In your best prose describe how long this cat is

In your best prose describe how long this cat is.

This lengthy cat sags from elbow to toe. Suspended by loving hands. Like an ice cream melting from a summer glare. A ginormous girth he has. Fly, long cat. Fly away. Be free among the stars, you majestic extensive creature.

The cat is long. Think of how long a cat that is long is and this cat is about that long give or take a few units of arbitrary measurement.

long cat is long

about two feet

The long cat
He is very long
Long
LONG
This cat always goes on

For sale: long cat, never worn.

Years ago I knew how long Long Cat was. Now, a decade later, all I can remember about him is he was rather long.

I had heard that he was long. All those I had met had told me how long he was. In the long minutes before my audience, I mentally braced myself to see a cat that would be longer than any cat that I had seen.

And then I saw him, and realized he was so much longer than that.

Aujourd'hui, le chat longue est longue. Ou peut- être hier, je ne sais pas.

'bout tree fiddy

/b/ -- where once cats were long now lady with dong.

The cat will set you free. But not until it is finished.

Cut off the head and legs. Peel the fur. It'll make a great calf-warmer. No sewing needed.

Longcat
is
Long

dong cat is dong :DDD

Ride the cat, ride the cat
To the lake, the ancient lake, baby
The cat is long, seven miles
Ride the cat, he's old, and his skin is cold

Long cat is long

For sale: cat, still in box.

A magnificent creature with white fur and beady eyes appeared in my eyes. Its vertebrae were countless, spanning for what seemed to be infinite. Smug was written over the creatures face - it was quite aware of its size.

The cat is of normal size; it only seems usually long in that picture. Take any old cat and hold it that way; its slender body will stretch itself as to appear dubiously fluid on the Y axis. I tried it once with my cat, but it was old and fat and looked somewhat like an eggplant with legs; it still seemed longer than it did when standing. Cats are rubbery that way. Mine also looked like a round cushion when it was cold, and like a inky snail stuck to a ledge for lack of lubricant when it meditated, overwhelmed by its own self-sufficiency, congealed for hours in the form of an evil brick that sprouts black moss and pointy sensory appendices.

*unusually

This pussy is a long as your mom's

Longcat! Longcat! Blinding white
Sole companion every night:
Whose wristwatched hand or eye
Seized thy back stretch'd massively?

I've been trying my hand at reddit-prose.

Consider how you would describe an encounter with an animal to your friends. Rodent subjects tend to be large in such stories, to the point where calling a rat big serves little purpose, for all reported rats are big. Cats are decribed texturally and emotionally, and unlike dogs felines are invariably plain and vague shape-wise, barring maybe a degree of fluffyness should the creature in question be portraied positively. Here, though, THE CAT is LONG: may it be me or you or any third person producing the oral scetch, the uncarectheristic LONG is there, on the frontier, perhaps even stuck to the cat so it is referred then as a LONGCAT further down the tale.

The cat stretches far beyond traditional feline geometry. Entirely unnatural in length but supremely comfortable in its own nature.

No so for its owner. The man holds his own elastic moggy aloft, aghast at its excessive length. He is driven to show his cat to others, to vindicate his own inner horror and to reaffirm within his own mind that no such lengthy beast should ever exist.

In its own way, the cat pities the man. For the man will never understand what it means to be so resplendently long.

El gato es largo.

Can reddit not spell?

I know how to spell "uncharacteristic", but if you browse reddit long enough, you'll notice a trend for half-assed wordplay that doesn't make too much sense - a lot of people like "affected prose", i.e. an attempt for unique style through weird spelling and neologisms.

Any other misspellings are accidental, I barely know English.

Why is Reddit so try hard?

i miss old innocent meme culture

Loooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooong.

It's not that long...

Having completely immersed myself in its culture, I think the reasons for this span past simple desire for approval. The root of it is the same as of the incredible popularity of reaction videos: striving to be an outsider (not in the punk sense of the word, but rather as in "outsider perspective"). People watch reaction vids to experience vicariously, as they've lost the ability for having authentic experiences. Redditors are tryhards because they fail to enjoy being a part of the culture - they don't "feel" it so all they can do is replicate and get called out on it. They are eternal tourists: oblivious and ignorant, mimicing without understanding, always feeling homesick for a home they don't have.

Obvious reasons for this would be second-hand nature of Reddit and copious amounts of cargo cults it spawns. Redditor on Veeky Forums is not unlike a swedish boy who considers himself "a real nigga" visiting Chicago's ghettos, or a typical weeaboo spending their holidays in Japan.

>as they've lost the ability for having authentic experiences

now that you've brought this up I hate that I think I have become like this. A year ago my dog died who had been with me for more than a decade and I felt absolutely nothing. I'm sorry I'm not really trying to be edgy in fact I do realize this and I felt obligated to somewhat 'feel' something so I watched a lot of videos of dogs being put down and their owners crying over it until it got to me. I mean scratch that I don't really hate it I think I fear that I'm becoming like this; thinking about it what I really hate was being obliged to symphatize / emphatize and afraid that I could only do these things when I'm twice removed from the real thing; that there should be certain conditions that should be met to move me emotionally and that deep in my heart I really am a hypocrite.

What the fuck is wrong with me?

The cat seemed longer than a regular cat.

In the cat gazed in terror as it was held aloft as it's body drooped down, now and forever disproportionate and unable to walk, now accursed to move in an abnormal slither. It knows this and is gripped by the terror of the unknowable future that man has wrought upon it;.

Good, but clearly not prose

I think that what you're experiencing is the distance that exists between what you actualy feel versus what you believe is expected of you. The problems that I see with this is that based on what you're describing you're acting and conditioning yourself based on what you believe you should be feeling and doing.

I'm not sure if it's this place, it's habit of making fun of terrible things and callousness being regarded as a value of great importance, or if it's the whole exposure to media that causes this disconnection between the emotional life and the phisical one but I've found that if you're attempting to be "yourself", that is, true to your own emotioal world instead of the expected emotional world portraid by most forms of media and advertisment you have avoid comparing your own experience to the idealized ones that we're presented with and that, depending on how much media you've absorbed, can be a veri dfficult thing to do.

The good part is that you're aware of this discrepancy between what you believe that you should be feeling and what you genuinly feel and that's the first step in the long road that will, hopefuly, give you back the capacity for a genuine emotional experience.

The cacaphony of information is at fault. You know the framework for every experience before it actually happens to you, so you have means of interpretation. Once that happens, experience stops being a phenomenon - your conscience thinks that it can "put it into familiar terms". As a result, you lose authentical feeling, and because you pigeonhole it you also lose a lot of information.

Basically, you know the archetypal experience of "losing a pet". You've seen it in movies, read about it, talked with friends who went through it. When your pet died, the feeling of attachment and sorrow was overridden by unemotional knowledge; maybe "formal emotions" would be a better way to put it - you see yourself as a character rather than undescribable Yourself.

My pet died. I should feel bad and sad. At some point I need to get a new pet because grieveing can only last so long. That's how that scenario works.

Vicarous experiences appear to help, but actually damage your system even further. This is a wicked cycle, because soon enough your empathy will notice something's exploiting it and power down.

Now consider the fact that 95% of the newest generation know everything about the concept of first love at nine. Maybe you can weep for them.

Yeah, I agree, It's a terribly confusing experience when you have the framework of a situation in your mind but you lack the emperical side of it. In my experience it gets to a point where you'll end up with a sense of disconnection with reality since the emprical experience don't really match up with the Idealized one. On the other hand, it's a great coping mechanism for when shit goes south on your life, the possibility of distancing yourself emotionally from experiences gives you the posibility of not giving a fuck about most things other than bodily harm and disease.

>acting and conditioning yourself based on what you believe you should be feeling and doing.

Perhaps I was just being paranoid but I'm kinda afraid that I've never really built some emotional connection with anyone at all, I had friends and family that do care about me but I'm worried THAT I doubt that I feel the same way for them, that I never had that emotional depth that I assume they have for me. You could say that it's only this because I think/act out of being grateful but I believe there is something more profound than to owe someone as a basis for emotional connection.

I like wordplay, but people on reddit clearly have no idea why it's used and when to use it. I can tell that they just do it on reddit for the 'so clever xd' upboats. They definitely don't even have the faintest idea of aesthetics.

Does this mean that I'm basically an autist then?

a you my dear gawd

Nah, it means you've watched too much TV and movies and these gave you an idea of what the world looked like before you went out and experienced it. Look up Plato's cave thing for a better written explanation on this.

Well, from what you're describing you seem to act torwards other people more from a sense of obligaion and the fulfilment of a role than actual emotions, which is perfectly fine . The problem that I see is that in spite of your own self admited lack of emtional responses you believe that you know the depth of another person's emotions and their though process,

We never really get to know the people around us, not completley. It seems to me that you feel you owe people some kind of reciprocity for whatever affection they give you and while that's not exactly a bad thing in any way it will lead you into relationships with people you may not like at all but you stick arround because you have this sense of wanting to give back the same emotional response.

I know Plato's cave. It's just that I don't how to appropriately deal with death.

You are an anti-autist, which as it turns out is very similar to being autistic. You are too good at processing outside emotional frameworks, so you stop developing your own. Autists are horrible at that, obviously. The point of convergence is that an autist's emotions are stunted because there's no outside frame of reference, and yours feel stunted because of the reasons above. Big difference is that you can use empathy as a back-up: while not feeling happy, you can be happy for yourself as if you were another person. This sounds schizophrenic, but if you reflect carefully on your emotions you'll realize that they are often of that exact nature. Autists lack that ability, so you are a bit luckier.

The way I see it is that you have two choices, you either stay the same and accept that while you may lack the emotional aspect of your life you understand the framework that surround you and you also undertand the way to navigate it. You can do what you need to do but never really feel a connection to what you're doing. Or you can do the hard thing, which is to contiously stop yourself from comparing your own actions to any emotional expectations you may have. This will eventualy alienate you from people since you will no longer be playing a role in their lives but instead you'll be living for yourself.

This is a tough choice but it basically comes down to "Are you living for your own experiences or are you living to perform a role?"

Two hands held the alien, though it required at least thirty hands, kneaded together without any obstruction, and many more for the width, to reproduce the volume of this alien. It couldn't be called a "cat"

The long cat is long as my dick.

long cat is immeasurably long; an expanse that nears Infinity,

The cat is pretty long.

Like the short transitional phase of my limb, in which after ejaculating it still retains it's length yet having just extinguished itself so it hangs limply long, was the cat raised before me.

Call me Longcat

You're shit at describing long cats.

skinny nigga but my cat tall

She is hanging, hanging. She says that she will never end.

>The ghostly pale cat stretched unnaturally long in such a way words cannot accurately describe the chilling and shivering sensations one who beholds such an utterly alien being shall be stricken with.

How is my Lovecraft?

I still kek whenever I think about that one lovecraft story about a medusa-like monster that literally ends with, 'btw...she was black!'

I feel he would have used a longer word than 'pale' and also got 'eldritch' in there.

lol. i don't know that one.
I just started reading him, and I kek almost constantly at his purity of convictions.
thx for the criticism.

>that one lovecraft story about a medusa-like monster that literally ends with, 'btw...she was black!'

Source?

The cat was long today. Or maybe yesterday; I can’t be sure. The shitpost from Veeky Forums says: "In your best prose describe how long this cat is." Which leaves the matter doubtful; it could have been yesterday.

I like this

medusa's coil

"It would be too hideous if they knew that the one-time heiress of Riverside - the accursed gorgon or lamia whose hateful crinkly coil of serpent-hair must even now be brooding and twining vampirically around an artist's skeleton in a lime-packed grave beneath a charred foundation - was faintly, subtly, yet to the eyes of genius unmistakably the scion of Zimbabwe's most primal grovellers. No wonder she owned a link with that old witch-woman - for, though in deceitfully slight proportion, Marceline was a negress. "

last paragraph of the story

Picturing how long longcat is is no easy endevor. Picture a cat in your mind. Ok? Now double, or even (durst I say) triple the length of said cat. Now you are beginning to grasp the length of longcat.

lol. mulattoes btfo for all time.

>Smug
no you just failed

I was enjoying myself reading this post

>Redditor on Veeky Forums is...
until this.

The cat stretched onwards as far as the eye could see, his pale fur blinding my vision. The man holding such a terrifiying anomaly was brave indeed.
It seemed to me like a weird evolutionary misstep, in the same vein as a person affected by gigantism.
I shuddered and walked away. I'd rather forget about Longcat.

An cat of average length being held up by a person one presumes is its owner in order to trick the viewer into believing the cat is at the very least longer than average.

>an cat

Nobel Prize winner right here.

>massive-leye

>he thinks literature is about spelling.

>A Haiku for Long Cat
How long is long cat?
An ivory white furry schlong
Long cat is very long

>be me
>use best prose
>describe cat's length
>total success, 10/10
>life is wonderful

feels Veeky Forums man

*... clap clap clap clap clap clap clap clap*

>acclaim intensifies

I liked it desu

God dammit I love this board

Aside from those more obvious considerations touching OP's image, which could not but occasionally awaken in any man's soul some alarm, there was another thought, or rather vague, nameless horror concerning it, which at times by its intensity completely overpowered all the rest; and yet so mystical and well nigh ineffable was it, that I almost despair of putting it in a comprehensible form. It was the length of the cat that above all things appalled me.

You know what to do user, time to kill an Arab on a beach.

It's prose with arbitrary line breaks like all good poetry

The only appropriate way to deal with death I think is along standard lines of custom and ritual i.e. hold a funeral and have them buried. People excuse whatever behaviour on the basis that not everyone responds to grief in the same way because it's not that common (but in most cases inevitable). Then maybe one night it's 3am and it finally hits you what it feels like that something is gone and is never coming back; that your life has been made completely different by a comparatively small event that occurred during its course.

This is my favourite.

Oh, for I truly am intellectual, can I with bare eyesight determine whom'st holding the cat must think it be quite a many furlong long.

Tangent clasps sunder the yawning feline. Long as day.

Moggo so long
Doggos so jealous
But is it so wrong
To search for cat's phallus?

The cat meowed but it was a futile yelp and it didnt move or fight and being a beast of the lord lower than man it didn't think why or how but instead about how far away it's lower half felt as it hung from the human's hands and as the last of it's feline spine disk popped it's fur straightened and unsheathed the sharp claws. Instinct took over.

You can't rhyme jealous with phallus.

c'mon fellas.

See the cat. It is pale and long, it wears a furry alabaster coat.

...

It was very long.

and he purred on...

I don't know when I first heard of it. Must've been a long time ago. A passerby mentioned its name and so I spun on my heels, then followed him. Perhaps I was bored. I distinctly remember not having anything to do, but all else is a blur. Even the stranger's face. The creature he spoke of was massive. White fur like that of a mountain's blanket, and claws just as deadly as an ascent on such. The man's voice trembled more with every word said and I soon recognized I had to see the thing with my own eyes. Then he noticed me and was gone the very next moment.

He never sleeps,they say. They say that he will never die.

Bout tree fiddy

Long cat is as an air-borne totem pole of a single face. Except fuzzy. And rather looks as if he is readying himself to conduct a symphony.