Write whats on your mind

you can't trick me into sharing my emotions with anyone

starting to feel soulless again

Why is it every time I go to write something, anything, be it a story or a poem I can't. I mean, I get some great few paragraphs or stanzas going I have a theme, an idea, a character, a purpose-- and then by the 25% mark I'm doubting the littlest of details, rereadin it over I find all the little painpoints that make me cringe and shiver and revile my creation to the point where I MUST destroy it
This happens every time I try to force myself to write anything. I end up hating it! Everything I've ever written, that's been a serious attempt at writing, and has been something in excess of a couple of pages, is ultimately destroyed?! I can't be the only one who does this, but how do I get over it! Is the only way to find somebody dedicated who can offer their insight and keep me motivated to finish my trash to ultimately get better? But I find these people ONLY dig into stupid shallow seashell tidbits I don't give a shit about "you forgot to capitalize that word"

is it wrong to want to write something perfect? at what point do you just say 'good enough'? how do you even go back over a work after spending weeks on it, and try to change the direction a story goes, or even to rephrase something? the language sticks, the story gets glued into place. you can change the words, you always have that power, but how can you destroy something you've created? however imperfect, isn't there beauty in the imperfect? can't it be more beautiful than something more perfectly crafted? and why must I obsess about how others will perceive my writing? how do I just be satisified with what I've created? it seems utterly impossible, like a skill that can never be learned, but a personality shift which I'm just supposed to wait for to happen?

Wouldn't being edgy about your catholic faith be following everything too strictly. Is it the thought of this user doing the rosary weakening your dedication down to a warm temperature?
Or is every weak/lapsed/non-catholic edgy in their Catholicism? :^)

tomorrow I'm gonna get my life together

I

I sought a theme and sought for it in vain,
I sought it daily for six weeks or so.
Maybe at last being but a broken man
I must be satisfied with my heart, although
Winter and summer till old age began
My circus animals were all on show,
Those stilted boys, that burnished chariot,
Lion and woman and the Lord knows what.

II

What can I but enumerate old themes,
First that sea-rider Oisin led by the nose
Through three enchanted islands, allegorical dreams,
Vain gaiety, vain battle, vain repose,
Themes of the embittered heart, or so it seems,
That might adorn old songs or courtly shows;
But what cared I that set him on to ride,
I, starved for the bosom of his fairy bride.

And then a counter-truth filled out its play,
`The Countess Cathleen' was the name I gave it,
She, pity-crazed, had given her soul away
But masterful Heaven had intervened to save it.
I thought my dear must her own soul destroy
So did fanaticism and hate enslave it,
And this brought forth a dream and soon enough
This dream itself had all my thought and love.

And when the Fool and Blind Man stole the bread
Cuchulain fought the ungovernable sea;
Heart mysteries there, and yet when all is said
It was the dream itself enchanted me:
Character isolated by a deed
To engross the present and dominate memory.
Players and painted stage took all my love
And not those things that they were emblems of.

III

Those masterful images because complete
Grew in pure mind but out of what began?
A mound of refuse or the sweepings of a street,
Old kettles, old bottles, and a broken can,
Old iron, old bones, old rags, that raving slut
Who keeps the till. Now that my ladder's gone
I must lie down where all the ladders start
In the foul rag and bone shop of the heart.

I've been depression free for some time and I feel it coming back, I think I'm going to have to read a book tomorrow or something

Been feeling like shit, fucked up my /cut/ can't go on, but I'm trying and I need to stop lying to myself and not let my emotions control my life

user, what's your check list? What are the things you're gonna do to get your life together?

>work out
>get a job
>start journaling
>apply to school
>etc

What actual, physical steps are you going to take. Plan it out. Make the you of tomorrow feel obligated to you of yesterday.

DUDE

I'd like to talk to her, but I should be sleeping and not online, and I know she doesn't care for me neither does anyone actually and I'll be unemployed in a week and why the fuck don't I just get to it and kill myself already? I've been flirting with this shit for months already and what's the fucking point of it all if I can't get laid with someone who has FEELINGS which I RECIPROCATE because that's what it means to be human, right? Not just a mammal or a reptile or a robot or whatever.
If I could be just like any other Average Joe, with a steady job, a steady fuck, some smidge of self-confidence and kids or whatever, I'd have no use for these stupidly elaborate coping mechanisms (MEANING ART). But no, daddy had to go fuck someone other than my mom and get another family, while mom had to pamper me to oblivion, and I had, I JUST FUCKING HAD to spend my whole adolescence locked in my room playing fucking videogames and dreaming up scenarios where I wasn't such a fucking loser.
Now, guess what? I have to deal with my feelings AND reality! I have bills to pay! No longer a virgin, but FUCK, what does it matter if I'm as good as dead to her? All the while, I cannot stop thinking about her. She shouldn't matter at all to me. I am the only person who should matter to me.

IF I COULD EVEN BEGIN TO CREATE SOMETHING WORTHWHILE!!

I mean, fuck it. I just can't get my shit together, it doesn't matter how hard I try. Do I have any shit to actually get together? I have no idea.

There you fucking go.

I'm running out of time for entertainment during the week because of studying, gym and work. It's depressing me. Atleast I'm not depressed. I am.

Same goes with art, I've been drawing my whole life with my fingers/wrist only to find out that as an adult.

at least you can still get excited about getting laid, i'm too old to get jungistically horny like that, now i just think about having kids which is even more expensive than getting laid, so it always induces suicidal ideation or whatever the call it, doubt i'll do it, but it's a nice fantasy

>beginning the first serious relationship I've had in two years
>just got last semester's grades back and they're near perfect
>starting dream job next week
>still feel sad every night
WHAT THE FUCK WHY CAN'T I BE HAPPY GOD FUCKING DAMNIT

Sounds like you fetishize death to a degree. Some people think about it more than others.
The concept of life and death. The thin line separating consciousness from eternity and the consequences that come from crossing it.
It's only natural to involve those closest to you. Loved ones are often one of the most important things to people. Imagining the death of somebody close is often abstract, almost like it couldn't happen. Part of you knows that death is inevitable, and so you might try to create a fantasy that is digestible. Some fantasies aren't as easy to accept, so you seek an answer to the potential conflict you might feel. In your case you wonder what it would be like if you were responsible for their death.

Just out of curiosity is everyone on Veeky Forums either a lapsed or LARPing Catholic?
t. lapsed catholic

i don't think they're LARPing.

t. pro-lapsed catholic

>ass humour instead of saint insults
i smell protestant

This Nicholas had risen for a piss,
And thought that it would carry on the jape
To have his arse kissed by this jack-a-nape.
And so he opened window hastily,
And put his arse out thereat, quietly,
Over the buttocks, showing the whole bum;
And thereto said this clerk, this Absalom,
"O speak, sweet bird, I know not where thou art." - Chaucer

at least quote more if you want to prove something, thomas

you want my love this you can't deny...
but how could i tell unless you tryyyyy.

i wanna be alone with you just us two
but how could i have known that you want me too?

aaaaaah
aaah aaah
aaah aaah aaaah
aaah aaah
aaah aaah

I just wrote this horseshit while shitting:

I need to start writing. Writing anything at all, really. Honestly, the grammar isn't even important. I must find something to do with myself or it's going to be this forever. If it's this forever I'll die.

I don't know where to start. What a great way to start.

I haven't started. This is postmodern bullshit because I'm too lazy and too terrified to put in the real work of becoming any kind of writer.

Why do I want to be a writer, anyway?

The answer is obvious. I want to feel better than other people. I want to feel smarter than other people.

I want idiots to consume my thoughts like gospel. I want to have a widespread and catastrophic influence on the world.

I want to feel that I've done my part in accelerating the inevitable heat death of the universe.

It's not like it matters, anyway. I don't even exist in any way that is even remotely comprehensible or relatable. There is no set of necessary and sufficient conditions which can capture what it is to be me, or even what it is to be. There is no difference between a human life and a crashing wave. It's the playing out of fundamental physical forces. There is no now. There is no past. There is no future. There is no borderline between myself and the outside world. I am everything at once, or I am nothing at all. The existence of objects between categories proves that the categories are naught but the haughty impositions of man on what was once a system free of judgement.

There is nothing. Epistemology is a husk. Ethics is a farce. Metaphysics is nonsense.

The only thing I can say with certainty is that I am not certain of anything.

I am the snake that eats its own tail. I am the refutation of all of history.

The end is coming, but there was never a beginning.

Time itself is a result of our biases.

Perspective is a result of our limitations.

He knocked again, louder this time, before jerking his head back over his shoulder in fright.

A monstrously fat squirrel looked back at him, apparently alarmed by the twitching tubby human he had alerted.

No time for squirrels. He knocked again. The bastard better answer or he was likely to keel over from dehydration.

After a lifetime of fear, an even fatter, even more poorly groomed man opened the door.

"Fuck. Am I too big for you?"

He shook his head, unable to find the breath to speak.

Five minutes later, he had sucked his first cock

I hate everyone and don't go outside

Some of us are entirely sincere, in ways that would shock you, by the sound of it.

I am genuinely in love with Anne Frank. She was a beautiful, witty, and graceful young woman whose light was snuffed out far too early.

I often fantasize about being Peter van Pels hiding with her.

Oh god imagine deflowering that sweet girl on a lazy Amsterdam afternoon, lying and learn what each other's bodies were for.

Now imagine nine months later, she's got a massive bulging stomach from carrying your child inside of her and it seems like she’s gonna pop any moment now. Her popped belly button makes it look like she's got a giant third boob where her stomach once was. She waddles around and can barely move half of the time. She's developed an insatiable craving for your dick and you've likewise developed a taste for her pussy. You’re both cooped up in an attic all day have nothing better to do besides fuck like an unsustainable third world population. You lie down on your back, she strips off her almost comically too small clothes and kneels on top of you. She grabs a hold of your rock hard cock, inserts it deep inside of her, and begins to ride you like a stallion. You feel the pressure from her incredible weight and huge round belly bearing down on you but the indescribable pleasure of her tight pussy throbbing on you cock negates any discomfort. You sink into her beautiful soul, into that secret place where no one dares to go. After 30 minutes, you and her are both moaning with ever greater intensity, you know it won't be long now. Suddenly, you feel your cock shaking like a V-2 rocket and the orgasm reaches it's climax as your cum literally explodes like an 88mm AT round inside her Sherman tank, blowing the turret right off. You and her both join as one, souls screaming from the sheer ecstasy. As the elation wears off, she lies next to you. Too exhausted to do anything else, you simply hold her in your embrace. In that moment, there is no family squabbles, no Nazis, no war. Just you and her, watching the sky turn pink with the setting sun.

You dream of the beautiful face you have found in this place. So soft and sweet.

One day you will both die and your ashes will fly from an aeroplane over the sea.
But for now you are young and all you want is lay in the sun, and count every beautiful thing you can see. Love to be in the arms of all you’re keeping here with you.

What a beautiful dream that could flash on the screen in a blink of an eye

Suddenly, you awaken from your slumber to the sound of a bloodcurdling scream. You open your eyes to darkness, it takes a split second for your vision to readjust. You feel lonely and cold. Another shriek knocks you back into reality. Anne sitting next to you, clutching her belly, face contorted from pain. A foul smelling fluid lies pooled on the floor around her mid-section. Your hot dirty fuckfest has brought on labor. she cries your name, begging for help, begging for you. The noise. She’s louder than a line of Louisiana Tigers giving the Rebel Yell right now. You raise your finger to your lips to tell her to be quiet. But the agony is too much for her to bear. You’ve got to do something or else it will awaken the entire neighborhood and with it, the Nazis. Suddenly you remember the bulge in your pants. You’ve got morning wood. It’s not the best gag, but it will have to do. You stand up, squat like a slav, using her belly as an impromptu stool, grab your still cum-crusted cock, and shove it right inside her mouth. At first, she tries to scream even louder in surprise, but your circumcised 100% Kosher dong blocks her windpipe, reducing her screams to a barely audible gurgle. Suffering from unbearable pain, she bites down on her your meat with each contraction. Now you’e in pain too. With each contraction, she bites down harder, it feels like she’s gonna tear your cock right off. Eventually, the pain subsides for her and she doesn’t bite down as much. Now it seems almost as if she’s starting to enjoy it. You can feel your child kick on your testicles. Clearly it’s excited too. Suddenly, your cock starts to shake like a V-2 again, you pull it out of her mouth just in time. You bust your steaming hot and sticky load, blanketing her like an incendiary carpetbombing of Dresden. Semen stains her mountaintops (all three of them), along with her hair and most of her face. She quietly giggles from the ironic amusement of it all. You giggle too.

I make friends with people because I think they're inferior to me and when their lives start to improve I cut all contact.

Then a look of sharp pain shoot across her face. She’s having your baby. You wish you could bear all the pain for her, but all you can do is sit and watch. You look down at her vulva, still oozing with cum from that great fucking you gave her a few hours ago. You can see a head of black hair poking out. You fear that she’s gonna start screaming again, much to your relief, it seems that she’s gotten better control of the pain, thanks to you. She begins to softly moan, it seems as if instead of experiencing excruciating agony, she’s experiencing an orgasm. You can’t help but grin as she keeps pushing. As more of the head becomes visible, her moaning intensifies. Finally a small head emerges from her vagina. You can see a face wrapped in an umbilical cord. A small pair of hands grab the head, she weakly tries to pull the head out. You put your hands around the head and begin to help her pull. Desperately, she goes into the next contraction with all of her energy, and pushed with everything inside of her. She feels everything. She feels shoulders and hips and feet all slide down inside of her and pop out in one long push, with a rush of fluid behind it, and it feels amazing. She throws her head back with a rip-roaring orgasm that penetrates the very heart of her soul.

You look at the newborn now lying on the floor and see that it is a boy. You have a son. Perfect, perfect in every way. He begins to stir and you realize he’s about to cry. After all that’s happened, you don’t to given away to the Germans from the wails of a newborn. You gently lift him up and place him on Anne’s semen stained mountaintops. The baby quickly finds the breast is soon sucking happily. Semen, blood, amniotic fluid, breastmilk all mix and fill the air with a strange scent that while repulsive, is also extremely arousing. You can’t resist the urge anymore. Your mouth land on top of Anne’s opposite breast, sucking first your own cum, but then her tasty milk. You look into her eyes, she’s somewhat annoyed, but too exhaust to really care. A gust of wind coming from a hole in the wall blows through, cooling both of your sweat-drenched bodies, but also disturbing the little one. You’re afraid he’ll start shivering. You look around the dusty attic for something to keep the baby warm. You settle on Anne’s fur winter jacket, having sat unused for the past two years. You know Anne will definitely not be happy that you ruined her favorite coat, but it’s for the best. She hasn’t been able to fit in it for the past nine months anyway. You carefully wrap your little one in the coat and hand him to an exhausted Anne, she continues to quietly feed him. You notice the dead silence for the first time, not even the other occupants of the Annex, mere feet away in the next room, were roused. You feel a sense of relief. You’re safe, for the moment at least. Eventually you curl up next to her quietly and begin to doze off. Your secret sleeps in winter clothes. Tomorrow, you can find a way to explain the night’s events to your parents and hope they don’t kill each other. You can somehow find a way to get your little bundle of joy to safety. But tonight, you just rest, your first night as a family.

The girl I'm having an affair with just broke up with her boyfriend and I'm terrified because she'll soon start asking about us going official and I don't like commitment or trust people.

Oh god, just thinking about this is making me rock hard. The hardest I’ve ever gotten. Oh, I think I’m gonna… I’m gonna-

*Cums in Diary*

mental illness isn't that shocking desu

Covfefe

green tea

If it makes you feel any better, this isn't a writing exclusive thing. I like to draw and animate things but just I hate just about everything I do and I'm embarrassed by it. Still I post it all online in a blog that nobody follows to keep a record of the things I make and revisit them.

Success and becoming a better me everyday. Also trying to reach higher and higher level of consciousness mainly because I'm currently reading a book called cosmic consciousness.

The biggest flaw in modern secular society is that there's no mechanism for forgiveness and absolution from sin.

This really started under Protestantism, but now in a world with no Christianity at all it's a thousand times worse. People talk about how in secular politics, privilege is the new original sin, but what's missing is that all sin is now permanent. The Catholic Church has the power to forgive and remit sin, provided the sinner shows repentance, and it's a mechanism with divine finality. When you confess and repent, the sin is gone, and no longer clings to you.

But in the secular order, sins attach and can't become unattached. The rapist is always a rapist. The racist is always a racist. The thief is always a thief. People do terrible things, and they can't be absolved of them, even if they seem to be genuinely repentant and remorseful. And, as a corollary to that, even when people express remorse for things they've done, you can never be sure of their sincerity any more, since they may merely be trying to create a dissonant brand or a counter-narrative.

No sins are forgiven. No debts are discharged. No reputation is ever fixed. It all just piles up until something cracks, and we wonder why.

This is an interesting viewpoint. So you think a reversion to religion as the highest authority would be a benefit to the world? Aren't (and weren't) there people who would continue to sin after being forgiven, despite the threat of eternal damnation?

If you remove the threat of divine punishment, it falls upon man to punish those who transgress. By necessity, man must submit to a higher power (Death if nothing else), but surely he has the authority to exercise judgment upon his own kind?

The rants of rape and all the 'isms' are a means by which society can control its own. The fear of being judged for your actions, words, skin color, religion, who you like bumpin' uglies with, etc. discourages people from discovering personal values. People are told to be afraid of who they are and afraid of who they believe other people to be. These fears are being massaged instead of assuaged, as you can see every day when you look at the news. To a conspiracy-minded person it might seem as though there is a plot to turn us into homogenous little meat puppets.

I agree that something needs to happen, but I'm not sure traditional religion is that something. I believe that people need to celebrate the things that make us the same (the love of God, perhaps) rather than attack our differences. From universal common ground the self-assurance and wisdom required to become a fulfilled individual will arise.

I can't believe she betrayed me.

>I've been praying the Rosary every day for about a week now, inspired by Our Lady of Fatima. I actually really enjoy it, and it only takes about fifteen minutes.
God bless you, user.

too much going on in my head, can't focus

I'm might be moving to chicago in about a month, and I won't even know for sure until later today. Having never lived in any city besides my hometown, I don't know how I'll deal with a totally new environment with no friends or family near me. I also don't know where I'll live yet, and I'm a bit nervous about the possibility of having to settle for a bit of a hood area. In any case, I'm excited. I've been looking for a change and while I dream of a comfy life alone in the middle of nowhere, I've always been attracted to the poverty, filth, and decay you can find in major cities. I also look forward to changing my lifestyle in a dramatic way, though old habits are hard to break. I'll also need to get an FOID and CCW with a couple new pistols, which will be a pain in the ass... How the hell do you conceal guns in the summer anyway? I'm going to look like a jackass wearing an M65 in the heat.

Despite all the happiness I've experienced lately, there's been that underlying dread that makes an appearance randomly throughout the week.

It's typically a very ephemeral experience that lasts just long enough to remind me that ultimately whatever happiness I'm experience is either a) fleeting or b) Illusory

I know in some ways that this should motivate me to understand how exceptionally lucky I am to even be in such a position of temporary happiness, but it's like I'm already nostalgic about shit that hasn't even ended yet.

read lao tzu's tao te ching. It's been helping me deal with constantly contextualising things to the past

also i'd suggest meditation to understand consciousness and how you're body feels - which is the most intrinsic part of you

good luck

Gonna go back to the kitchen to make bean burgers and watch some anime before I'll continue to study for oral exam

Not sure if or

I think this character I'm writing is self-inserty to a point of mild cringe (the protag falls in love with him), but... the point isn't wish-fulfilment, the point is that he represents my experience and the experience of people like me, which I think every author has the right to... write. The story is still about the protagonist.

Anyway, I'm stuck because I'm self conscious. I have to not only face but publicly admit my flaws.

I recognize how lame this is but I'm seeing someone with drastically different views than me and its constantly throwing me off my game

Communism has poisoned the spirit of my people. They still crave it. They have a delusion that life was better back then, while even statistically speaking it's somewhat better now, which is a miracle considering what we went through. Life was more carefree, for sure, mostly because you couldn't lose your job, and getting a job was a party membership book away. How strange it is, that the ideology that preaches equality creates such a selfish mindset, and selfish in a specific way. People don't want to be rich, they want other people to be poorer than them, they want all government officials to receive a minimum wage not realizing that doing so will only increase the already high corruption.

>How strange it is, that the ideology that preaches equality

communism preaches materialism not equality, whilte capitalism, if it preaches anything which is doesn't anymore than gravity preaches weight, it might preach freedom

communism is horrible

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

what happened man?

I gotta go down to the students union, during that puzzle league tournament, to find a qt. I need help.

gainz bruh. do you lift?

WHAT ARE YOU DOING?WHAT ARE YOU DOING?

Why are libs such petulant faggots?

pussy :^)

I've been chipping away at everything in my life in some vague quest for authenticity and aesthetic value, but all it's led to is a fundamental confusion and instability in both me and the world that previously wasn't there.
What kept me going anyways were silly, spontaneous and often very short-lived ideas, some bordering on delusions of grandeur, some just fundamentally dishonest. I've spun a handful of these around in my head for a number of years now, while also distracting myself with video games, music, sports. There is no quest for authenticity here, and the things, if any, that I set out to reach or at least seek, like honesty, loss of the feelign that I have to make a certain impression on people, deeper appreciation for my condition in life, none of these have truly arrived, and even in the moments where it feels like they have, real life comes around the corner, and it's so much louder and brighter than my tiny moments of clarity or inspiration. I'm also probably not a good writer, or even a writer at all.
It's easy to declare all these things and I've become exceedingly good at this exact way to judging my situation while doing exatly nothing about it. Feels stuck, man

What is the third option that is not communism or capitalism? Is it just letting people live their lives and figure things out for themselves?

>Is it just letting people live their lives and figure things out for themselves?

how is that not capitalism?

...

I need a dick on my arse badly

It's making me emperor of the world and letting me be the arbiter in all questions of law and life (also I get to make young, beautiful, sad women fall in love with me)

I guess the problem I have with the capitalist system is that there is not enough capitalists. The majority of people become dependent wage earners.

That's the only problem?

Without anyone to spend time with, I continue my days in solace. Yet in this dim light, I doubt there's any soul shimmering in the shades.
We are not worthy of time, and we incessantly waste it on one another in this faceless forum.
The yearn for a better life seems incomprehensible.

>Yet in this dim light, I doubt there's any soul shimmering in the shades.

what do you mean by this?

>The majority of people become dependent wage earners.

you say there should be more capitalists but you chose to waste your life watching cartoons and shitposting instead of getting an mba at a top 5 school and moving to silicon valley or manhattan, and that's fine, it's called freedom, some people like to create the future of mankind by shaping our industry to their will, others like to watch anime waifus on tv, each person does what suits them

>it's a question of personal morals whether one becomes a capitalist or not

i guess that's a comfortable view

To highlight the disjuncture. My soul withholds alone. To wish for a spirit, even mine, yet it never shows.
The homophone sole to mean a lack of footprint or direction.
That which matters is senseless.

capitalism gives everyone the freedom to do what they want with their life, some people are content to masturbate to cartoons, others are decide to start billion dollar companies, we are all free to do what we choose

>capitalism gives everyone the freedom to do what they want with their life,

you know that's insanely hyperbolic and probably not true and that if it was, everything would fall pieces. "everyone gets to do what they want" is a myth, it has never been the basis for a functioning social system

>it has never been the basis for a functioning social system

it is the basis of capitalism my friend, stop being a silly hater, if your destiny in life is to be a cartoon masturbator, embrace it, you are free to do as you please

This emphasises my point. This utopian ideal of capitalism is just as false as the utopian ideals of communism.

The half black qt at work remembered my name and waved at me today. God, why is she such a cute.

the future determines the past as much as the past determines the future. causality is a line not an arrow.

the universe is inclined to care about what happened before only as much as it needs to, and if what had happened before must be something to fit what is happening tomorrow then so it shall have been

physics is abominable to the human condition

Why am I here again at this time of night?

Being Catholic, I would certainly like very much for religion to reassume its place of prominence in the world. Purely from a point of practical necessity, however, I feel that, as I said, what we're deeply missing is a mechanism by which someone who's guilty of something (whether that guilt is innate in their nature or whether it's the result of an action of theirs) can have their guilt remitted and be dubbed "clean." I agree that, for example, crimes should be punished, but it seems too often that even when punishment is meted out and suffered, the anger at those who have been guilty lingers, and prevents full reintegration of the guilty into society.

Or maybe this is just a uniquely American problem. I've noticed Americans don't really "do" forgiveness, and that on the contrary it seems like a really American thing to hold grudges and seek revenge. I don't think this is healthy at all.

not everyone is meant to take the spotlight. some can't even become an extra in the background, some can't sit and watch the show. only a higher power can man the lights.
we can all stand outside the theater in the rain, though.

I think the problem is people have idealized everything except for being human. And since these monomanic ideals are unhuman, they dont know how to be honest with themselves or look honestly at other people.

To post trips

I just reread what i wrote. It makes no sense. Its been a long day. I apologize for shitting up a theological discussion.

Anons, my life is just work and sport. I use Veeky Forums to create a 20 minute buffer between bed and office. This crazy place is the only thing preventing me from insanity.

Stop sporting and do something that you enjoy more. Spend the time not sporting to find more enjoyable work?

I think the reason I always stay up too late is because of a sense of disbelief that the day has already ended and contempt for how worthless it had been.

I'm becoming the same rude, narcissist and resentful piece of shit as everyone else in my family.

lo-fi chill-hop study music compilation 12 hours

A true narcissist would never even consider the possibility that they are becoming or have become a narcissist.

You're just a hothead douchebag.