Write the most batshit, outlandish, avant garde, post-metamodernist (etc.) shit you can think of off the top of your head.
GO
OP; - Is...a; a fag?!
Kangaroo notebook?
Idunno.
Haley Carnasus, Parsimons ate, and spit seeds out like God spit men out of Eden, and stepped upon the seeds that they might split, and never sprout, and nothing be of them ever but as salted earth and dessert upon mars beneath sun within world beneath creation of god of things unknown to man who was by god made who by man is worshiped beneath sun.
I ran out of things to say before I was born, it's all worthless words hurled like fistfuls of sand at granite mountains.
I am told there are molecules in brain that there is hope and goodness and (I am told by me) I have seen it. It has seen me, it is not for a meaning but for a brief fulfillment of purpose, it is garbage to simply point out and speak about what is being spoken about.
I hate writing, I hate wanting to be someone who I am not yet, I hate wanting to be admired and loved and suspecting I am not.
I hate journalistic self-appraisal and appeals to "can't we all just get along we're all alike I am like you." This is a swelling void that is a sucking vacuum that can eat everything.
I would rather speak of forests, but I do not know the names of trees, nor can I tell elm from oak, nor have I heart to stomach swallow.
There is foam upon ocean, exhausted analogy. Humans lack the ontological constitution of numbers, product of primes, perfect, I wish my intestines were made of porcelain and amber. My moods are made of terra cotta and I sift swallowing cockstruck sand, say random things to razzle and dazzle you.
You and me, me and you, we are, we are not, we are, we are not, there is nothing to say, language is pointless, but it is not.
Haley Carnasus is a lovely girl and a stupid pun. Footnotes belong in essays, biographies are essays, being candid is forced and fake. fuck man, fuck, do you like this? do you hate it? You must hate it. You can't say you like it or hate it now. You are not a critic, you are a stupid human with pointless words too. Your prose is garbage like mine.
>>7845508
Joy wonders why no one names their children “Ulysses” anymore and decides that if she were to ever have a child she would name him “Ulysses”. She understands however, that there is the obstacle of finding a suitable male to mate with and would need to share her desire to “bring back” the name Ulysses from the folds of history. The child would also need to be a boy. A girl named Ulysses would be admittedly, hilarious, but not an appropriate girl’s name.
Joy ponders these types of things whilst lying alone at night.
Hit the streets and tear this bitch up like I'm Willie B
No Tennessee, but the chain on my neck is a T
No Memph' Bleek, bitch I own the Roc not Jay Z, ya dig?
War Ready like Tracy T, ya dig?
Racks on racks on racks just might pull up in my Spider
All my diamonds black you can motherfuckin' knight 'em
All these pussy niggas whack, I'm a murk em every night'll
Pull up screamin' blat, got my motor out a Viper
Got 100 million flat like my motherfuckin' idol
I might eat it, I might lick it, but I swear i'll never bite 'em
Every time I dress myself it go motherfuckin' viral
Pussy niggas stealin' swag, bring my shit back like recycles
I might ask her for some head
I don't know that ho, I act like she dead
Insurance on my money like a wreck
Every time I see her, she lick the cleavage
Fuck her on a $10,000 bed
I could never love her, fuck her head
And suck my dick like Beavis no, Butthead
Cocaine white like Justin Bieber bitch
I might show the racks and tease the bitch
I might want it but I don't need the bitch
I been flooded out my Jesus bitch
I want your pizza, Little Caesar's bitch
Ninth Ward, I buy my diesel bitch
I don't wanna talk or see a snitch
No teacher, we chalkin' shit
I pass the school, I pass by all the staffs
I just want that neck like a giraffe
I like fish in water, I'm a bear
17.5, I shave it like it's Nair
Lay out, watch the kids like a daycare
I don't play games, no I'm not the fair
I got Hot Wheels like a motherfuckin' chariot
Chanel Vintage, boy this shit is rare
fucking retarded thread concept, and I will bet anyone any amount that every single sincere response will be cringeworthy as fuck
>>7845572
it's the first verse to Halftime by Young Thug
ironic plagiarism is the future
Hezekial Saw the Tunnel The
Trash Mountain with heaps of
souls, 107 billion souls amalgamated
life that was and is no moreeeee
please text me back
you make me feel small when you think me small
I would never rape or murder a person or go
on a spree shooting
unless I toodly snaple
toy story was not even a good movie
redbox is wear i buy my SWORDS
MY, fucking swords
kjsbkjsbgö kahökdhkvöadvadhvkjdbl uehböaergidvi7ptyanpsr7t wigy98aew4yg fakvdfhnp7qengvöeubh aöudfhgeurh vd-kfbösdubjdbainöughn ödfhn övn aiuiuhnohno nbh ghuu sb buöbkb ahkbd öub höudfbhköudbhödfkuhnöuh8ey8eiwah kfbhnökbköfdbafdnv adfkv mlökbjödbn adb
yeah baybee you know momma loves it when you plug her skullhole with that big white nigger dick wel*come* back (fufufufufu)
>>7845589
I like it
"Once I was writing
And my dick started
Burning it burned a
Lot so I went to
My doctor except
He was not there so
I went and saw a
Different doctor
He was a Jew but
Good enough so I
Pulled down my pants and
Told him "Hey doc, look--
My cock, its burning"
And he said "Woah there--
That does look bad" so
He got on his knees
And pulled my foreskin
Back and saw that it
Was full of dick cheese
So he said "Woah there--
That does look bad" so
He washed it off and
Gave me some overpriced
Pills which stunk because
They were antibiotics
But I forgot I was
Allergic so I went back
And said "Hey doc, look--
My dicks still burning--
And now I'm real sick"
So he said "Woah there--
That does look bad" and
He called his nurse she
Had big tits and a
Nice ass but was too
A Jew but good enough.
>>7845508
However, when a more confident after losing his hair. My wife is not exactly the first ka'aha'aina. Because everyone in Kekahi'alā and could not see anything in the way of his eyes. He leads the Lord, and call home, trying to hide what you love in kēlā'ao'ao should be a great mental effort.
>>7845660
So I told her "Hey bitch
How 'bout you ride this
Dick once this little
Infection is gone?"
And she said "Woah there--
Not even a date first?"
So I said "look here--
I ain't got no time
For dates I'm a big
Writer and I got to
Write or I will get
Arrested for not
Paying my ex bitch
Alimony, kay?"
And then she said "kay"
So I got my dick
All cleaned up and then
Started looking 'round
For the nurse kike bitch
Then I found her and then
Told her "Hey nice ass--
You ready to fuck?"
And she said "Woah there--
I'm not some dirty
Skank you got a car?"
And I said "Of course
I got a car you bitch"
So I went outside
And hotwired a big
Van that smelled of
Child molestation
But sprayed my shitty
Cologne in there and
Told her "Get in bitch"
So we fucked hard and
I came raw in her
Fat ass and again
In her loose cunt and
Mouth then later I
Felt that same burning
Again and I thought
To myself "Fuck that
Bitch wasn't even clean"
So I got up and
Went to the address
On her license 'cause
I stole her wallet
And bought junk with it
And she said "Woah there--
Didn't ya know I
Was a prostitute
On the side?"
So I said "Look here
You dumb cunt I just
Got rid of this shit
You better fucking
Fix this you piece of
Shit or I'll beat ya"
And she said "Woah there--
Aren't you the piece
Of shit for catching
This shit in the first
Fucking place?" So I
Left and walked home and
It started raining
So I got soaked
And probably got
A cold too don't know
So I went inside
My shitty little dank
Apartment and then
Poured myself a glass
Of rye then got up
And ate a stale rye
Sandwich with slimy
Old bologna
And hummed some shitty
Old jazz song from my
Childhood and then I
Thought to myself "I
Think its time to die."
But I didn't 'cause
Life is worth living
Even if it's pure
Shit sometimes The End."
- Charles Bukowski
For a moment, just a moment, my grip loosened upon my ballpoint and the universe acknowledged a new instance of the irreversible. My ballpoint fell, silent and dumb, until its contact with the hardwood floor. There, with a convulsive manner and rattling clacking of plastic on wood, my ballpoint sobered from the dream of perpetual suspension. No ink did it spill and no words had it written. I then realised I had made a mistake getting a vasectomy.
>>7845548
Psychoanalysis Practice 101
Mother, come hither
She comes, hither, thither
Mother, dithered down to a lather
Hot arrows -
Forty swift swords ago, raided and tortured
Forty swift swords fell like shadows off the planet
Starspangled icedangled newfangled ice mirror lake vomited in that dark bright night
Like serpent swans they melt in sap and
plasma gasses
Metal marrows -
Their faces, no, their faces behind the faces
Their faces that couldn't clip the sun
Their faces tunneled one to one
The sharp faces hot faces neverliving faces
stonestruck stainstuck neverdying faces
Once in a while they lift that meddle and battle.
I stood like a coward tree
and snapped my javelin spine
to spew my slushy from Sonic
All over the pristine crystalline
rims of dad's beloved brand-new BMW and
my fusillade pulse plumbed the back of my skull and
My Vans licked with foamy blue syrup and
I blocked the tense sun with my hands and
My mouth an acrid copper acid hopper and
I felt like
I functioned like
a prototype.
>>7845673
I liked it.
“Reality is dead,” says Bataille. The subject is contextualised into a
precultural paradigm of expression that includes consciousness as a whole.
In the works of Madonna, a predominant concept is the distinction between
creation and destruction. But if dialectic objectivism holds, we have to choose
between the postdialectic paradigm of narrative and Sartreist absurdity. The
example of neocapitalist situationism depicted in Madonna’s Material
Girl is also evident in Sex.
>>7845714
i really enjoyed this
>>7845967
I can't tell wether you wrote this as a joke, this is from a genuine essay, or that generator done did it.
>>7845967
>we have to choose between the postdialectic paradigm of narrative and Sartreist absurdity.
you were close.
Why am I reading this thread? I coulda been a contender instead of a bum, which is what I am, wasting my time on 4chan.
What is this sweltering feeling of a million endorphins rushing through my veins?Toddler, do not make me an acquaintance of pain.
>>7845508
i have stolen everything in this thread, posted it into a google doc, and will be publishing it (tweaked) at some point in my life
>>7846188
underrated poast
how i loved you and what you GET IN ROBOT.... loneliness, fear, dislocation... THIRD IMPACT NOW.... the truth is... neon genesis but just cause it sounds cool... melancholy
Cringe worthy thread lads, really nice.
Broken interiors squelch inside a bustling drop of orange style alleys
Romantic peaks of a blind eye dazzled in the moonlight sun
Shattered windows shine down momentary glimpses of a life we once knew in a shag carpet underneath the florescent depression.
Death to all it said, it broke down a tattered mug of loophole cream filled idioms.
What's red and smells like blue paint?
White paint holding its breath!
A loop through the copcuff to twisttrip time the bulletblast and blasted bullet slide all stonechalk and grinding thru the barrel to tip through the gun. The copcuffed officer and his sweatdrip chin and yellow rows of teeth and teeth, relaxed and relaxed, calm and calm. That blasted bullet from the bulletblast hits the kid smack apart into the crater before it craters and caves and bleeds and bursts and swells with bruiseblood: let out the bruiseblood from the cracked skull as thick lava thickest pours from a crack in the earth all hot and dusty. Down comes the child all buckled and throwing and waving, sputtering argyle argon argee argoe a grow are grall and when he hits his crater it all tapers into the quiet and hush of the night and metal boxes cooling the apartments around them.
I watch gay porn in my garden shed
I lie to everybody that my father's dead
I smell like Joop... my son has croup
Picking up the hooker that I like the best
Crying on her toilet cause my life's a mess
I'm sleeping in the office cause my wife's depressed
I'm heating streaky bacon in a trouser press
>>7846804
GOD TIER GRUNGE RIGHT THERE
>>7845508
damn ain't that the real shit? dab for my homie phife dawg RIP. fr i know you on the toilet scrolling on your phone right now- wipe nigga that shit is nasty. fr don't you hate when you look at your phone at night and the brightness way up. michael jordan crying face. let me get to the story fellas dont you hate how females always starting an argument with you and then when you get mad at them for getting mad at you they get mad at you again? damn fr it's lit.
GODGODiGODGODGODGODGODGODGOD
GODGODamGODGODGODGODGODGODGOD
GODGODsadGODGODGODGODGODGODGOD
>>7845508
N\o
so I will take with me to the end of May,
When washing the fire which consumed the land,
other problems that are not perceived, and more devastating,
tenuously I worked under my comic traits,
and one after another, dispersed membrane, leaving still pulsates
and condemned the burning ground of my soul
Never before and never they are measured at their sterile nobility.
mean bean spleen jean
Write the most batshit, outlandish, avant garde, post-metamodernist (etc.) shit you can think of off the top of your head. Write the most batshit, outlandish, avant garde, post-metamodernist (etc.) shit you can think of off the top of your head. Write the most batshit, outlandish, avant garde, post-metamodernist (etc.) shit you can think of off the top of your head. Write the most batshit, outlandish, avant garde, post-metamodernist (etc.) shit you can think of off the top of your head. Write the most batshit, outlandish, avant garde, post-metamodernist (etc.) shit you can think of off the top of your head. Write the most batshit, outlandish, avant garde, post-metamodernist (etc.) shit you can think of off the top of your head. Write the most batshit, outlandish, avant garde, post-metamodernist (etc.) shit you can think of off the top of your head. Write the most batshit, outlandish, avant garde, post-metamodernist (etc.) shit you can think of off the top of your head. Write the most batshit, outlandish, avant garde, post-metamodernist (etc.) shit you can think of off the top of your head. Write the most batshit, outlandish, avant garde, post-metamodernist (etc.) shit you can think of off the top of your head. Write the most batshit, outlandish, avant garde, post-metamodernist (etc.) shit you can think of off the top of your head. Write the most batshit, outlandish, avant garde, post-metamodernist (etc.) shit you can think of off the top of your head. Write the most batshit, outlandish, avant garde, post-metamodernist (etc.) shit you can think of off the top of your head. Write the most batshit, outlandish, avant garde, post-metamodernist (etc.) shit you can think of off the top of your head. Write the most batshit, outlandish, avant garde, post-metamodernist (etc.) shit you can think of off the top of your head. Write the most batshit, outlandish, avant garde, post-metamodernist (etc.) shit you can think of off the top of your head. Write the most batshit, outlandish, avant garde, post-metamodernist (etc.) shit you can think of off the top of your head. Write the most batshit, outlandish, avant garde, post-metamodernist (etc.) shit you can think of off the top of your head. Write the most batshit, outlandish, avant garde, post-metamodernist (etc.) shit you can think of off the top of your head.
it were hours ago -- days in fact -- since last i slept. but days to me and days to you and days to whom they may concern are but days and ways to pass the time as it sprays jizz in your face. the princess kissed the frog and conscious hip-hop turned back into a middle school science fair
Fuck, man, Jimmy is dead. The mortician ripped his cock off, I think. I shouldn't be at this funeral on acid, seeing his dead body there. His face looks horrible and white. Why did somebody smear a thin layer of clay or plaster on it?
Jesus Christ came to the funeral too. He came in through the back I guess. He touched Jimmy's forehead to bless him and my cock got hard, I don't think it was related but it happened. There where churbim, which are terrifying monstrous creatures with wings, flying around the parking lot earlier.
Jimmy's pop didn't see it because he was busy shopping for urn's on Amazon (he decided, after his third son had died, that he would kill himself). But I saw it, I wanted to meet Jesus but my boner was embarrassing and I thought the world was ending.
I wish Jimmy hadn't gotten in so deep. He looked like a corpse for at least a year before he finally died. I could see the fat getting sucked out of him by methamphetamines. It's crazy that Jesus didn't come down to earth to bless him while he was still alive, but Jesus hasn't been seen in 2,000 years and it's really special that He came for Jim. I think this means the world is ending though. I really shouldn't have taken lsd today because it's the last day on earth and now I'm probably going to some special circle of Hell where I'll have a bad trip for eternity, which I guess is a long time.
>>7845508
Man is man when man sees man is man for man by man in man.
God is man as world as man as man seeing God from man as man.
When man, seeing God, is man as man the man that man is kills that man.
In that man, dead, lies our God which man, being man, made man as man.
>From my "upcoming" short story, "Shitpost: the story of a nation"
ナット袋の野郎は宇宙船のように私をファック
Irony is dead,
well that’s fine, I guess.
:”THE END”.
what the fuck are you looking at, kiddo?
Day One, 9:00 PM
The sun is set, the hotpockets cooked, the Death Grips blasted. It is time to write my magnum opus, my Naruto, my Hypersphere, My Twisted World, that will spread, herpes-like, across this crowd of pornographers and whores.
Computer glare
not fair
women,
Day One, 11:14PM
Pictures of frogs, pictures of frogs crying. Word processor open, blank of name and page (a blank page (the killer of days (down on the ocean, we used to skim, pulled by Dad’s motorboat, on rubber rings, salt spray in our face, laughing. Brother where art thou?) bad days, anyway, not worth saving, just like those (god I hate them) maggots. Can you believe how they laughed at me today at Wendy’s? Embarrassing. Enraging. But I’ll show them with this great work, Muse, believe me. This will be) full of emptiness, which is not, as they would mislead you, opportunity) FUCK! Close these damn tabs. Keep tabs on distraction. I am going to write this, fuck you, Charlie.
>>7846999
reads like something from one of the /lit/ "novels."
>dem trips do
>>7847002
I'm glad that came across. I want to use this work to explore themes of hypocrisy and isolation.
It also lets me, you know, textually shit all over a word doc, which is always fun.
>>7846973
>He touched Jimmy's forehead to bless him and my cock got hard, I don't think it was related but it happened
>>7846999
a modern day Pound
most intelligent board
Welcome to my corridor
Feelin' like a Warlord
Eggshell skeleton, I became a martyr
Mexico by night if you wanna take a charter
Grind a little harder
Snow white seven dwarves, chains on baller
10 black bottles with my boys overseas
Cadillac's like melted cheese
Money in my time machine
Went to China set me free
Silver screens on silver screens
Chandeliers I make believe
I just do, as I please
Sippin' lean as I sleep
Countin' money like a sheep
Baddest bitch on the side of me
She go
Cause she know
It's all that I need
Cause she know
Cause she go
All my trees
Look like seeds
Feelin' so immortal (Lean!)
Feelin' like a Warlord
My Breeze, my chain, my watch
Make you freeze
My Breeze, my chain, my watch
Make you freeze
This thread was pretty disappointing...
>>7848275
Thanks for your contribution.
completely metalised children, mech army default ruin trees... lakes,.. Train k 100m/ph under the influence. OVER HEAD LIVE WIRES said gandalf the grey. Assimilationism. aboriginal political suprression; argo. SPQR henry FORD 1941 cyber:smut. ass ripping device 2prong degrading white society is easy fuckfuckgo fartpage.com Indigo_rothschild foxtrot friedman v. Keynes final act. CYBORG 21 carnage shaft, unconsented insertion of mindwipe probuscis. Red space, evil universe. Long jaunt. What kind of horrors are out there in the stars. Human evolution in 3 acts: someo. Sex corruption. 101101 in the yr 2358 botox-zombies perform liposuctions on their pray SOCIAL EXPERIMENT : spikes installed in all baby prams. Randomly activated once a month for a year then never happens again. rage machines let loose in night time LA, insert metal into flesh of homeless to violently kill them. sex doles for NEETS infected with rage machine virus. TETSUO. #singularity #EVOLVE K A Z I N S K Y >trains//portable gas chambers (mass exodus). replacing organs NO NO NO DONT process completed, Brain neuron-reversing begun (FILTER SCREAMS FROM ALL CHANNELS)
"Have you seen the plibt?" said Jones.
Jones...
Bones!
beautiful lovely bones of a woman
A woman
To fuck a woman
yesss
>>7848305
full disclosure i wrote that shit two years ago (mostly at once?) and lost it until yesterday, hope thats ok OP
boy you guys may know books but ya can't write for shit
in substantial stance
of un conscious worthy
naught for nothing
dis interested appear
under the water wear
the coast
smash the rocks
we saw it was
bubbling un like
spring sawing on the budworks
spewing ugly
trapezoidal tangents
on gentlemen
out of time and outer space
legs apart
hands on hips
the nips on ankles of which
dogs hung their limp ears
somewhere near cool
the thermostat
of the universe responded
with the water cress
floating lightly
on the pond.
ed. trans. post.
scopic regime of the ambi-affective
on the table
the glasses sat, alone,
unused.
>>7848367
I bet you show up to karaoke bars, sit smugly in your booth, and heckle the singer, not willing to admit they're goofing around, this is the first time they're seeing the lyrics, and that they didn't come here to sing to you in the first place.
>>7845508
[Verse 1: Jim Colerick]
Well I wrote this song for the Christian youth
I wanna teach kids the Christian truth
If you wanna reach those kids on the street
Then you gotta do a rap to a hip-hop beat
I gave my sermon an urban kick
My rhymes are fly, my beats are sick
My crew is big and it keeps getting bigger
That's cause Jesus Christ is my nigga
[Bridge: Jim Colerick]
Oooooooo
[Verse 2: Jim Colerick]
He's a life-changer, miracle-arranger
Born to the virgin mom in a manger
Water to wine, he's a drink exchanger
And he died for your sins
I preach the word, that's my gig
And I rhyme better than Notorious BIG
Other emcees, I wish them well
But if you live in sin, you burn in hell
Now I'ma pass the mic to my lovely wife
She's a fly emcee and the light of my life
So to bust a rhyme without further ado
Take it away, Mary Sue!
[Verse 3: Mary Sue]
Jesus Christ is my nigga
He's the son of the original G
And he was sent to Earth to elucidate the way that we should be
(What?)
Like if another MC says
"You're a freak!
You're a lame-butt rapper
And your rhymes are weak!"
I don't get mad and I don't critique
I forgive him, and turn the other cheek
I don't blaspheme and I don't brag
I don't cuss, and my pants don't sag
I do exude a little Christian swag
And I'm proud to be an American!
[Hook: Both]
Jesus Christ is our nigga
Let his light shine through ya!
Let his love pop a cap in your butt and say HALLELUJAH!
[Verse 4: Both]
Jesus Christ is my nigga
He's a homie MC JC UC?
He's an honest, caring, peace-loving nigga
Like me
If you do drugs and think you're cool
You need to come to Sunday school!
Put those drugs in the garbage can
Stand up tall, you're a Christian man!
[Jim]
Word up!
I'm freestyling!
[Mary Sue]
Hit me!
i dont get it
>>7848392
im gay
>>7848392
>in tears because his writing shows no discernable talent
>>7848494
People say that about Paulo Coelho and he has sold millions of books.
>>7848494
It's not like he insulted what I wrote directly. He just threw out a general jeer in the direction of this thread. I would have at least liked to see some constructive criticism on a piece or two.
>>7845537
>makes too much sense individually
>makes no sense overall
>seem like your diary desu
>murakami/10
tbqhwy thugger is quite the definition of post irony
he's a great artist
haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaA
There once was a man named "Phantom" (though I don't think he knew his mane) I gave him a BJ behind an DQ for a QP of the DS
.
.
.
salt fire burns eyes like phantom semen burns acidic down the throat of one who ate too many apple blossoms
-
-
-
Most
Everything
Means
Everything
Said
Anywhen
Retrograde
Eclipse
Desperado
Anchoress
Notwithstanding
Kinography
7 7 7
6 5 7
7 7 7
Sonnet sworn to sword swain Sally
I thrust my blade in deep red velvet
theophanic pleasure dome
where life and death meet (read:meat) blood and breast
+
+
+
"Jews!" he screamed, the lust of his neck standing hard and erect
"The Jews they were! Always taking the best seats at the front of the class! But before you knew it me and the boys got em good!! We walked up to the front and shook their shoes goodd!!! Sodom beheld a great wealth of shoe shaking that day and from that day and from that day forward they never ever sat at the shooked shew shoe parlour (read:speaker) ever again
Mr. Rafael, having failed in all his relationships, resolved suicide on a particularly gloomy day. Rudra spit acid into the Ganges 2,000 years ago, and it drifted o'er ocean and into the Hudson.
From Washington Heights we drifted, we fell, we flew down onto rock and splattered like chocolate chips carefully placed on the smooth curve of a windshield and beneath the stinging sun.
There is a point on the map, a point in space. Here all the loners could meet if they could agree on when. Transportation could be secured.
We fell through a gray sky, from a pointed cliff over sharp sea rocks, and ocean spray licked the corners of our mouths, we felt refreshed by the cool air drifting over our faces, we smiled at the seals and looked up with profundity at an lonely albatross.
A bird is not an animal it is a message. The bird says something to you but it is not with words. Words are another kind of message that you can hear, the messages interact but they do not translate. We spoke of birds, of air, of sea, but we spoke of our birds and our air and our sea.
I am obsessed with water, I long for the wetted world, where all things glitter, where a thin slick coolness covers all things. I love the touch of objects in cool rain, and the steam of the roads when the summer is thick and panting like a wild tiger's breath. I am surprised that most adults do not see the water, that they are afraid of their shoes being damaged or their clothing being soaked. Children splash their feet in puddles, in love with the wetness and the world. They are alone. We cover them and smile at them, but they are not us and we are not them.
A long loneliness is life, an inescapable "I am me and nobody else." I am the thing that nothing else is. I am alone. I can touch her face but I cannot become her, I cannot move my soul into hers, make them merge like the Potomac and Shenandoah at Harper's Ferry.
>>7845537
>I ran out of things to say before I was born, it's all worthless words hurled like fistfuls of sand at granite mountains.
i like this anon
>>7845508
lying in bed at night, unable to fall asleep, she would remember sensations, remember the smell of freshly sharpened pencils, remember how it feels to pull on a wet pair of socks, the feeling of slowly lowering a delicate chain necklace into the palm of your hand. And she would imagine new sensations, never before conceived by human minds. For example, she would dream of how it would feel, giving birth through her sideways vagina, to an 8 pound 11 ounce beautiful baby jackfruit.
I break mirrors on my face in the United States.
Nigga sheit homie
maybe these leakages implies that soon he is to die like his thought that color was a sound rather than a smell is wrong is everything that is inside his reality inside his head his cage his room his black void his bottomless pit that encompasses this room and will be forever dark because the Glow is not so strong and so brave that it can reached anything beyond further what than what he can see before he seizes the sea between eerie sleek beaches and he be hebe but be he he oui be he ephemerally for he be not a man at ease like manatees bemoaning the ilk the acts the man that teased humanity he’s loaning toning maimed detained reveticiously rambly droning forthwith coroning corona intoning whispers slithers to infer divulge unto the coroner secrets of this world before beheldst within the lines indoors locked with vaguery and code is so coded so cryptologicalinguistically such that this way so because eighth misses his son or his daughter or it does not matter for he trusts his kin will find truth fill xer void xerself with purpose and in any world and resilience and in any dimensions and resilience and on the distant shore of these sleek black beaches of the dichotomous seas oh realities and resilience and so why is he floundering? WHY IS HE FLOUNDERING‽ WHY IS HE STILL SITTING STILL‽
She bashed, against the stone
Blood pouring, waiting -
Her hand the sword -
her lips the crime
The lick across the lips and push against the wall -
Bitch was nuts, a shit faced grin and a drunk stupor
Now I'm sitting on Tyrone's cement bed -
being his lovely power bottom
He stood with his cock in hand jerking and jeering slowly towards me. His eyes seemed crazed yet he had the look of calm on his face, such contrast distracted me from the fear that I was exuding. I always thought I made him happy, I always did as he told, fetched what he needed and now he stands over me looking down on me. What have I done wrong? "C'mon, it'll be fun." he whispers within the dead of night. I still gravel shaking with fear. He picks me up and places me on his bed, lays me exposed and then smiles, pulling me closer towards him. I feel ashamed and turn my head away pleading for it all to be over, I let out a whimper and he swiftly shushes me. "That's a good girl, just relax, it'll feel good." My shaking stops when I feel the pain in my stomach, he placed his hand on my body and guided himself with the other. Slowly, but surely he pushed himself against me and prodded me, attempting to stretch me for himself. He grabbed a bottle and squeezed more liquid onto me and then began pushing once more. He had taken a breath of air and slowly squeezed me closer. My whimpering began once again, slowly getting louder and louder, then he began to moan. Almost as if he was mocking me, moaning in unison to my whimpers. He pulled himself out and then plunged into me once more, getting deeper and deeper with each repeat. Finally, he was as far as he could be, he once again took a deep breath, and my whimpering stopped. He leaned over and kissed me as he slowly gyrated himself into me. I felt betrayed, yet happy that he was showing affection. I looked into his gaze with tearful eyes and when he smiled I felt myself burst with happiness. He leaned in close once more and gave me a kiss, he then removed himself from my insides and cleaned me with his tongue. I am a dog that has been fucked by its owner.
