In your best prose, describe yourself

I am doing... work.
I am... thinking.

It was because my dick was too big for them

Born on a mountain
Raised in a cave
Truckin' and fuckin'
Is all that I crave

relatable

Born on a mountaintop in Tennessee
Kill't me a bar, when me was only three.

Just some wanker.

He'll probably die at his own hand

A person who thinks so little of himself, but also thinks others are beneath him. He has both an inferiority, and a superiority complex.

a piece of meat that keeps on living

He thought he was clever. How hikarious.

Fag, a.

This is normal for the adolescent. I would suggest christianity.

A dude who doesn't care about prose.

christianity is the mcdonalds of spirituality.

A well adjusted man who doesn't have any need except love and casual shitposting. I am rich too.

Fat and gay

When I was little... I heard a sound
When I was little... I saw a shining thread
I spent my life trying to pull it
It still remains; it is still
The cause of my pain

Deeply unconvinced of my own moral worth as a human being, and contemptuous of anyone who isn't.

...

>moral worth

you can't convince yourself of something that doesn't exist

You're like the 50th person today I've seen with the "that's not real" attitude. Getting real tired of it desu. Literal philosophy of brainlets.

>everyone but me is an idiot

Behold! The faggot.

A man, and barely so, who has been orbiting around himself for some time now and in the process has lost any connection to the real world.

You sit down at a bar. It's a dusty, musty old place, but it's always done its job. As you order your usual, your eyes catch a new face. Not many of those still come to this dinky old town, you think to yourself.

Your eyes keep focus on this new face for perhaps a bit too long. He's got an air of confidence about him, no doubt accentuated by his strangely alluring messy blonde hair, and his icy blue eyes. His physique isn't the best you've seen, but it's no worse than yourself, you surmise.

Your attention is snatched away by the sound of glass clinking harshly against wood. The bartenders returned with your drink, and you quickly return to reality to thank him. He nods wordlessly, chomping down hard on a cigar you've sworn he's had since you first met him ages ago.

By the time you look back to where the mystery man sat, he's gone. In his place is a mysterious brown stain on the stool, and the stench of garbage...

I am caught on two stakes, and the stakes are drawing apart, and I am drawing apart. A cannonball rolls around my skull. Brass clashes. My brain is like a knotted snake and the knot is broken.

I am a knife on a string in the wind. The wind plays through me, and I must cut. A beast drives me, whips me, turns me about and sets me forward. Rope is wound around my mind and heaved. A pin is driven through me, through my head and spine and deep into the earth, and stitched around my eyes are faces, voices, touches and longings.

Nothing burns through me. My skin has been split and my insides scooped out, my cavity packed with slow-burning coal. A ball-bearing weighs in my stomach. I remember love and it keens through my heart and hooks in my brain and puckers my eyelids. He and I talk long and hard, in dreams. I have not seen him for three years.

send help

>he thinks moral phenomena are a thing
>he still confuses the text and the interpretation
user, I ...

Sad. The things that irritate you, and form your social prejudices do not alter the thing in itself.

A man of self awarded valour, winner of a hundred battles regarding nothing.
A calculating gamble who always tries not betting against the odds.

I would prefer not to.

A short sturdy creature fond of drink and industry.

A dwarf?
>when will they learn

I want to apologize for existing.

who to, ur mummy?
exist better nerd, that starts with independance

starts good but gets worse desu

Relatable

wew

You're thinking of Judaism

*whom to

Me, myself, in my lonely home
A seeming sadness to own
Were it not for my empty head
Content to drift in my bed

Stories, heroes, villains too!
This is my cause, what I must do
To go through every page and screen
To disappear in my mind's limousine

But even now the tide slips in
Ready to punish for my sins
And while I am content to wander,
Life is not content with me
I know I cannot hide much longer

He dreams of mastering a skill.

That's not prose, gaylord.

Whoops

old and angry

>My best prose
How does Veeky Forums like its prose?

Another example of an ambitious child with nothing in particular to be ambitious about. Merely a reflection of everything he puts in his head, his life serves to answer the question, "can a person who doesn't know where he's going, while obtaining every tool needed to get there, eventually arrive at his destination?"

Put another way, if destiny can be counted on, it will save him. If not he will flounder, and it will all have been for naught.

i have bad prose, bad grammar, i am bad.

MAN VS SELF

I'm a bitch,
I'm a lover,
I'm a child,
I'm a mother,
I'm a sinner,
I'm a saint,
and I do not feel ashamed.
I'm your hell,
I'm your dream,
I'm nothing in between.
You know you wouldn't want it any other way.

youtube.com/watch?v=6pVgX6WGDr4

A E S T H E T I C

Intelligent, Nihilistic and with a Wicked Sense of Humor

The Cosmic Deity orgasms most suddenly into a dirty shit encrusted toilet, splashing the rim of the seat with extraordinary volumes his potent glowing cum. A lusty whore named Mary, kneeling down to the toilet begins lapping the holy sperm up glutinously with her mouth from the seat and sides of the bowl where it had spilled over the edge and oozed onto the ground. She begins furiously scooping the luminescent ejaculate into her delicate tight virgin pussy with violent fisting motions causing lacerations and bleeding to her young vagina in an attempt to conceive. This was the moment I began my journey from the darkness and into the light of existence. 31 years later I will ascend to the cross as the savior of all man kind.

Pedantic