ITT: We describe mundane and everyday things with ridiculous embellishment or exaggeration.
I'll start;
It was hot that day and I became more perched with each step on my journey. By pure serendipity I came upon a dispenser of canned refreshments. This automatic vendor required money to be operated, which I duly presented. The machine purred and wheezed when I inserted the coin and pressed the button, yet no beverage came out. “Come on you bastard,” I said. There was no reply. Unrelenting, I proceeded to hammer the side of the device with the open palm of my hand. All while eagerly eyeing the product tray expecting the receptacle of liquid which would deliver me from my thirst. When no such reward presented itself I became increasingly frantic and desperate, hurling insults at the byzantine contraption that stood before me. After a short while it dawned on me that my efforts were fruitless and that I would need outside assistance in retrieving the prize within or at the very least reclaim my lost funds.
I proceeded to walk inside the establishment nearby which by all likelihood owned and operated this piece of faulty machinery. Expecting justice to be done I entered within...
>>7711095
>practicing purple prose
but why
>>7711095
I'd rather point out the flaws in your paragraph.
>perched
>misuse of serendipity
>palm of my hand. All while etc. should be part of the same sentence
In addition to those errors, I suggest you google "comma."
>>7711112
Oops, I meant parched lol.
English is not my native language and I'm trying to improve. Sometimes I do these types of things to try and improve myself.
>>7711121
My best suggestion is for you to write in your native language, unless writing in English is for the sole purpose of becoming more proficient in English. If that's the case, godspeed.
>>7711121
Thats a good idea actually
I didnt even guess English wasn't your native language, I just assumed it was a typo
Youre very good at English anon, whats your native language?
>>7711133
British
>>7711127
I often write in my own native language, it's just that my language is only spoken by about 300'000 people and I can't help but feel somewhat creatively restricted when I write in it.
>>7711133
My native language is Icelandic.
>>7711154
thats fucking awesome
>tfw always wanted to learn Icelandic and Finnish
>tfw theyre some of the hardest European languages to learn
;_:
>>7711246
Why though? Basically no one speaks those languages.
It's not good.
You use words in a way that makes the reader want to punch your smug, dick-sucking face.
>>7711256
because theyre beautiful and I have an interest in the histories and literature of those countries
>>7711271
Write something better right now faggot.
The smart man slyly calmly deviously bravely mysteriously coolly precisely calculatively monsterly jeansly posturely hatly twentythreely adultly post-childly post-traumaly dryly smartly thinkingly coldly hotly hotterly colderly handsomely whitely sat at the keyboard and wrote, slyly.
>>7711285
Got good at "monsterly"
>>7711281
Bread crumbs on my bedsheets rub against my sweaty back when I sleep in the summer. The little grains have become stale, making them hard and small. At first I was disgusted, but my crippling laziness forced me to leave them there. And as a scorching July turned into a moist and muggy August, I found myself quite enjoying the sensation; tossing and turning became an almost erotic experience. And the growing musk of whore's sweat, dampening the sheets each night, fueled my habit and growing number of fungal infections.
>>7711315
edit: little grains *became*, I decided to switch tenses after I reread it and forgot to change that
>>7711316
Pretty good tbqh senpai
>>7711095
Can I just copy paste a random segment of My Twisted World?
>>7711095
A day such as this scorches the ground and forces strong men to falter; then, almost as if a message from the gods, a mechanical oasis of hope appeared before me. After close inspection I mustered whatever change I could bare and pushed forth with the cooling sense of hope. Right as the gentle breeze brushed my skin; a vicious gale ripped through me and bestowed a sense of wry. “Why have you forsaken me?” I asked foolishly expecting an answer. Fury took hold my hand and bludgeoned the side of the contraption, hoping to squeeze but a drop of liquid; but to my surprise it spewed absolutely nothing. Tempted and tempered, I became belligerent, screaming and cursing the machine; perhaps if my fist could not spill a drop perhaps my words would. Still not a single trickle of hope returned my being, I fell defeated and humiliated; for what purpose am I seething with anger at such a thing when it could instead push me forward. And as I approached the scene behind, I once again began boiling with impedance. Within these walls, lies my justice; and it shall taste bitter sweet.
The majestic messenger of the morning deftly makes its way through my closed eyelids, forcefully erecting my conscience. As I desperately try to take over control of my body and hide from the sun, it gives no mercy and continues to incessantly bombard my faint existence with the knowledge that the time to become a part of the machine called society has inevitably come again.
>>7711095
use happenstance in lieu of serendipity
>>7711095
Please don't write anything ever again.
>>7711651
If the word "compelling" has ever applied to a piece of writing, it's this one. I hope these are the opening lines of your magnum opus.
>>7711624
Better than OP's
reading this in Costanza's voice didn't help senpai
>>7711154
Can you tell Bjork I want to fuck her?
Faces at lunch, oh, yes, smirking, lordly, bored or weary – here and there a flash of passion, of dreams or loving seriousness; these signs I saw, notwithstanding the sweep of a fork like a Stuka dive-bomber, stabbing down into the cringing salads, carrying them up to the death of unseen teeth between dancing wrinkled cheeks; a breadstick rose in hand, approached the purple lips in a man’s dull gray face; an oval darkness opened and shut and the breadstick was half gone! A lady in a red blazer, her face alert, patient and professionally kind like a psychoanalyst’s, stuck her fork lovingly into a tomato, smiling across the table at another woman’s face; everything she did was gentle, and it was but habit for her to hurt the tomato as little as possible; nonetheless she did not see it. Nodding and shaking her head, she ate and ate, gazing sweetly into the other woman’s face. Finally, I saw one woman in sunglasses who studied her arugula as she bit it. It disappeared by jagged inches, while across the table, in her husband’s lap, the baby watched in dark-eyed astonishment. Her husband crammed an immense collage of sandwich components into his hairy cheeks. He snatched up pommes-frites and they vanished in toto. When the dessert cart came, the starched white shoulders of businessmen continued to flex and shine; their faces glazed at one another over emptiness, much happier now that they had eaten, unthinking of what they had wrought.
>>7711095
> perched
>>7714631
Nice
>>7714631
Pretty good.
