which everyone was happy.
>>science and religion clashed at some point with the discovery of actual, real magic
>>war between technology and spirituality
>>half the supercontinent is dropped to the earth because of the disease
it sounds like a mashup of ffiii and ffvi

Two praying mantes were holding the reins of their respective horses, their eyes
scanning the wasteland with grim impatience for any kind of landmark or sign of life.
"I think we should make camp soon." said the mantis with a feathered cap.
"Just another league, we may as well make use of these horses while we have them." Responded the swarthy mantis.
"Why do you say that?" queried Feathercap.
"We will have to eat them soon." said Swarthy.
"Eat them, but why?" asked Feathercap, softly clawing at the mane of his horse.
"Because we will need to eat. Why do you ask so many damned questions?" Swarthy looked again across the desolation, blinded by the glare of the sun.


"What are we doing out in this hell?"
"I've told you, Feathercap. We're travelling through to find my home. My father has
died and left me his fortune."
"Yes, but why am I here, Swarthy?"
"Because I asked you to come with me. It's quite simple."
"No, why did you ask me to come along?"
"Patience, Feathercap. All will become clear soon enough."


The boiling sun roasted them as they turned towards their destination that morning,
nothing visible but this wrathful glowing god blistering their brows.
"I don't know if I can go any further without food, Swarthy. I guess we will have to
take the horses."
"Take them? you mean slaughter them."
Swarthy leapt from his steed and glanced at it a moment, its dull eyes gazing back
into his, listless and without thought. He drew his blade and brought it down on the
beast's neck, killing it instantly. Feathercap's horse noted this event with fear
charged eyes, but dared not to bolt, for hunger and thirst.
"Well, that was easy." Swarthy chuckled, stepping through mud created by the seeping lifeblood. Feathercap, still queasy from a life being taken in his proximity, stuttered a reply.
"I suppose mine is next."


Days later, the mantes flew along in short bursts, covering large tracts, but burning
precious energy rapidly.
"I can't go much further, Swarthy."
"You must, the stars tell me that we are only about 6 leagues away from my home. I am hungry too. The last of the horse meat is rancid and inedible. It will only serve to attract vultures now."
Feathercap grimaced and held back his fear of death.


Halfway through the last leg of their journey, the sun set upon their wings.
"We can't make it like this, Swarthy. We're so close, but the land seems to stretch on forever, we will die soon."
Swarthy, hearing this, smiled to himself.
"I suppose it is time for me to tell you why I invited you to my home with me,
Feathercap. You see, food is so very expensive. You owned two horses already, and were so kind to come along with me, greatly assisting my sojourn. However, I am afraid the time has come for your usefulness to become apparent."
"What are you saying?" Feathercap shuddered, as he saw the blade glinting in the starlight.
"I'm hungry, Feathercap."

Fuck, I just write and analyze what I've done the past couple of days. Sometimes I look back after something eventful happened and write my matured thoughts underneath it. Or I write what I'd like to do in the future.

My reply to this thread.

Whew. This is ordure.

are you me?

CRASH and so on and so forth

When I was like 15 or so, I wrote an epic book trilogy shamelessly stealing from LotR and Final Fantasy, where a biblical apocalypse forced me and my best friend to go on a journey to save the world. We met some cute chicks and fought the armies of darkness and evil lords, discovered Atlantis, and so on. In the end, the apocalypse was stopped by me letting this chick I had a crush on in high school impale me with a sword, after I became the embodiment of Chaos.

A few years later, I found the files again and checked if it was as funny as I remembered. But unfortunately, it was completely unreadable, with the senseless dialogue formatted like screenplays and the descriptive parts lacking any direction or coherence. So I deleted the whole saga in a fit of embarrassment and rage.

I once wrote a poem about a girl. Sometimes I start fantasising about her and masturbating but then the cringy poem pops into my mind and kills the mood.

was actually FFVII, Bioshock Infinite and A Journal of the Plague Year