>You are alone in a empty room you only have 1 item .
tell me your story
I went into the room to play with my "item" ;)
>>7441076
its my decency, i have come here to bury her.
>>7441101
>decency
>female
hahaha :)
>>7441124
That is the joke.
Me make a doo doo swastika. All is triggered. [Curtain]
>>7441131
If a joke provoked laughter you don't need to explain it, do you?
>>7441076
Order dubs!
>>7441142
call was disconnected
please try again later
Cut cut cut. Ignore the pain, ignore the blood. I'll be out of here soon.
Here in the abandoned room, my scheme could be enacted in inconspicuous solitude. Here is where I would stimulate my prostate with the carrots destined in some small hours for the dinner plate. My family would incrementally consume small cross-sections of defilement with every bite. At last, I had attained my ultimate wish to become a sociopath.
The carrots went in without much trouble, apart from the initial irresolution of the sphincter. But soon, she was brought around and gorged upon the carrots like a good little siamese whore. The carrots brought with them an unwonted internal chill, having just been withdrawn from the fridge. Perhaps this was what gave the sphincter her reservations, whatever. At any rate in and out the carrots went, but not all at once, rather in shifts.Each carrot was jackhammered until its structure gave under the anal heat and intense motion. "Mom's gonna freak" I thought to myself as I heard the keys wriggling in the door (not unlike the carrots in my uncomfortably clenched asshole) much before their expected hour. The carrots had acted as a pneumatic expectorant and immediately a stream of brown petroleum slime followed a carrot as it dropped to the floor unceremoniously and refracted at an oblique angle to point menacingly at its abuser.
"Boy!" my dad said. "You'd better not be shoving the carrots up your ass like a faggot!". How did he know? Was it a lucky guess or had someone, an informant, been spying on me? Or was I reliving some experience I had once banished from my memory. "Oh shit" I said
>>7441214
how the fuck is this what came to mind? I can hardly breath
>>7441076
Paul got out his Macbook and began searching for images of polar bears on increasingly smaller pieces of ice. He lay flat on his stomach in the small room and tapped his fingers on the side of his Macbook. Paul thought of the way Erin's eyes had looked that night outside of the Barnes and Noble event in Milwaulkee, he got lost in deciding whether he had seen her tearing up when she wasn't laughing. If she had been, he hadn't cared at the time, and he was sure he didn't care now. Paul worried whether Erin still thought of that night as positive. He found one cartoon image of a sexy-looking polar bear with her butt in the air and furiously masturbated to the thought of its soft pink entryway protruding from the off-white fur. He recorded himself masturbating on his Macbook.
Paul could feel the Xanax, MDMA, and heroin wearing off. He rolled over in the empty room and placed his hands on his stomach, leaving a ten-hour video of ice flows off of Newfoundland in full screen on his Macbook. Paul thought of all of the Whole Foods products he should have chosen instead of his Macbook to bring into the empty room. He wished he had mango slices with him. After several hours, Paul produced two more Xanax from his butthole and shoved them down his throat.
>>7441251
I liked Taipai
It wasn't as good as Shoplifting from American Apparel, but I still liked it.
>>7441255
Good to hear.
I wasn't going to read SFAA because of that title, but after finishing Taipei, I want more.
>>7441214
this reads like Elliot Rodger wrote it
>>7441257
It's really short, easy to finish in one sitting.
>>7441263
i thought Tao Lin was objectively bad and a meme
>>7441270
>objectively
>>7441276
yeah, like Jane Austen
>>7441270
his books make me comfy
and make me calm re: personal relationships
>>7441255
>dad tells me American Apparel is going out of business and that the ceo was a predator
>They must be going out of business because of all the shoplifting Tao Lin did
> who is Tao Lin?
My soul when...
>>7441322
Every time I went to American Apparel, I didn't see one thing I wanted to buy, let alone steal. Not one thing.
The enormous black dildo sat suctioned to the floor. As I goatse'd my anus and sat down on the brilliant specimen of a sex toy, I forgot about all decency and reveled in the sensation of taking the most wonderful shit, even though it was entering, not exiting my anus.
Profound delights sparked behind my eyes. I could not imagine the largeness of someone who would have such a huge penis. Thus, my imagination was being expanded though the pleasure of pressure. Then this happened>>7432680...
I am sitting in a room different from the one you are in now. I am recording the sound of my speaking voice and I am going to play it back into the room again and again until the resonant frequencies of the room reinforce themselves so that any semblance of my speech, with perhaps the exception of rhythm, is destroyed. What you will hear, then, are the natural resonant frequencies of the room articulated by speech. I regard this activity not so much as a demonstration of a physical fact, but more as a way to smooth out any irregularities my speech might have.
>>7441354
you must be op
I awoke, seated in a chair, in an empty room with only one item, my bottle of lotion. I knew, looking upon this sturdy white container, what it was time for. With great haste and strength i snapped my belt buckle in two. Grabbing onto my zipper I pulled it down with so much force that it split my pants, and sent them flying across the room. My peepee was already erect. Snatching the lotion from the ground I ripped the bottle down the middle, dropping globs of white goo onto my distended willy. I grabbed it with both hands, squeezed and shook my pillar of pleasure. It hadn't been 30 seconds when I felt it building up. Thinking quickly I tipped the chair onto its back, to save my face, and my life, from the hot semen canon. BAM. My fun goop shot straight through the wall. I stood up, and looked down at my newly flaccid friend.
"You did good there buddy, you did good." I said, with tears in my eyes, as he shriveled up and fell to the ground.
"And you, my comrade." I said looking back at the lotion bottle. "I'm sorry."
I fell to my knees and screamed "WHY GOD, WHY!"
After crying for 12 days, living only on my tears and ding dong meat, I escaped through the wall hole.
It was that day I began my journey to avenge my lotion, and my diddly doo.
>>7441281
Could you tell me the name of the book about personal relationships please
I lay on my back, prone on a white floor that seems endless. An infinity made finite. I stare at the ceiling. It is white. The walls are white. Everything is white. My eyes burn and I squint loudly. I want to swear, but breaking this silence seems wrong. Uncivilized. Unlawful. I am so still that my skin begins to crawl. I twist my wrists, to make sure I am still captain of my ship. Lethargy makes them heavy.
The base of my full bottle of whiskey rotates along it's rim. A smooth grind that prompts me to glance down my body and stare at it. It's all I have. I'm naked otherwise. After hours of clawing humiliation, I've stopped caring. This room has turned from a strange place, to a familiar place to an intimate place. I haven't opened the whiskey yet.
I would like it. Want to taste it. I want to indulge in my desire to pretend that I am in any way a connoisseur. I want to smell it, sip at it daintily. Roll the taste around my mouth and then, after moments of letting my mind wander to imaginary Irish crags and castles I want to murmur to myself helpless adjectives.
I don't. I don't know how long I'll be here. I'm going to need it, once the walls start closing in. Foresight, foresight, foresight. That's why I'm not an idiot.
i sat on the purple cock
>>7441076
BAE B SHUZE NVR WRN (subscribe for more spilled ink (^: )
There was a lot of posturing to get me into the room. A flurry of motion and a hurried shuffle of paper work and the earnest pushing of a secretary named Carol, is what landed me in this room. The absurd hands of fate placed on my person but one item, a ballpoint pen, half of the ink depleted.
Everything was sterile and steel. It was the kind of room that never got warm and everything was permanently cool to the touch. I spent the first few hours pacing erratically, devising an escape method. No windows, no doors I could open from the inside. This was a cell of some darker inspiration. The pen in my hand, I slumped against the corner wall wondering if I could use this utensil to puncture a hole in my throat. It didn't seem sharp enough to break skin. Maybe if I broke the plastic and fashioned a small shiv of some kind?
During all of this I worked the pen between my fingers in spinning grace. I thought nothing of it at first. It was a nervous habit of mine to fiddle with things. Having no possible- out, I can't say I was nervous through this all. Nervousness was on the other side of the door waiting for me to come out. Here I was a slate, a formless child in the steel-toned fluorescent bathed womb of modern mans troubled psyche. In here, I could be neither seen nor heard. My clothes had no style or pattern so I disrobed and sat naked, watching my toes curl. I spoke loudly and openly about myself and about others- all the people I hated. My boss, the kid at the book store, the president, myself. What did it matter? Nobody would hear me. I laughed sometimes, at stupid and absurd jokes, things I never would have found funny before. One about a duck and two chickens or something. I don't remember it. What good is it to remember these things but instead to feel them for what they are. I spin the pen in my hand as I rheumatically bang my head on the walls. It's not frustrated banging, it's something to do, some noise to make and some pressure to feel at the back of my skull. I wasn't crazy. I knew what crazy was and I was not that. Crazy was a failed connection with society, crazy were the burnt little mistakes that God still tries to serve to people. People not I, people not I. I was not people, I could not be crazy, I had failed no imperial measurement of sanity, for I had none to inflict upon everyone else. In my tomb I was God. Worlds swirled in the palm of my hands and primordial galactic fire beamed in my eyes. A pen spun in my hand keeping in rhythm with the galactic rotations of my newly created world. A world where I made sense, one that existed outside the confines of what lay beyond the door. Beyond the door, I had no concern over. It was dead, falling away into the swirling abyss and swallowed whole like a small fish into the mouth of some fathomless monster.
And then the door opened.
Too try hard?
>>7441076
>look item
"Where am I?"
"Get me out of here! I'm not playing your fucking sick game!"
No matter the amount of screaming and banging nothing changed within the room nor the person inside. Anxiety, anger, and fear all entwined within the mind of that figure. Frantically searching for a way out, they failed to even see the key dangling from the ceiling, like an angler fish desperately searching for light. Broken psyche left fluttering in a box. Anguish had set into that mind causing the prison to laugh at the sorry sight, and there it was found. A way out, twas not a hole nor a crack, but a gun. Springing up to snatch it a finger slipped into that crevice and pulled the bow letting off a bang. Despair crept upon the soul as reality set in. It was a gun with only one bullet, and the chance for escape had already passed. Back to square one, but with a different tone.
