Write what's on your mind

it's entertainment not work

I'm thinking about how beautiful my girlfriend is and how much I love her.

/pol/ is full of uneducated cunts.

Had a good chuckle, thanks :]

bit gay m8

This summer I'm either going to move to the next level of consciousness, or at least certitude, or I'm going to go fucking insane. I keep picturing that scene from Futurama where Fry finally drinks 100 coffees or whatever and he turns into a shining golden god. Or Vegeta going to the fruity asteroid to cry about how Goku beat his ass. I'm going to the asteroid. I'm going to sit in my room and read all the shit I know is necessary for a breakthrough, until I have the breakthrough.

I'm pretty sick of internet drama and arguing with idiots online. So much of my day is devoted to my brain just dipping in and out of previous and/or imagined arugments with randoms about shit.

Memes have both enhanced my life and use of media but of also fundamentally changed the way I relate to them.

I just wish I was normal. Barring that I just wish I was normal at some point in my life so I would know what I was missing and might have had some chance to avoid this. Barring that I wish I had the motivation to hurry up and finish assignments so I can jerk off and read Dead Souls.

>implying 90% of Veeky Forums doesn't browse /pol/ and pretend they don't
kek

None of these posts have anything to do with literature in any way.

I need to quit drinking and driving. At least so far from my apartment. I'm in some hipster bar in a part of town that has undergone enough gentrification to be presentable (well lit, decent property values, but shit school) and these people are a pin to look at and listen to. I don't know why I keep going to these places, maybe because these bars tend to have attractive waitresses and patrons and I hope to get laid. In any case, I don't learn anything and I still don't get laid. Maybe I'll try Lenny's Gentleman's Club next time.

is this is an exercise for streamcon or is this just blogging bullshit

The progressive left is looking eerily like communism.
>where's muh Red Scare

>implying first-person literature is more than glorified blogging

If you really believe that then GTFO

I hate when people misuse stirner to defend anarcho capitalism

Sometimes I dream about living in Britain.

>implying lit isn't 90% cynical r/books browsers

I always suspected I was being dosed but brushed it off, thinking no one would stoop so low. I was wrong. Now I'm lucky by the skin of my teeth, but I have no fucking remorse, poison me and the gloves are off.

Drunk but what the hell.

My ambition outweighs my discipline, but that's no new story. What man is he that sees a wing and does not dream of flying? Why, man, would he not aspire to the highest planes? I have no great qualities. I bring no new thoughts. I hold in my heart no joys, no sorrows, that a thousand souls before me haven't felt. Among them: they who, with great Will, held such a might over words that I can scarcely fathom joining their divine profession. Still, I look to the sky. Still, I drink their words. Still, I dream.

Thank you, friend.

Go away for awhile. Go away from wherever you are, and take only this man's works with you. They should be all you need to figure out that consciousness doesn't work like that.

There is no normal. There is, however, stupid, and stupid spends a great deal of time trying desperately to be normal.
Improve your discipline. Quit arguing with people online, and do your assignments. That's what discipline is - it frees you from your base impulses and allows you to achieve things beyond the short-term numbing effect that you're so used to.

Here, have a more rare pepe.

Fuck everything. I'm going to shed this skin and live my dreams. Sorry friends and family, I'm not the person you thought I was, the little boy you tried to teach and reign in. I'm 25 out of God knows how long, and that's much too long wasted trying to get something "right".

I'd die tomorrow if I was doing something I loved.

t. Chris mcandless
Just be sure to let your parents know when and where you decide to die, because it would be cruel not to.

parents are a spook

Do you like Saucy Casca

youtube.com/watch?v=mQQh115qAME#t=16m55s

I'm writing about a female serial killer, and I am having trouble thinking about the characteristics that will distract people from understanding she's the common link in the murders.

mother fuckers

I wonder how much drinking is lethal. I know some people manage a litre of vodka a day, I finished a half bottle of whisky and wasn't even drunk but I did have a heavy meal.

...

I have a similar idea, my killer is/was abused by her spouse/parental figure. It becomes very obvious later on in the novel that she is acting out of a sort of base animalistic nature of revenge and rage lashing out at the same type of person she was.

I am a mediocre guy who loves to write,shitty things

my own writing is my favorite writing and it baffles me

I really should be doing more work for school. Also I should read more.

I just wrote a 1500-word paper in 2 hours. It doesn't seem like it sucks, either. Feeling pretty good.

I work during the night because it's cooler and quieter. I'm out of sync with the day dwellers, but I like being the privileged few who own the night.

My pocket computer has a built in location tracker. It was sold as a service. Don't get me wrong, it's useful. But a spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down. I know the government and the corporations are watching my every move. Who I talk to. What I say. Where I've been. They used to call people who thought the government watched our every move paranoid. Now we call them mum and dad. It doesn't faze me that I am being watched. I know they can't do anything without exposing their systems further, or at least the true reason for their systems. The key is to be just inside the extreme. Allow other poor souls to attract the attention by agitating just a little too hard.

I'm finishing up my stint in front of the glowing screens as my fellow night dwellers are finishing theirs in front of flashing lights. People party the night away in the old buildings of the city. It's not talked about openly, but people are taking brain bugs and glitches. I'm not against taking it, but I don't take it myself. Why? They haven't yet invented firewalls and backups for your brain for when things go wrong. I'll leave that trip for my retirement.

I take a quick look at my pocket computer to see if it's time to make my way to the bus stop for my nightly exercise routine. Says it came early; I just missed it. Great, 10 minutes gone. Only 33,112,832 left to go, according to current calculations.

I exercise every other day. I don't do it because I need to stay strong to capture my food or to defend my territory. My exercise takes me nowhere, builds nothing and gives me nothing in return. The only reason I do it is to keep my brain vessel alive. I do it to hopefully see the singularity. Suffice to say not many of my fellow gym goers understand why I am there.

We're on the verge of upgrades. Some people have them already, but they are typically reserved for those who need it most. People who've lost a part. People who's parts are broken. I guess upgrades are going to those who need it most. I've got a 50% chance of surviving the next half century. If I'm lucky enough, the new upgrades should be ready just as most of my natural parts are ready to give in. That should be give me a few more centuries up my sleeve.

I don't know what I'm waiting for.

I'll find out.

Is 220 pages and 114,712 words too much?
I'm only halfway done according to my own measurement.

The short qt who sold me a jacket.

I really should be studying but instead of trying to become the best phycisist I can, I just browse Veeky Forums and a few other sites. I hit refresh over and over again, not doing anything, not even enjoying he content. Just... refreshing...

I put on the same 20 or so videos on youtube. They play on repeat. I visit the same sites. Sometimes I even end up rereading past threads. There are days that due to the guilt of not doing anything, I end up eating half a chocolate bar.

I can't sleep. I go to bed at 00:00, end up sleeping at 03:00, then wake up at 08:00, too tired to really focus.

I'm not a complete waste, as I've managed to score some good points thus far, but I need to change ways, and fast...

Not to mention that I don't really know what to pursue. I don't really have a passion for any specific branch of physics, sans the stuff I read on my comics and books and wish to make a reality, but they're so OTT it's not even worth trying. I don't want to end up a high school teacher...

try ASMR or low key podcasts for sleeping

trick is to find something that can keep your wandering mind interested, but you can also fade in and out of without caring too much

replace physics with chemistry and you got my situation as well.
why not just go with normal white nosie or soft music. Someone talking doesn't seem to good for falling asleep imho.

Finish it, and then cut ruthlessly

music doesn't work for me, i need to feel "not alone" and be able to drop in in the conversation without being obligated to

>feel "not alone"
does this whole attitude or incapability of falling asleep without your noises change when you are in the same bed or at least room with someone when falling asleep?

I made coffee with a coffee maker for the first time in my life: am I an adult now? Anyway, it's dusgusting. Too strong.

Exams are so easy it's ridiculous. I'm probably gonna end up teaching + doing research, but I'm afraid I feel like a failure after that. I wanted to be a filmmaker and I'll end up talking about directors my whole pathetic life. Is there a way I become a teacher + researcher without feeling like I failed? Anyway, is that really what I want to do with my life? What if it isn't? I have an useless degree.

Also I finished reading IJ yesterday and now I feel quite weird. I got the "story" but I wonder if such complexity was necessary.

I tried it, but... I generally feel like I'm ready to feel asleep during the day, and as soon as it goes 23:00 or so, I "wake up". I've tried exercising, I've tried not to sleeping more than an hour at noon, I've tried teas and chais and all that, but... nada.

It's depressing, isn't it? To be studying what you supposedly loved, but have so many books, so little time and too many random subjects, that you feel trapped. The worst thing is, chances are, you won't be the Bohr or the Heisenberg, the Iron Man or the Doctor Doom. You, me, and the majority, would be lucky to be in the sub-team- of the sub-team of the team that will assist in the creation/discovery of something substansial.

Dsic: Universities work differently around here, hence the whole "too many subjects" comment. You don't choose here, you just study what you're told.

That's a great post.

Is that a reference to something? Anyway I enjoy your post even if you sound kind of edgy m8.

Are you interested in physics?

>Are you interested in physics?
Very much. It's just that living outside of the US and receiving a fuck-all education, coupled with the fact that chances of discovering/creating something monumental are rather slim, it makes me feel as if I'm just killing time.

And even if that wasn't a problem, I don't know what to major in. I just... feel kinda lost, and there's really nobody who can help me with that.

TL;DR: Everybody wants to be Reed Richards, but chances are we'll only ever be Paste-Pot-Pete, or at best, the Wizard...

I'm sitting on a lot of money, I just haven't been able to get it yet.

I keep trapping myself within circles. I keep thinking to myself that I'm useless and struggle so much because I'm depressed, but using that as an excuse only makes me hate myself more. I did think it was funny though when my nephew did a shit on the carpet, rolled it up into a nice, meaty, ball and placed it under my mother's bed all because he was too shy to admit he shat himself.

A boom boom bap
bitty boom
bitty boom

who the fuck even has attention span to read a book? I don't even remember when I actually finished a book I started. Books that have similar structure to Beyond Good and Evil are a lot less pain in the ass to read because the chapters are extremely short and condensed. I feel like most authors just want to waste the reader's time.

Tu quoque*

>tfw no qt thicc black gf

Life is suffering

Some days require a doubletap.

every time i get a girl to like me i stop liking her

yeah it is really good desu

we only love what we haven't conquered. PROUST
R
O
U
S
T

Over 1,000 words written today, still got all day ahead of me. Nearly 10,000 words into my 7th book. Made almost $50 in March from my books. Made almost $50 in April from my books. Feels good. Write more, self-publish more, keep promoting, and I believe I can be a full-time writer in about eleven to twenty-three months. Make a profession out of something I love. I believe that is something that everyone should aspire towards, and I believe it can provide great happiness. Make a living by doing what you love.

I masturbated to an asian girl, a white girl, and a black girl (male) today.

My friend came over and smoked with me yesterday. We're all seniors in HS. We became friends through her trying to workout some sort of relationship with my best friend, she wanted help and needed someone to vent to considering she already had a boyfriend. She says she doesn't know what to call themselves referring to her and my friend.

Last night she laid back toward me on my couch and I held her hand in mine as we talked for a bit. Pretty Veeky Forums. No care in the world, would be nice to have her as a gf, but I've set up this emotional boundary where I'm making it hard for myself to like a girl like this, regardless of how amazing she is.

my last fwb could only cum once then she was basically done for the night.

current one can just keep going and going. I'm honestly so jealous of grills.

studying is fine if you enjoy the subject matter, then it just becomes fun reading. The problem is when you have to do a test on it.

114,712 words and only 220 pages? You must be using a pretty big format. I'm set for 5x8" and 220 pages can get me about 75,000 words probably.

It's too much if it's your first book and you hope to traditionally publish. If you're self-publishing, who the fuck cares? Write as much as you like, but I would advise cutting it into a series. if you end up with 228,000 words, breaking it into three books would be a good call. Practically a necessity if you're going for traditional publishing.

What's great is this unmentioned emotion that I know is building up in the both of us. It's naughty as fuck and exciting. That's why it's getting closer everytime to us doing something.

>misuse

YOU ARE BEING PLAYED
ABORT ABORT

you're too young to know!!

sometimes I wonder whether I decided to study electrical engineering because half of the men on my father's side are electricians and it became rooted in my subconsciousness that I should be somehow naturally skilled in that field or if I'm actually interested in it. I always thought that electricity was my favourite area of physics but the truth is I started uni knowing nigh fuck all about it. I never explored it as a kid (actually I switched interests every month on average), never tried to build my own circuits and stuff (well, I built a very primitive electromagnet once) and never explored the theoretical side of it all wider than school syllabus required. I'm trying hard at school and I'm not doing too bad but every once in a while I hit a wall that will have to do with some more technical aspects and I start to wonder if I'm even cut out for STEM.

What's disgusting is the pisswater you were drinking before. You'll realize it eventually. Although, if you're American, chances are you'll never taste decent coffee in your life.
I find your image very beautiful. The colors and the mood it evokes are perfect. I still haven't seen the film.
I also want to be a filmmaker.

I think i'm developing a porn addiction.

I'm sad the place I download JAVs from has been shut down.

Also, this codeine high is great.

That is not healthy. Id talk about it with you but

>living in the 21st century
>not addicted to porn

lol

...

there's this grant funded program at my work that is only allowed to hire non-whites and every time i have to work with someone from this program they are fucking retarded but also sure they are the smartest person in the room...generally i can get through the day, but when i get home i'm like "god, how is it even legal to discriminate like that? and if they have to hire non-whites can't they find some pajeets with skills? do they have to pick the most retarded fuckers available?" they're always so smug, and yet always so stupid...

Cry harder, you cumguzzling faggot

I'm limiting myself to one thread, per board, per day. I looked through the catalog and I already know that this will be torturous until I get used to it, but I've already managed to abandon porn and impure (by my definition) masturbation, so I'm confident.

>My IQ is one hundred forty-four. That's fourteen points above genius level. Ninety-nine point nine-ninth percentile. That means there are around seventy million people as smart or smarter than me out there in the world; surely at least one other bridled genius with an empty spot in his head where a magnum opus will form one day is sitting on a couch in a gated neighborhood next to his mother right now, being uncerimoniously subjected to reality television. Surely there is at least one other person like me somewhere rotting away watching will-be trophy wives pull each other's hair and vie for attention on camera. I can't be alone. It dawns on me while a woman with a diphthong in her name jabs a finger accusatorially at a production guy holding a sound boom in one of the program's more self-aware moments (allowing the shot makes the whole thing seem less scripted, I imagine--which goes some distance toward maintaining the 'reality' factor, ironically the genre's only actual selling point), that I could be a writer. It takes no equipment. It takes no initial investment, no trade skills, no money, nothing but the capacity for a great idea and word processing software. I have Microsoft Office. My IQ is one hundred forty-four, and in high school a teacher of mine accused me of plagiarizing something I had written myself, she called my mother and said there's no way a kid wrote this. So we put together my case, my mother and I: an impregnable defense consisting of three essays I had written for previous courses, and then sent in the package of evidence. My established writing style earned me an apology from a forty-three year old high school history teacher, all by itself. I open my laptop and start writing down possible titles for a novel, deciding almost immediately that any author who goes with the "The _____" formula is a trite idiot and I decide that throughout the course of my critically acclaimed career, I will never title anything like that because I am not a hack or a charlatan. I have seen every episode of this show, and that woman never apologizes to anyone.

>I've already managed to abandon porn and impure (by my definition) masturbation
Don't watch it anymore and rarely go for 5 dfays without doing it but I always relapse and relapse hard.
Is it even possible to live without onanism?

This illustrates perfectly the descent into degeneracy that over-masturbation triggers.

sounds like a plan, i'm in, also, checked

This is more accurate. It's easy to spot them on /r/books too

Some people go to /k/ and say the same thing, that they think most of /k/ goes to /pol/. I think it's just the /pol/'s way of making themselves think they're relevant and not in the incredible minority. Though I do recall seeing that one pic where /pol/ ended up figuring out who the guy was that hit another guy during a riot with a padlock on a chain. Caused some pretty heavy bleeding. Turns out it was a teacher. Good on /pol/ for doing that, so I'll give them that much. Continue fighting the good fight against Antifa. They are the true fascists.

"The fascists of the future will claim to be anti-fascists"
-Sir Winston Churchill

Might have paraphrased a bit there, but you get the jist, and he was spot, fucking, on.

This is terrible and I'll not bother telling you why.

...

The days have been getting colder and colder recently. I'm sitting here in a rugby jersey dunking warm donuts into black coffee. I'm comfy.

There are two people I love and admire above anyone else and one of them is dying, and quickly. The cancer is causing him to starve so every day he looks smaller. He always said he didn't want to die in pain or with no dignity, I hope that he's able to leave peacefully, but I also know that he doesn't want to die, so he will fight until the end.

>Joke's on you
>I was only feigning disorder

I have those intrusive thoughts, mostly aggresive and sexual in nature, I think I'm frustrated

When you get past that quarter life mark you realise how little time you have left. Which is in one way bad, when you let it consume you: The doubts, the fear, balling you up; smaller and smaller till you shrivel pruned and mummified.
But in a way its a good thing to get that old, because now you can get past that awkward phase of living and just get on with things. You're 26 now. No time for bullshit. You're going to die soon. You want something, you do it. Fuck everyone else and their perspective. Get selfish. Get self-ish. You've thought too long about what other people think and feel when all along it was always about you and should have always been about you.
You want to read that book? Go fucking read it. No. Don't put it in the every sinking voidful abyss that is the "To Do" pile. It will never get done if it cannot battle its way back up to the front of your mind right away, as is the caveat of the short-term concious mind. I personally have spent way too much time not reading, which is criminal since its obvious I was personally cursed with a writer's mind: Obnoxiously self-aware and relentlessly melodramatic.

For a long time I wanted to craft, but spent too long worrying about crafting shit, I never crafted a damn thing at all. A hacks a hack, but guess what? A hack does shit shamelessly. They make enough shit to be recognised for making shit.And so should you too. Well, less on the making shit part but at least doing something that makes other people talk about you in some capacity.
That's legacy right there. The one thing people strive for that can't bear the thought of children crawling around their feet or just children alone for the madly ambitious. So yes. Get greedy. Read loads of books. Get a fucking eReader and hit that 3000 limit and read at least 10% of that. You've accomplished something for yourself. You have brought forth fuel for the furnace in the back of the mind. Light those dusty embers you left to perish in your adolescent years. The mind is in motion now, careering somewhat aimlessly but thats a good thing. Fuck what anyone else says, career into that damn wall if you have to. Smashing through it is what you want. A mind with no boundaries, no fucking breaks.
Don't give no motherfucking chad the chance to suplex you for 9999 damage. Get the pen to paper and throw that energy out you've been gathering all this time. Write until it hurts, and then write some more.

Nothing matters. Failure doesnt matter, because the act of doing alone puts you into the top percentile of people.
I have conversed with many people over the years and often enough 99% of those people will have nothing to say, (yet oddly enough feel entitled to be heard). I always wondered why but now I know. Those people are not do-ers. They only consume and follow the orders of others. Their lives are automated, look through their eyes, and you will see the cogs and gears and string that holds them together. Souless.