Post random shit you wrote and we'll judge it

Doesn't have to be your best piece, just some fun little thing you wrote today

Kraig: Our culture is spat upon, mutilated, and left dying in a ditch to be replaced by the brutish ramblings of thugs and the sentiments of eunuchs. There is no more pious religion, no more fine art, no more folk-lore and folk-wisdom, no more community or solidarity, no shared vision of life, no respect for grandfathers or ancient ancestors; just the tedium of school examinations, the dumbing-down of the screen, and alcohol. The family is exploded; marriage and funeral are performed in old Christian rites that few believe in because we wouldn't know how to handle these ceremonies with any dignity ourselves.
Dean: Sorry to here about your loss... It took a really fucked up series of events for me to cut the cord from that life. In hindsight I was slowly but surely (yet intentionally) tearing myself apart just to be able to live with myself. Cliche and ironic at the same time right? But you don't just wake up one day and see what you've become and how to fix it. You see who you were, who you're not ever going to be and just want to shut that thought out anyway possible. Further and further down the rabbit hole and you just don't care anymore. You end up like the protagonist before the dream.
Kraig: In the end, what is left - a paroxysm of bitter hated, and a pathetic death? (Like a dog!) There is no hope for such a republic.

i liiiiiiiiiiike, very well written. Is this a play or something?

Sinking just below my mountain
Rising in the absence of light
Watching over a shadowed fountain
luminously from the mistress night
A silver disk hovers high
You pretty sight don't say goodbye

The wealth of those societies in which the capitalist mode of production prevails, presents itself as “an immense accumulation of commodities,”1 its unit being a single commodity. Our investigation must therefore begin with the analysis of a commodity. A commodity is, in the first place, an object outside us, a thing that by its properties satisfies human wants of some sort or another. The nature of such wants, whether, for instance, they spring from the stomach or from fancy, makes no difference. 2 Neither are we here concerned to know
how the object satisfies these wants, whether directly as means of subsistence, or indirectly as means of production. Every useful thing, as iron, paper, &c., may be looked at from the two points of view of quality
and quantity. It is an assemblage of many properties, and may therefore be of use in various ways. To discover the various uses of things is the work of history.3 So also is the establishment of socially-recognized standards of measure for the quantities of these useful objects. The diversity of these measures has its origin partly in the diverse nature of the objects to be measured, partly
in convention. The utility of a thing

Wow, that's incredible. I've never read anything quite like that before. It's an absolutely gargantuan mess of a paragraph, all to say... Absolutely nothing.

perforth prerequisit entercommodiously engaging therewithin the pretense of coexistential enterprises reminds one of limited irregular herbal remedial litigations cohabitating perforth amongst native delocalized establishmentary structural symapthies, sanctimonious architectural impositions waylaid peripheral in due course of seafaring microhydrolic aggregates without the notion of considering inopportune subatomic resonance configurations insofar as a zero-state equilibrium was maintained as a metaphorical integrity corresponding to decaying out-of-place-artifactually insignificant prototypical liminal substrates as they axiomatically deign or design obtusely the undermining of slippery upward concoctions, metereologically grafted organcally unfolding cardiovascular omnidirectional cerebral vegetal states looming mirage ominous alter-capable disillusional usualities measured within emotional spectra subtle enough to include contextually neutral branch vector formations superceding logical analysis as the preordained provincial luminescent avatar congregation vitalised as fairy molecules congo line nitrus vermillion uncouth genetic superficialities relinquished into total abstract void function gate guarding bubblegum undertable freudian gravitational slip

Probably a shitty picture and a shitty poem.

love was a diamond kept beneath her shoe
in the coal light breath of morning dew i sniffed out a part of your skin which i couldn't tell was green or just raining out the slightest touch which i saw into your eyes like lilac breeze in the winter night we ran into the fog and saw the trucks that would eventually lead to our demise but we didn't know it then we just kept running forward blindsiding ourselves like horses to prevent the sudden occurance of falling trees into our homes that our parents built and now we're stuck in the meadow in between the crevice that seperated the world between soft and trivial

edgy nonsense

nice

what?