Write something in the style of an author
Guess who others are emulating
it cant be described hehe
I like it in the derrière.
(Hint: it starts with O and ends with P)
>>7866508
HP lovecraft ofc
>>7866497
I mixed wine and sugar in a purse without ruining the purse.
>>7866508
A E O N S
E
O
N
S
I went on lit and I posted on lit and I didn't get any you's and I sat there and I saw everyone elses posts and I lol'd and I shotgunned myself.
Ye, he spat and rode on with tortillas flying in the wind after them like a corncob pipe exploded from a redened sun drenched sky. savages.
>>7866585
Anon anonsky anonivitch
>>7866605
Kek, more similar than you would imagine.
She was beautiful, perhaps too much for me. Her infinite, eternal glow blinded me, and I could only stare at her in silence, praising her as a goddess; a supreme being. My penis shriveled into nonexistence, futile in front of the almighty vagina.
>cuck
A screaming comes across the porch, from the stairhead, Tommy bearing a bowl of lather on which a pinecone and a toy rocket lay crossed—he sits on the steps surrounded by heads and bodies of characters never to be created, Wallace having quit and thrown himself upon his belt, ha-ha o my, Tommy thinx, don't throw rocks at the thrown, ha-ha.
>>7866851
this image creeps me out. something about feels lacking, missing, incomplete-- ill-formed, and almost grotesque, after a while.
>>7866889
I feel the same way about it
the girl on the right looks like a man
“unable to move in a denn’ys parking lot”
Denny’s parking lot. Evening. A DUMPSTER.
[center stage, Lord Self. On the ground, prostrate.]: Help, somebody! [Rocking back and forth] I’m unable to move in a Denny’s parking lot!
[From stage right: Rodrigo Patricio 20% off the Paper Towel Distributor]
Lord Self: Excuse me, sir! Do you have a minute?
Rodrigo: I do not. I have come to replace the paper towels in the Denny’s bathroom.
Lord Self: I can’t move! If you’d just help me up…..
Rodrigo: What’s wrong? You can’t do it yourself?
Lord Self: Oh, I might move - if I could stop thinking!
Rodrigo: [reflectively] What would you be then?
Lord Self: A clump of res extensa.
Rodrigo: Then you can prefer not to think.
Lord Self: Preferably, I prefer not to prefer anything, if I can help it.
Rodrigo: You've got your work cut out for you then.
Lord Self: Listen - Will you do me a favor?
Rodrigo: What's that?
Lord Self: If I could have one last Denny's plate, I might die in peace.
Rodrigo: What's wrong, are you sick?
Lord Self: No, just placid. Affectless, my color is blanch. I don't look it, but I'm a yogi.
[A plate is thrown from stage left]
Lord Self: Thank God, we're being invaded!
Rodrigo: By whom?
Lord Self: Steve!
Rodrigo: Who's Steve?
Lord Self: God!
Rodrigo: What?
Lord Self: He prepares the eggs!
Rodrigo: Why?
Lord Self: Quickly - hide behind that dumpster!
[Rodrigo hides. Two black figures in SWAT gear storm on stage, commence to beat the Self savagely]
Lord Self: Have mercy on the Self! Help, somebody! I'm unable to move in a Denny's parking lot!
[Guards kill the Self. Exeunt.]
Curtain.
And but so like then Tommy demaps himself right there on the floor of the McDonalds and Gorhouchini goes screaming to the window spinning like some annular burst of fragmented light and all of the employees like call the BPD and all of them come and realize that he's high on methadone and oxycontin and Bob Hope and who knows what else and he's raving about metempsychosis and dipping wintergreen and squeezing a tennis ball and making a pretentious film and the fans outside catapulting the garbage northward and there's just something very sad and banal about that.
Slowly and reluctantly, Anon moved himself to the shed(1) to fetch the lawn mower. He mused at the double entendre of what he was about to cut. The first a chore, the second something he desperately wanted to do, skiving off to his habitual secret spot to get high. After a few pulls of the starter rope(2), the mower sputtered to life. The lawn spread before him in verdant expanse as he pondered the myriad activities he would rather be doing right now, and what Anonette(3) might be doing right now. As he (4)
(1) The shed being a separate space from the rest of the house, as if to compartmentalize the cozy abode from the serious tools contained within the shed.
(2) I'm drunk and dont know the term for this
(3) A girl he had been pining after for far too long
(4) my roommate jsut came back and now Im too embarrassed to be wiriting in the style of someone on a mesopotamian claymaytion board so im stopping here
>>7866922
booo
>>7866844
John Green?
There I was - six o'clock and it's getting darker by the minute. This corner's get tight and I gotta' scram. No one said it'd be easy - but hey: ya' gotta' do what ya gotta' sometimes.
>>7866844
literally my diarytbqhwymf
>>7866497
La pesanteur et la grâce ?... Je n'y vois que des garces et un pesant, tous agglutinés autour de quelques ragots, comme des hyènes cernant une proie... Que c'est dégueulasse !... Que c'est lourd... Le pauvre gaillard. cocu de son état, devait subir les rires des bonnes dames autours de lui, en veillant à échapper quelques rictus, histoire de pas s'exclure tout de suite. Il devait avaler les médisances, les jugements, les rumeurs... Sa femme, elle causait, sans trop de honte, d'autres hommes.
Unseasonable snow whitewashed Hypanthia Commons's driveway that morning in December 2057. Nothing but a head in a floating tank attached to a bong, she read emails beamed into her eyes by a levitating cell phone she had never held.
So haha the cuck comesalong thinkings about the muscular ladies in the magazines he darent by, ginormous cuckrection pleating his pants would cause quite a disturbance.
>>7866508
Lovecraft
>>7866557
Bukowski?
>>7866585
>>7866605
McCarthy
>>7866844
John Green
>>7866851
Meme trilogy
>>7866920
Beckett?
>>7866927
>>7866922
DFW
>>7867789
No idea
>>7867815
Céline
>>7867821
Pynchon? DFW?
I'm no good at this, I only got the very obvious. Not that well read either. I'm very bored and my rotten tooth hurts too b bad to read.
There was a man beloved by all, quite a curious specimen. I speak not only of his youthful looks, wide and gentle eyes, artless manner, and mild rosacea. I speak also of his unparalleled kindness, innocence, and faith in man, even when surrounded by (or, often, subjected to) debauchery so vile I am not permitted to describe it. Indeed even if demons were to bodily ravage him in all their savage ways, his shining soul would remain entirely untouched, though he might be given to tears.
>>7867848
(cont.)
Then there was the wolflike doubter he had to live with, steeped in deathless sin and wracked with mortal guilt. His dilemmata were numerous, and though he studied philosophy at a prestigious university, he preferred to confront his roommate with them rather than his fellow students or professors. He was brilliant, tall, and considered quite attractive, though he claimed no interest in carnal matters.
They had been anally and vaginally raped, the man dreamt, he dreamt of an ocean, an ocean of blood, or was it blood, he didnt know, he was there with his father, his father exclaimed and pointed, the man turned around and looked into the distance, the ocean of notblood hid in its centre a monster of giant proportions, it grew and diminshed or neither and then it slipped down under the surface, the film of teh blood closed around it, the man woke, he was sitting in his cop car with his buddy, anally and vaginally raped, he mulled it over, pretty nasty way to go, anyway she was a damn prostitute so what did he care, he looked over at the reddened sky in sunset over the desert, it blasted the sky a deep scarlet, almost like an ocean of blood, an ocean of blood, an ocean of rape, a sky of rape and blood, and a heavy heart within one soulless chest.
>>7867867
JK Rowling?
Dude Weed LMAO!
>>7866844
Nabocuck
>>7866497
Austin was writing something, not in a I want to write something kind of way but in a Oh well I might as well write something kind of way.
He was supposed to be texting with Katie, but when she said "Hi." all he could think of was
"Why just 'Hi' is it some kind of metaphysical joke about the meaningless of existence?"
So he just smiled awkwardly at his phone's screen and waited for her to send him another text.
He quickly poured himself a shot of tequila, and went back to writing, the hours passing while he awaited his next stimulating experience.
The blue serendipitous berry dazzled and delighted every cell on my eager tongue causing my vernacular to transport and reach heights of olde. I humbly muttered to my inmost reaches, yes this delectable blue berry is mine, for me.
So let's just say Mike's ass wasn't normal when the cucufrends were done with it. A truculent green ooze dripped down his inner legs, sizzling as it burnt away his flushed pink skin, cock still standing and jerking, globs of infected plasm hitting the toilet stall wall like newspapers on a desk.
"He uh alive Jim?" ask Colonel Fuckhazard, purely as a matter of course you understand, one of those cop notepads in a grizzly brown hand.
"Nah he's gone," said Jim, 2 foot 5, 10 gallon hat. "Second this week."
"Frig," he said for he did not swear despite his name his old lady chose.
>>7866844
Nabokov
the the and the and filled me up and in emptiness we're all empty but as you get filled up as the as fills you up with emptiness you're empty and we understand that as the as as and as i don't understand emptiness.
>>7867867
Seems kinda like ligotti but I'm an edgelord and I actually want to know who you're imitating.
>>7868103
Joyce
I absently watched the rabbits run in their pen, half-listening to the Thelonious Monk Trio's rendition of Honeysuckle Rose playing in the background. Isn't that a strange choice for a downtown pet shop? I glanced up at the man behind the counter, who was bearded with white hair and wore thick plastic glasses. He seemed to be smiling, but I wasn't able to tell at this distance. I glanced back at the rabbits and wondered what I'd name them, if I did in fact buy any. Perhaps after protagonists of favored stories from the 1950s: Bailey, Yuri, Sal, Fred, Henderson, Marlowe. Without my noticing it, the song had changed to a piano piece I didn't recognize. It was jazz, and sounded relaxed and unforced, if a little sad. I glanced back at the man and started as I realized he had been gazing at me the whole time.
>>7868128
it started off as bolano but i got bit carried away
>>7868131
not bad.
>>7866585
obviously hemingway
>>7866920
Shakespeare?
>>7868169
Bukovski
>>7866920
Stoppard.
>>7868169
Cuckakami
Muracucki
etc
And but so
He died.
As he did he woke up finding it all a dream of his maligned imagination sprouting up from twines spiraling forth from his mind.
When they finally began to have sex it had just turned from day to night. He leaned forward into her over and over until he came and rolled over and she laid there sweating and unsatisfied. She got up out of the bed and went to the bathroom and took a shower while he turned on the television. She came back into the room.
What was that?
What was what.
You call that getting fucked.
Maybe.
I didn't like it.
Then you got fucked.
>>7866497
I really want a hug today
But there’s no one to hug me
My own arms aren’t long enough
It’s really starting to bug me
There are no hug-sellers
To sell special hugs to me.
There’s no free-hug-givers
From whom I can hug-recieve
Not even a hug-haver
With a hug that I could /thieve/
>>7868085
I'm disappointing lit, none y'all even tried to read his book.
Gregory "Captain" Riazane sits in mounting confusion as Rossini's La Boutique fantasque buzzes through the mess hall loudspeakers, the twirling smoke of the men's cigars hitting each cabriole in perfect rhythm with the crackling crescendo.
"So are we clear, or is the picture still developing, Captain?" asks Otto before deeply inhaling his own rather pungent Canary Island cigar. He leans backward and exhales slowly, his uniform's black buttons squirming against his rotund paunch, the released smoke joining the thickening stratocumulus cloud above.
"Developed, printed, and submitted for a Pulitzer," lies the Cap. Here you can never be too sure what information is requisite for a government agent, and what is forbidden to acknowledge--expected to fester deep down in the basements of officer minds, buried beneath loose papers, expired documents, and government seals, wilting from disuse and feigned ignorance, until one day the entire trashpile gets rudely kicked to the dumpster by a single paranoid superior... Better to play smart when the game gets dangerous, and dumb only when the going is soft.
>>7871196
Lovecraft
>>7868169
muracuckme
>>7866909
Yeah it's absurdly hot
Lol Red Socks and Maine
I click on the blue lettered link "4chan - /lit/" on my Samsung GH8750 16" monitor and I feel a slight flick of nervousness, but I am relieved when on the first page I look at a DFW thread. Without hesitation I enter the thread as David's face on the image of original poster reflects over my Bluebay thin frame glasses. Heavy prescription, only for the true intellectuals such as myself.
I make a post containing Bloom's copypasta to invoke some replies and as I wait for them to come I take a fast leak in one of my empty Mountain Dew bottles laying under my desk. As I tighten the lid on the bottle I take a quick glance over the screen.
Not a single (You) to be seen.
A fiery wrath takes over me and as I am about to unleash tremendous quantities of shitposts my mother barges into my room.
"Anon I told you to come down for dinner!" she yells.
"And, oh my god, what is this smell?! Are t-those bottles filled with...? With piss?"
I look up at her in all my anger, my K-On! limited edition wrist watch shifting it's position over my wrist.
"Mother, how many times have I told you not to enter my room without knocking!" - I yell and feel a greasy sweat coming over me.
"Anon this is it. I'm calling your father and we're getting you a job! You can't go on like this anymore, why do you even do this do yourself?" - my annoying mother moans.
I see there's no talking her out of this. Quickly I grab my Samsung S4 android smartphone, Iphones are for normies ofcourse, and make a run for it.
"Where do you think you're going mister? I'm not done with you!" - she exclaims.
I look at her, petrified and mumble out - "I umm, have to... return some manga."
>>7871845
>this entire post
>>7871845
Bret Easton Ellis, that one was easy
>>7871845
>my K-On! limited edition wrist watch shifting it's position over my wrist.
just imagining this make me tear up
>>7866920
this is some next level post-modern Shakespeare rehash,
shout out to my boy Roderigo, fav character in othello
>>7867796
>tbqhwymf
tfw you know what that means
the lack of an image is itself representative of the bottomless despair i suffer
>>7871845
top kek, best ITT
THE NIGGER AND THE CAT AND THE DOG AND THE MAN WENT TO THE BARN AND THE FARM AND THE RANCH AND THE PLACE WITH ANIMALS
NIGGER SAYS THE MAN
WHAT ASKED THE NIGGER
NIGGER SAYS MAN.
MEOW PONDERED THE CAT.
THE MAN AND HIS HANDS AND HIS FEET AND HIS EYES MURDERED THE NIGGER. HE GRABBED HIS KNIFE AND HIS GUN AND TIPPED HIS COWBOY HAT AS HE STUCK THE KNIFE INTO THE NIGGERS EYES AND TWISTED IT TWIRLING THE BRAIN INSIDE. HE THEN SHOT THE NIGGER IN THE HEAD AND THE ARM AND THE LEG AND THE CHEST. THE END
"So man has eyes?"
"Yes."
"And vision is the virtue of the eye?"
"Absolutely."
"Very good, anon! Something just occurred to me: are we not sailors?"
"I'm not sure what you mean."
"Nothing as abstract as you seem to think. Sailors sail uncharted waters, or do they not? Keep in mind, I do not to intend to charm you any further:
Be sad no longer, unhappy man, don’t waste your life in pining: I am ready and willing to send you on your way.
I think that this is well said."
"By your reasoning, anyway."
"Now, to return to the argument, answer my queries just as I put them to you-- simply, without the affected speech of a poet, and I will send you on your way."
"Lead on."
"Earlier when I mentioned that sailors sail uncharted waters, what I meant is that our pursuit is really like a kind of treasure hunt."
"How so?"
"Just as a sailor proceeds with a hunch and ensures that he checks himself at every turn, so too do we pursue the argument."
"By god, I'm not sure that anybody could disagree with that."
"And if they did, we would point them in the right direction. Now, be brave, anon, for we are about to embark on troubled waters."
"What do you mean?"
"What? Is it not the virtue of a ship that it sails?"
"Yes."
"And, tossing an turning, is it not this love of virtue that keeps the sailor sailing?"
"Without a doubt."
"Virtue, then, is that which allows for smooth sailing despite trepidation, whatever the circumstances may be."
"True, and very well said."
Jack lie in day three withdrawal shiver sick cook up last hit strain through
cotton into eyedropper while Jill watch with unblinking insect eyes drawn to
his slow moves by algebra of need. He inspect his arm, shoot up in the
same old spot and his eyes light up like Christmas. "Gotta get the fix in,"
he say to Jill, who nod once and get the bucket. They make it up the Hill to
wait for the man. Jack on the nod, asleep standing up like a horse except he
being without the requisite four legs fall ass over and fetch up against a
rock at the bottom. Didn't feel a thing. Jill stare down at him and mutter
"Goddamn junky. Got no class to him."
Once again, I return to this mayan floating wood sculpture online board to graze my pasture of joy and fury. O ! Fiery winds of adolescence, thou maketh my heart sing ! Sometimes I too, sit near an old oak tree to sing of my passions long gone. Where are the times when I sat by the chimney, gazing into the distance, whispering to myself "idol mio" and "benedetti" while my slippers were catching fire ? Will I ever see them again ? It would seem Erato left me to flourish younger blonde heads, and the kisses I now receive can only come from Melpomene.
I went to the balcony and sat there for a while. Then I made a sandwich and ate it on the balcony. afterwards I went to the beach and swam for a while and thought about what I would do next.
>>7875296
Raymond Chandler?
Batman symbolizes the impact of the absence of ideology in modern society. The fact that he, as a hero, is condamned to be good isn't a form of innocent guilt, but represtents the prison of an individualistic society.
>>7875296
Either Hemingway or Enid Blyton.
>>7875229
Burroughs
When he opened the door to discover that the girl he had chatted with online was his favourite student Marianne, Jean-Michel's cock hardened. Not out of lust for the young blonde, but out of his shamefull love for France.
A shamefull love, that was the only correct attitude one could hold towards the republic, society had told him, and in his daily life as a successful writer/professor/sex god he felt that the only way he could profess this perverted love was by banging young blonde girls named Marianne. But before today it never felt truly wrong.
As his middle age body thrusted back and forth into the petite teenage girl, Jean-Michel couldn't help but think about the failure of the socialist dreams his mom and dad had adhered to. The generation of '68 surely fought for something? "Free Love", "Peace", the worn out slogans rushed by Jean-Michel's head as his sperm rushed in the girl's now worn out asshole."Equality may be a right, but no power on earth can convert it into fact." Balzac was right, and his mom and dad had tried to do the impossible, but a part of him still resented the current state affairs. The independent woman had turned into two failures: they failed as men on the workplace and as women between the sheets and now Jean-Michel could do nothing but listen to Marianne's soft groan as a cry for help from a confused society.
Nothing happened. Teres waited, then grumpily stretched his legs, looking around the famous study. When would Doctor Ratio appear?
>>7875296
Camus. Pretty good
>>7875431
Houellebecq?
>>7874905
Socratic dialogue
i can do what i want hehe >:3
48. Suppose someone said, "All signposts serve to point at something." So, a signpost serves to modify something-- And what is modified by a signpost, or a house-number? Is it the property of being designated insofar as something is"being pointed at" or "being numbered"?
49. We could say: the signpost in (48) is not modifying some thing, it is modifying itself. But, if something modifies itself, does it not also modify our understanding of it, and thus modify us? Or perhaps it modifies nothing at all.
He realized that somehow he was the other and that he and the other were every human who ever lived.
>>7876019
Go to bed, Ludwig.
>>7875983
Max Purrner?
>>7867978
DFW, obviously.
>>7868115
Oh, my. I want to know what this is.
>>7871297
>I want to know this one too.
>>7876056
Boarhays
>>7875431
Où est le bec
>>7871845
A combination of BEE and Toole
>>7875310
*sniffs*
>>7876073
(Y)
The title of this light-hearted and most amusing narrative is 'A Marine encrustation of the sub class serapedia, which, to its own misfortune, was quite repugnant. In long past arcadia, days of old, their existed a Marine encrustation of the sub class serapedia, which, to its own misfortune, was quite repugnant. This creature was indeed, so horribly repulsive, sickening and grotesque, that alas, the fate that have befallen those unfortunate enough to gaze upon its nightmarishly gastric visage, was an agonizing length of torment and demise. And that my friend, was the conclusion of this cautionary tale.
>>7875318
yeah, it wasn't hard. i should have done a cut-up of it.
I like her. I know its sounds phony, but I like her. I really do.
>>7876113
it was supposed to be burroughs, but i guess the style isn't that similar
The last man to be officially hanged in the States was ole Billy Bailey. Twenty-fifth of January, one - nine - nine - six.
Officially.
Now, it's against the law for a civilian to even tie a noose. But we do it every day. We go to work with them around our necks. We tighten them around our throats to impress our bosses. We buy them in mauve. We buy them in cornflower blue. We save up and buy nooses made of silk, made of satin. In the summer we wear our funny nooses. Our Tweety Bird nooses. Our Fred Flintstones. Our Donald fucking Ducks.
The 21st century Hangman's Noose is a tie.
The 21st century execution are our lives.
>>7876129
Pynchon
>>7868115
This is really good
Erase una vez un meme superlativo.
>>7868115
stephen king
