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You are currently reading a thread in /lit/ - Literature
You are currently reading a thread in /lit/ - Literature
Write how would you introduce yourself as a character in a story
>>8279783
>and but so then the handsomest motherfucker in the world walked in and every panty dropped as he recited The Iliad from memory in its original Greek
Dear friend now in the dusty clockless hours of the town when the streets lie black and steaming in the wake of the watertrucks and now when the drunk and the homeless have washed up in the lee of walls in alleys or abandoned lots and cats go forth highshouldered and lean in the grim perimeters about, now in these sootblacked brick or cobbled corridors where lightwire shadows make a gothic harp of cellar doors no soul shall walk save you.
>>8279783
He stood there, ejaculating nonchalantly as the train passed him by.
>>8279783
The strong, haunting aroma of cheetos and axe body spray penetrated the air, and the stench was so fierce it hung heavily in a nauseating fog. The echoing footfalls of steel toed boots. A sweat soaked shirt proclaiming the insignia of some heavy metal band long since forgotten. A wool fedora sat firmly on his fat, balding head. The ends of his leather overcoat hung awkwardly over his large frame.
five feet tall, rail thin except for his fat gut and jowls, head of a horse, pubic beard, a cattle rancher's moustache, and a mop for hair. he looks like an autistic homeless person, his movements are jerky and rigid and way-too-self-conscious, and his walk is like a series of tortured ejaculations.
the record player skips off
everyone goes silent
the bar door opens
someone walks in
but who
a girl farts
the wind blows
I smile
welcome to the bud Weiser party party lounge
A lanky looking young man dressed for January( in July) loped on by, gazing at flowers, building, the sky, at anything and everything that would not return the look.
The man of hesitation, he is. His breath shallow, his mind even more. He feared for his life as he made an anonymous comment, even when there were no consequences other than the words of other anonymous posters. His shallow mind was home to words that seemed only scare him, yet he managed bravery at the thought of recognition and approval.
He hit post.
His shirt, a spit-take of bleach, chicken crumbs and fingerholes, is puking over his belt-unbuckle and down the face of his khakis. He stands as if he is being crushed and his eyes, the color of necrosis, are shaking.
>>8279856
>loped
I honestly got the image of some autistic kid prancing around town.
Rather disappointing, innit?
I am seated in an office, surrounded by heads and bodies. My posture is consciously congruent to the shape of my hard chair. This is a cold room in Memeversity Administration, wood-walled, Remington-hung, double-windowed against the July heat, insulated from Administrative sounds by the reception area outside, at which Uncle Fourchin, Mrs. deLevingne and I were lately received.
I am in here.
The homeless-looking Jew, smelling faintly of pine, swilled his beer in the corner.
In between the ocean of mobiles, sits a man; scruffy beard and a twisted half-smile - as though in the climax of a painful bowel movement. He's not on his phone, but instead looking solemnly at the flowers nearby, but I knew he was looking at my tits. Fucking pervert.
A large group of people, where he wasn't present.
>>8279783
One million years ago I slathered a wad of my snot across the stars, which I can't really place in the narrative of things generally, but which I'm pretty sure came before me. Anyway, after that happened, my snot started to crystalize into these little orbs that I named planets and one of them could sustain life, so I crouched over it and shat out a big oozing turd full of bacteria. These bacteria ultimately became the sentient beings that gave birth to you dear reader. Me and the other Ascended Masters constantly make fun of your plight and how you think any religion or scientific thesis you've made up in any way shape or form even comes close to how your stupid fucking universe was created. But there's more to my story than all of that, so bear with me, I'm a little drunk.
The man makes his entrance and instantly, without effort, lubricates all vaginas
I woman of the age some were between 25-35, entered the seen. Her long curly dark blond hair looked like it had just had a squirrel attempt to make a nest in it. Her large frame only maid the curves of her breasts, bottom, and small belly more apparent in the loose Black linen shift she was wearing. Her make-up less face looked has though she were wearing purple eye shadow under her bookish square glasses and lips that had been kissed till they were swollen and almost red. Has she glanced around she smirked, "Lets have fun boys,"
>>8279953
Oh look Gods gift to woman showed up :-D
He walks out of supermarket restroom, his bathroom pole of inaccessibly, which was fully misted and left for him as usual, dabbing his hands in his pockets. There is a backlog of one person, one girl, waiting for him to be done. He stops as she had stepped in his path. She scuttles her eyebrows at him. She assumes the bathroom, closes the door, he waits for her long enough to wonder if she's hiding, and then leaves. Is willing isolated instinctive or socialized, he wondered, and dream stepped, waiting for her to come around again.
>>8279783
That's when I heard it, the ringing of the great bell in the town center. The entire town knew what it ment, and we all rushed to get a glimpse of what was to come. As I neared his home, I could just make out the figure of a man. He was humble, white, and from what I was told, very intelligent. It was odd seeing such a man with pale skin in the current year, as we all were dark skinned. He stood at a strong five feet 8 inches, some of the shorter residents referred to him as their king. My father in jest called him a manlet once, that was the last time I saw him. Following the man were three of his wife's sons, and the bull of the town. The white man, or cumskin as he was known, looked exhausted. It was to be expected because the bell signified that that bull was prepared, and indeed he was. A mighty 16 inch cock, nearly 9 inches in diamenter. Oh what a sight to be seen! As his sons began chanting and making grunting noises like apes, their mother opened the door to their shed and the bull entered. What happened next is why I am telling this story today, as it seemed the cumskin thought it be time he should never prep another bull again...
>>8279957
>seen
*record scratch*
*freeze frame*
"Yup, that's me"
"I bet you're wondering how I got in such a crazy situation. Well, to explain that we'll have to start at the very beginning"
*whole story flashes by in reverse*
>>8279967
I plead the fifth
>>8280012
I miss this meme already. Why /tv/ got so unbearable these days?
>>8280026
meme overdose that they forgot to separate discussion from memes
>>8280001
yep I suck at spelling.
It was cold, dead earth that the hero's party stepped over; and beneath it, lying still and lifeless, was Him, never to be seen again or remembered as more than a backdrop.
Her face bore the exquisite features of a roman marble bust; the head attached to the body of an ox. Her feet were those of a prepubescent russian gymnast.
He walked into the room, a certain air about him. It wasn't so much that he was self-absorbed, rather he had faded from the presence of others. Sure, he was in the same room as them, and indeed he acknowledged them in a cordial manner whenever it behooved him, but he was as always, lost in his thoughts, no more than a specter among the drones. He had developed a certain skill. Whereas many people are capable of tuning the noise of others out, he had developed the keen and rather useful ability to tune them out of his personal reality altogether. They were there, and so was he, but he was naught but a ghost, and they naught but a shadow. Like fundamental particles they interacted, entwining for but a moment to share their charge, but it was nothing more than a formality.
"Nice weather we're having." He said.
>>8280154
m'weather
My name is Ishmael.
He strolled into the room, his entrance not interesting enough to drew much attention. When he saw nobody he knew well enough to approach he walked over to a wall, leaned against it, and started playing games on his phone after pretending to text. It was rather like watching a background character in a movie. Just a moving bit of wallpaper.
He slanted into the room so his back was parallel with the 2 on the old analog clock—kept for merely aesthetic pleasure of course. He stood under the clock, a wry smile on his face as if he knew your secrets and was ready to keep them. for a few days, at least
Imagine mediocrity made into a person, and you'd have a fairly accurate image of the individual that had just entered the room.
He came through the doorway in a sweaty crabwalk of flesh and must, balls deep in an big-tittied asian bitch that was bent over walking on her hands and feet. A second woman, this one a milf with a massive ass, was crouched behind him holding what appeared to be a miniature pillow beneath his balls, as if it were wedding ring full of seed. Perspiration glistened on his thirty-four pack of abs and his golden hair shined in the spotlight. The six-legged sextaur rotated slowly toward the crowd seated before the stage. He paused for a moment, then gave a final pump, blowing a load of pure liquid gold with flecks of diamond in it onto the back of the big tittied asian. The crowd erupted, welcoming the midas-stroke with a standing ovation accompanied by pleads for an encore. Women throughout the crowd simultaneously orgasmed, squirting uncontrollably and fainting while men cried tears of disbelief, wonder, and awe. Jesus Christ himself repelled onto the stage from a helicopter above a skylight in the ceiling, handing him a Nobel Prize in Being A Fucking Genius and Having a Massive Cock.
There he was, in the middle of the street, servicing two erect penises at the same time. "It's okay, we all said no homo", he beckons when he sees me walking down the sidewalk.
Call me, shemale!
>>8279783
He was a soft cunt, but he dressed like he thought he was someone. Stone roses and oasis clearly his inspiration in terms of fashion. Straight from the football terraces, if he ever left the house that is. His hair like some mod from.that movie based on the who album, nose squint, probably broken in his youth before reclusive behaviours had taken over. Somewhat book smart, but also dim witted in a not so cute way.
The details of my life are quite inconsequential... very well, where do I begin? My father was a relentlessly self-improving boulangerie owner from Belgium with low grade narcolepsy and a penchant for buggery. My mother was a fifteen year old French prostitute named Chloe with webbed feet. My father would womanize, he would drink. He would make outrageous claims like he invented the question mark. Sometimes he would accuse chestnuts of being lazy. The sort of general malaise that only the genius possess and the insane lament. My childhood was typical. Summers in Rangoon, luge lessons. In the spring we'd make meat helmets. When I was insolent I was placed in a burlap bag and beaten with reeds- pretty standard really. At the age of twelve I received my first scribe. At the age of fourteen a Zoroastrian named Vilma ritualistically shaved my testicles. There really is nothing like a shorn scrotum... it's breathtaking- I highly suggest you try it.
There was something different about him. You didn't probably notice it at first, but when and if you got to know him, you saw it. He didn't look at the world like most people do: it was as if his attention was oftentimes pointed at things deemed uninteresting and irrelevant by others - he'd look at the bird flying above the playing field instead of the players. What was between the lines was more interesting to him than the very text, and he could ponder about a single word more than most people thought about the whole book.
Intelligent, nihilistic and with a wicked sense of humour.
And then there was this fucking loser.
"Frick. It's me," the young man said into the mirror as he realized what he was seeing. Inexplicable. Of course it's him. Could he be hinting at some degree of fourth-wall awareness, which would be tacky and cliched for a pomo book?
"Oh, no, I mean like, ah... I was getting ready for one of those Undertale fuck-offs, reading one of the lines, you know? I called myself Frick in that game lmao," he said, saying lmao out loud, hopefully earning the reader's loathing. What's more he was lying - he was not in fact going to some Undertale-themed orgy or even convention. Let's conclude he is just insane.
"Why are you doing this?" he asked, insanely. "Why are you doing this to yourself?"
He may never know the answer to that. He started weeping and mumbling things like "oh god, just kill me now."
I live in the American Gardens Building on W. 81st Street on the 11th floor. My name is Patrick Bateman. I'm 27 years old. I believe in taking care of myself and a balanced diet and rigorous exercise routine. In the morning if my face is a little puffy I'll put on an ice pack while doing stomach crunches. I can do 1000 now. After I remove the ice pack I use a deep pore cleanser lotion. In the shower I use a water activated gel cleanser, then a honey almond body scrub, and on the face an exfoliating gel scrub. Then I apply an herb-mint facial mask which I leave on for 10 minutes while I prepare the rest of my routine. I always use an after shave lotion with little or no alcohol, because alcohol dries your face out and makes you look older. Then moisturizer, then an anti-aging eye balm followed by a final moisturizing protective lotion.
The Outsider in hand, the enigmatic man grinned benignly to himself. Haphazardly rolled cigarette in mouth, the pulsating music and flashing lights did little to abate his reverie. All around him, the ravers thrashed from side to side, synthetic bliss coursing through them. He himself was, as you would say, quite mangled.
Intelligent, nihilistic and with a wicked sense of humour.
It became apparent the third time I glanced at her that she wasn't looking out the window, as I had previously thought. She was facing the window, half seeing what went on outside it, but her attention was far removed to some cold and distant universe. She wouldn't blink. The pen in her hands was limp. Minutes passed and finally the girl was sucked back into reality, (ours, not her own) by the sound of a video playing on a cell phone. Half of her face twitched. She looked at her blank paper and drew a series of intertwining lines that ran down the side of the page. The cellphone blaster, destroyer of daydreams, turned their volume down a few notches but continued fouling the library with crude and merry sounds.
I watched her shoulders tense a little and wondered how many interrupted thoughts a girl would take before she snapped and threw someone's phone out the window.
>>8280409
My favorite one so far, not entirely sure why.
>>8281093
cringe
>>8281534
Absolutely disgusting.
I am Valen Cortas and I will have vengeance
In as vague terms as possible.
God said, Let there be light; he willed it, and at once there was light. Oh, the power of the word of God! And in the new creation, the first thing that is wrought in the soul is light: the blessed Spirit works upon the will and affections by enlightening the understanding. Those who by sin were darkness, by grace become light in the Lord. Darkness would have been always upon fallen man, if the Son of God had not come and given us understanding, 1Jo 5:20. The light which God willed, he approved of. God divided the light from the darkness; for what fellowship has light with darkness? In heaven there is perfect light, and no darkness at all; in hell, utter darkness, and no gleam of light. The day and the night are the Lord's; let us use both to his honour, by working for him every day, and resting in him every night, meditating in his law both day and night.
(In medias res)
''Have you ever thought about god?'' the stranger asked
''No'' I said while I torqued trying to get away from that person
''What if he entered the room right now, what would you imagine?'' He questioned, while bearing no room for an answer ''You'd see the perfection itself incarnated, a brilliant light, and no refuge for darkness in the room. A perfection to fear ; to love.''
''I-I suppose'' I asserted while babbling
Then I realized, he was not talking about god ; it was a squelch of formalities, a strange form of presentation.
He never thought of god and probably never will, he was childishly trying to know me, enabling a conversation. A kind of sad sweetness in his intentions brought a foretaste of pity. He was an autistic and awkward reprieved soul entering the room.
He reclined on a plastic chair, stroking his beard and curling his red moustache between his index and middle finger while gazing stupidly at passersby. An empty yet somehow satisfied expression adorned his unremarkable face. It was clear that he intended to look thoughtful and intelligent, but his efforts left him resembling a dispeptic monkey. His large and expressive eyes wandered to and fro among the crowd, as if searching for a familiar face, or perhaps a familiar ass. Those who chanced to make eye contact with him received a laughably proud and insolent stare in return. Some felt threatened, lowered their eyes and hurried on, but a few only smiled - it was clear he was a buffoon. Yet something in his eyes belied this notion; in them was a certain sombreness, perhaps a sad sense of self-awareness.
>>8281789
>points for honesty
Hi reader, I'm the protagonist. You might not like me, but you have the whole book to decide—so sit back, relax, and enjoy the ride.
>>8279795
I Kekkled
Thoughts sprang ever heavenward on gilt wings in his presence. The radiance of the golden child had not faded, even in his middle-aged state. His eyes yearned to crush these puny kings and idols, to rend them in his hands. Beauty is truth and truth beauty, but no urn would commemorate those he destroyed, lost in the oblivion of that aureate justice. Time touched not his face, but a smile crossed it as his longing glance swept past another avatar of night, her hips swelling pleasingly. What then this separation from the divine and the beautiful, when all of time could be a paradise?Why must breathing cease, and all the ancient glories turn to dust? He, too, will crumble, but those thews still say it will not be today. Very far from today; his destruction is a kind of love, to spare the imperfect.
The ginger fuck with the weird eyes walked up to us and asked us where the washroom was. I gave him the right direction and he just nodded. He wouldn't make eye contact with Lauren, just sort of stood there for five seconds or so,then burped and walked off. I noticed his shoes were nice, he had on black jeans and a white t shirt. I'm pretty sure it was inside out, one of those tagless labels was visible below his neck.
As he walked away, Jeff and Lauren turned to me and sneered, then it hit me. That ginger motherfucker had crop-dusted us with the worst ass breeze I had ever smelled. I covered my face with my Burberry and headed for the bar.
What a fuck.
It was me, Dio!
>>8279795
>and but so then
>>8281028
>>8279811
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wM7BX43nXIg
It was generous to say that she existed, since in order to do so you would have to acknowledge her.
>>8281028
>He could also wear a fedora and tip it vigorously
Dr. Pavel, I'm CIA.
>>8279940
He read/scrolled through paragraphs of smug ironic muck, eagerly awaiting the opportunity to type some mean-spirited bantz, but the opportunity never arose as his focus pipped from the letters on the keyboard, the post in front of him that he quoted and barely r/olled, and the relative lengths of his public hair compared to the size of his untumescence (both applicable meanings being slights but true about the rolling man). No images mental or otherwise remained to help him remember the inspiration of his turgidity and his post-turgidity stupor, but he hoped that it was something that he would not have to repress.
Moving dully with a hand both acrobatic prematurely arthritic, he tapped a square that popped a list of recent windows, one of which was the shame his afterglought mind forgot: pregnancy-centric hentai. He was pleased to see that it was an almost respectable cummie compared to the previous rounds of dank diddling in doldrumic depravity, and this allowed him to finish his degenerate, damaging typing in pursuit of the drug the (you).
Sitting immobile the Sultan spent his days looking at the tiger, inside a dimly lit room of the house. This is how I found him, his feline Scheherazade equally immobile. I stood quiet. After fifteen seconds, I noticed it: his eyes were moving.
"Laugh" he said, his exuberant comedic charm cheerfully chosen
>>8283198
Do you enjoy Smart High Art of Nu Know Brow School and find it fashionable ?
Qat Allergies, Qat Allergies, Artifcats, an skrivening campaign |iae homo sapiens gesture, legs, args, hands, face, ur sayin are prime compression canidates ioe("we privatized surveillance and police budgets by mapping their bodily movements and social interactions to those of CGI characters, instead everyone just started acting more like television show characters and now we can't tell the computers ones from the smelly ones") google Goo-gel screens, grandpa's tumor has a linkedin profile, the nastier ones don't.
Google had be verify construction vehicles
>>8279783
"Verily, i am a fag." - OP
>>8279783
And then entered a man who once held so much promise, but now squanders his existence away in abject misery and self-loathing. He was very aware of the fact that life would not end well for him.
>>8279783
"he turned into a bug lmao"
>>8283539
(not excluding the quotation marks)
And then it came to pass, as the rage stormed in the room, a light gleamed. The most beautiful, charming, spectacle of a god walked in the room. His body, enough to shake California, and his iron bar cock, erupted earthquakes in the unfertilized eggs of the XX chromosome. And he smiled gallantly, awaiting for his quest.
>he woke up and turned on his libreboot gnu/Linux thinkpad machine
He walked in, his expression projecting a cold heart and reluctance to empathy. A lanky young man with a disheveled spirit. His dark hair and eyes complemented his harsh, yet unremarkable aura.
>>8283657
Funniest troll itt desu.
>>8279800
Something about this prose feels wrong but I enjoyed it
There he is. There he goes again. Look, everyone! He posted it once again! Isn't he just the funniest guy around?! Oh my God.
I can almost see your pathetic overweight frame glowing in the dark, lit by your computer screen which is the only source of light in your room, giggling like a like girl as you once again type your little Bane thread up and fill in the captcha. Or maybe you don't even fill in the captcha. Maybe you're such a disgusting NEET that you actually paid for a 4chan pass, so you just choose the picture. Oh, and we all know the picture. The "epic" CIA agent guy, isn't it? I imagine you little shit laughing so hard as you click it that you drop your Doritos on the floor, but it's ok, your mother will clean it up in the morning. Oh, that's right. Did I fail to mention? You live with your mother. You are a fat fucking fuckup, she's probably so sick of you already. So sick of having to do everything for you all goddamn day, every day, for a grown man who spends all his time on 4chan posting about a capeshit movie. Just imagine this. She had you, and then she thought you were gonna be a scientist or an astronaut or something grand, and then you became a NEET. A pathetic Banefag NEET. She probably cries herself to sleep everyday thinking about how bad it is and how she wishes she could just disappear. She can't even try to talk with you because all you say is "FOR YOU FOR YOU FOR YOU." You've become a parody of your own self. And that's all you are. A sad little man laughing in the dark by himself as he prepares to indulge in the same old dance that he's done a million times now. And that's all you'll ever be.
Forever...
>>8281028
unbearably autistic
He strolled into the room, an entrance unpleasant enough to draw attention. When he saw that no one knew exactly how to draw messages on a wall, he leaned against it, and started playing games on his phone, pretending to text. A few, such as watching a character profile of a film. Only a move a little paper.
One of existence's greatest enigmas, the man with no purpose
Her boyfriend came in right after her. He was taller than her, but still smaller than average, had dark brown hair, green/blue eyes and a roundish face. His smile was strange, it wasn't something one would pick on fast, but it looked a little forced.
As she turned to him his expression changed, finally one could see a real smile, it made him look much younger. He had a light stubble, bearly noticeable, his glasses were very soft, they had something relaxing about them. His hair was short on the sides, long on top, but not too long, just enought to swipe them back, which made it look italian.
A tall, lanky fellow capped with an indecipherable mop of golden brown hair emerged from the men's bathroom. He glanced nervously to and fro about the antiseptic and cinderblocked environs before harpooning his gaze at me. During this brief pause I marked his features in full profile; more striking than the focused, hawk-like brow and prominent beak were the halos of starburst azure resting in the ashen craters of his eyes. The initial awe transmitted by this seemingly dignified semi-angelic terror whisked away when, shattering the crystalline moment, he abruptly paced to the dead end of the corridor, made an anxious U-turn, and again stood before the door of the men's bathroom. The predatorial aspect only masqueraded a timid and startled nature; a sheep in wolf's clothing.
A rather plain looking young man had ascended the stairs. He located a nearby bookshelf and slumped down against it. He preceeded to stare at the ceiling.
Realizing how tired I was, I decided that I should rest.
I ascended the stairs and located a nearby bookshelf. As I slumped down against the shelf, I noticed movement around the stairs.
A rather plain looking young man had ascended the stairs. He located a nearby bookshelf and slumped down against it. He preceeded to stare at the ceiling.
Realizing how tired I was, I decided that I should rest.
I ascended the stairs.
>>8279861
nice anon
Lo, here comes god
>>8279783
>Here Comes Nobody
It's an erotic novella.
He walked bathroom at the supermarket, an inaccessible bathroom, which completely misted up and left him confused as usual, dabbing his hand in his pocket. There is a backlog of one man and one woman, waiting for her to do. She stepped into his path. He scuttles his eyebrows at her. He carried the bathroom, closed the door, waiting for long enough to think about if you're hiding, and then left. He is interested isolated naturally or consistently, he thought, and stepped into a dream, waiting for him to come again.
Big dick swangin big money bankin
His name was Sephiroth Shadow Leonhart. He wore 20 katanas and a perpetual scowl.
5' 10", broad and barrel-chested, with one of those guts that protrudes from the belly before it begins to sag. The kind that's built on a bedrock of muscle gone unused for too long.
His eyes were hazel, painted dark brown by the shadow of his brow, set in purple-ringed eye sockets in a square, doughy face; high cheekbones almost hidden under growing formlessness.
He looked like a bouncer gone to seed, hair kept short through habit, but a sparse shrubland of patchy beard sprouting from his chin and neck. It was unattractive he knew, but he kept it out of a mix of apathy, contrarianism, and a feeling that it was symbolic of his life as a whole.
>>8284073
You motherfuckers best appreciate my puns.
>>8284623
It was a pretty mediocre execution of a pun that five people in this thread already made so I ignored it. I am, however, waiting desperately for someone to laugh at my own post.
>>8284492
Fat cunt
>>8284672
I don't think I can accept your theory that anyone on this forsaken board is a match for my comedic genius.
No one has made my pun, because it is Unique.
>>8279811
I giggled
>>8281709
He strode into the room, immediately commanding attention that his sober brain didn't know what to do with. He arrived an hour late, thirty minutes later than he said he'd arrive yet exactly when he meant to. He was slender, but not effeminately so. Broad shouldered and colorfully manicured, his style said "look at me!" while the expression his face wore said otherwise.
He looked around the room, which was filled with equal parts alcohol, music, and college students. He took out his phone, a crutch, to text the friends he was to meet here, his saviors from the limbo one encounters upon first entering a party. He looked uncomfortable, sticking out like a cactus in a field of talkative, intoxicated daisies, which was surprising given how confident he must be to dress so alternatively.
Just then two guys joined him, handing him a can of beer and, with it, confidence, something to do with his hands. He beamed and embraced each, then relaxed into an air of almost- arrogance, looking around the crowds like a farmer surveys his crops, blending in just the right amount, a well done counterpoint to a simple melody.
>>8286747
I took this seriously bc I'm a fucking lameo. "Seriously" insofar as painting myself in a half realistic half glorified light, inb4 I'm not as cool as I made myself seem, I already know that
In the chair by the door, sat a tall lumpy anglo boy. He was so anglo, in fact that his nose and cheeks were cherry red and his widows peak could poke out the eye of a horse. On the topic of eyes, his were set deep in his skull as if they were attempting to escape... but in the wrong direction. His nose like a staircase leading up from his pink lips to his pasty forehead. Inside that forehead there was a brain that thought very highly of itself. The brain's thoughts on its anglo body weren't very high, however.
>>8284675
Pretty much
>>8283828
This is my fav
>>8286774
your lameo isnt so lame
>>8279783
"He looked like Joe Kennedy, but not nearly as ugly."
>>8279783
>Intelligent, nihilistic and with a wicked tumor.
A man with bloody broken legs crawls on the muddy cobblestones during a flash flood. A dark figure dressed in a black cloak with a scare on his face and red hair looms behind him.
The man pleads for his life. Saying he has a wife and children
I look down under my hood, shotgun in hand
"Pssh. Nothing personal kid"
>>8279783
>suddenly i realize that if i stepped out of my body i would break into blossom
>>8279783
He wondered if he was going to have a wank to either ebony porn, or something by Jay Naylor as he gulped at the shower beer.
He was looking everywhere except my face, eyes turned inwards, and every reply just a syllable shy of uncivil. I struggled trying to comprehend his faint utterances and after a moment of that I was as interested in his presence as he was with my own.
There he hid, in the background of the people seamless. Weak looking, as thin as the neck of a violin and just like it only held up by constant tension. Bleak, eyes downward, prominent wrists. A pretension of misunderstood geniosity, eminating and encapsulating like a crust of dried up stress-related sweat. It is evident that behind his only half-read shelf of books a silicon dildo resides, bought in a particularly jaded burst of ongoing sexual frustration.
Waiting in the lobby room of the hotel, the crowd could already feel it coming. About 15 peoeple of all ages, genders and hair colored, united by fear. Then the strong smell kicked in. They stopped moving because any additional friction would bring about the end even faster. Then he entered. His nose first, then a tip of his brown leather jacket. "Hold on tight to me, boiii!", you could hear a father screaming to his kid. Then the storm began, loads and loads of cum waterfalled the room. As in slow motion, some of the folks grasped for air and closed their eyes before their heads where drowned in the sweet liquid. When the first wave passed by, the think, natural lemon juice could be seen dripping from all chins. " Yeahhhh" he scremed. Taking of his jacket with on hand, he twisted around himself, threw it on the floor and used it like a surf board to glide down the stairs, in his self designed valley of seed
There he sat, dick in hand while the other typed this reply.
Tall and tracksuited the lank lad opened the door, buzzed bald and beery, aggressively suspicious of whoever would interrupt him from what seemed to be a solid wank.
>>8287898
>showering before the wank
absolute madman
As he tried to pry open his dry eyes the hungover young man clearly articulated the sentence "I want to kill myself", like he did every morning.
>>8279815
kek
>>8279924
bravo anon
>>8280154
nice
>>8283421
this is just annoying to me, desu
He had brown eyes, brown hair, and thick eyebrows.
A thick, black bramble rode into the room on its gaunt man-mount. The beast makes a paltry attempt at humour whilst the mass of vine-hair on his head shudders in disdain; its defiance of gravity no doubt an attempt to escape its ridiculous pet.
He sat alone, brooding. His calloused hands pushed thick chestnut hair out of his eyesight again and again. The dark eyes darted around, observing the clutter of streets. He exhaled audibly and shut his eyes in an attempt to lose himself within his own thoughts.
>>8290318
Omg are u me?
>>8279783
Quitzing crimbles and antediluvian machines creep about the corner, illuminated by the rotating devices embedded in the cheap plaster walls. Their kind weep as they walk. Their legs bend far ahead and their arms drag the ground, leaving behind trails of purity in the dusty ground, surely a sign that life still moves, still eats, still survives.
Out of this galloping and creeping crowd of Rodyjak fools and twimsy automatons walks one that stands apart, unique only for his complete lack of individuality. An ancient beast, clad in meat and fur, flimsy in structure and long-legged to the extreme. This bizarre being smiles when it walks, and speaks in a language as old as memory itself.
>>8279800
it's good but it needs a bit more work, maybe a bit too convoluted. Keep trying you have potential.
Hi. It's me. You don't know me because I'm a character in and only the author knows me. However, I'm the author, so I only know myself. Unless you're me but are you me? We all came from the same few elements at the beginning of time, thus I say we are both appendages of the same creature. But who is this creature that we form? Maybe the creature is individually ourselves and into infinite collective. Sorry for the poor explanation, language is inherently flawed as a finite vehicle explaining a infinite subject. I'm gay.
>>8290273
huh?
Amongst the clamor of the rowdy sink, a tall quiet figure slipped in the door almost unnoticed. His eyes never averted from the bar were he sat with concious measure and signaled for a sour whiskey. Obviously this man was a stranger in this town so I figured to make a friend in this fetid back water and strode over to greet him. As I opened my mouth for introduction the man lashed out with his words spitting spitfully "Fuck off"
>>8279811
Sleep deprived eyes gallantly gaze every other person's personal in this train headed home on the most pain in the ass -tracks. Because sleep in impossible when you can't but keep checking wether your keys have made a hole in your pocket and let themselves out and if such a tjing has or has not occurred surely your wallet's been stolen by someone who's simply pretending to be asleep. You know this because it's what you would do. Come to think of it you should've driven your car back and not leave it in front of a store where it'll get ticketed but that is also impossible. Cars crash, don't let anyone tell you they don't. Do trains crash? Not that much but fuck me if I'll die a virgin.
>>8279783
Here comes this dumb southern aspie oh boy oh boy hes here to just fuck everyones day up.
She peeked through the quietly cracked front door, sad set eyes scanning the room behind thick lenses. She invited her friends to invite her inside, and grinned as they did, embracing those present with arms made of spindle. She situated herself in an open nook in the couch, and faded in and out with a voice that could only jump from silent to boisterous.
I check the clock for the fifth time in a minute. She should have been here ten minutes ago, but here I am, alone on a table for two, with a lukewarm espresso. As I sip it I look idly out the window. The lives of passers by are impenetrable to me. Why did that man go to poundland and not the poundstretcher opposite? How bored old people look when they walk. Each day is a colossal boulder, shifted one step at a time.
There she is. Equally impenetrable. Not looking ahead, or footwards, but straight at the sky. She stops and takes in the panorama. It's a grey day, raining, but apparently that doesn't make a difference. Out of the trance, she makes the momentous walk to the coffee shop, pretending she hasn't seen me. I've got to say, her social skills are better than mine. Ugh this is going to be so awkward. But I've read up on quantum mechanics so I should be good.
>>8291571
Quantum mechanics? Hi fellow physics person!
>>8279783
Covered in shit up to his thighs, the boy turned to meet my eyes. His were a vibrant green as if they were grown with the fertilizer he was shoveling. With each heave of his arms, reddened by the sun, he sent a pile of foul smelling crap over his golden locks into a pile by the side of the road.
I should've known by his prodigious stature that he was capable of flinging the fertilizer much further. Alas, it was only once he lowered his head to avert his gaze from my blushing face; when his next toss of crap hit me right in the head, filling my gaping mouth, that I realized. This is it, this is what my mother was scared of. This is why I must move with my auntie and uncle... to Bel-Air.
The way that his swelling member pressed on against his pants further excited our hero. It also excited his therapist, Ben.
"And there I was. I'm a grill btw."
A subtle breeze blows through the room. Too subtle to be a draft, but closer to a shift in air pressure that only barely warrants a dispassionate unconscious note among the thousands of equally dispassionate sensory inputs being processed by their brains every second. The party continues unaffected by the minute change in the room's atmosphere.
>>8279783
He came in, taking far too much room in the doorway as he passed through it, injecting various uglinesses on the senses of those already occupying. As he sat down a cloud of must exploded from him as he made a sudden movement for the bowl of stale pretzels on the bar. "what'll you have?" asked the bartender, an affable bald man with a magnificent moustache. "gntnch" the musty one replied. The bartender took the hint, and went off to fill a glass with one of his cheap beers. "I broke into the significance.. that word, bandersnatch! Aint it grand?" the offender shrieked, speckling the freshly waxed bar with bits of saliva and mushed pretzel dough. The ones nearest him showed their obvious disdain for one so criminally socially inept, and spoke to him abruptly. "This is a museum, sir, I'm afraid you'll have to leave or we'll call the police." The lone crusted creature made an oinking sound and fled into the marbled hallways, tossing bottles to and fro, noting that they sounded suspiciously like clay pots erupting into shards on the ground as he went.
Out of nothing, a noise erupted from the shanty basement.
"Blarrrgh, tendies"
It was (name). Evidently, it was time for his mother to deliver his chicken tendies, as she does every day, 4 times a day.
(name), an overweight, smelly, depressed man, who was the personification of a mustard stained t-shirt loved his chicken tendies more than everything (except for his 2D japanese animated porn he had on his laptop).
He came. He went.
>>8292129
gay
Hi, my name's Anon. Nice to meet you.
SHORT NIGGA BUT MY DICK TALL
>>8279783
Stately Plump is my name, I enjoy bearing bowls and placing mirrors and razors on 'lather'
probably the way my friend's girlfriend was introduced to me yesterday
standing on the concrete porch only two or so hours before twilight, she felt anxious. She wanted to begin drinking sooner rather then later but it was important to Jack that he retrieve his friend so with him she patiently waited. After the third knock on the faded red pink door a ruckus could be heard from inside as a creature, who she could only discern to be human by clues in the context of their visit being as the noise was so bombastic and animistic, crashed and stumbled its way to the front door. Jack mused as he heard the doorknob be finagled and before too long the door flung open not a foot and filling the new empty space was who she could only assume to be anon. He was portly and bearish with his fatness outlined by his loose fitting clothing and unshaven face and chest hear visible along the color line of his shirt. His hair was greasy and his eyes were only half lidded and the bags beneath them were terribly prominent against even his not so pale completion. He stood tall, above both her and Jack beside you, maybe six feet and a few inches, and scanning downward she notices his bear legs and plaid boxer shorts that offered incremental protection from the outside world to his genitalia that presented itself proudly against the fabric. He looked between his friend and the strange woman on his stoop and a smile grew on his before slackjawed face and he greeted the two in kind, addressing jack and then her by name and with the most possible enthusiasm he could seem to muster. He did not feel inclined to offer his hospitality but instead described in his lower and rough from fatigue voice that he had slept from 10 in the afternoon today till just now when they had knocked, he explained that his leaning in the doorway was due to imbalance and his temporary inability to stand. Implicitly she and Jack felt inclined to leave and told him that they felt as though he would be better to have some time to clean and wake up and drive to Luke's on his own accord. He swiftly and gratefully agreed to this, and with that being that he, with what seemed to be great effort, hauled himself from his position leaning in between the door and its frame, and closed it as she and her mate walked down the steps back to the truck.
it's 4am and I haven't written anything in well over a year, pls no bully
The stranger who accompanied them was gaunt. Angular features shrouded by long, greasy hair. Sunken eyes, one of which, was accented by a gruesome bruise. He lacked the ability to grow a beard, yet there were traces of unkempt scruff sprouting from his face. His frame hung forwards in a hunch, disguising his average height. Loose clothing draped around his body, stained with god knows what. Despite only recently arriving, he already smelled of liquor.
Remind me why I can never pursue writing.
>>8279795
>and but so
She sat alone at the bar, nursing her bourbon, waiting for her boyfriend. She glanced to her right and saw two men and a woman talking animatedly. They must have been friends. As she looked, she saw the man furthest from her looking at her. Ah, here was an opportunity for a free drink. She stood and adjusted her dress, making sure to dip down and show off her tits. Several seconds later, sure enough, he stood up and sat down to her left. She sized him up as he adjusted the barstool under himself, put his elbows on the bar, and slumped his shoulders. Tall, slightly overweight, dressed very casually. Carelessly messy hair. Enough stubble on his face to no longer be called stubble, not quite enough to be a beard, lining his strong jawline. Handsome, but his slumped posture belied some insecurity.
"Ey, what's cookin', good lookin'?"
He'd do.
>>8293096
>Enough stubble on his face to no longer be called stubble, not quite enough to be a beard, lining his strong jawline
good work.
"Greetings, niggers!" He exclaimed as he kicked in the door for no reason. One foot stepped on the ground, another following, and then a loud thump was heard, not for a third foot, but for his massive cock hitting the floor
>>8293102
Framing. I should have gone with 'framing'.
>>8279783
Just a humble motherfucker with a big-ass dick
He was a timid man attempting to look wise, body tense with the effort of appearing nonchalant, his pretensions a thin mask, barely covering his many fears. He spoke sincerely enough, but it was the earnestness of the deluded - his every word a plea for you to believe the lies he told about himself as passionately as he did.
He's hungry. There's some food downstairs, in the fridge, the cupboards, the shelves. But he's not leaving his room. He won't go to the food. No one will bring it to him, there's no one here but him. Waiting. Waiting for something. He keeps typing, the short clacks rises up from beneath his fingertips.
He's hungry. He seeks a response. A reply. Anything. But he won't message any of his friends online. Or pick up a phone. Or send a text. He keeps staring at the screen, the light filling the back of his head.
He's hungry. He seeks a new thought. A new idea. But he won't pick up a book of poetry. He won't go to a news site. He won't continue the book he's barely begun. He keeps typing, sending easily ignorable posts on sites full of similarly hungry people. Hungry for food. Hungry for interaction. Hungry for ideas. Hungry. He's hungry.
>>8279795
HAHA
>>8279783
It was a Wednesday (my dudes). A cloud of water vapor bursting through the door announced the entrance of a true gentlemen. Sporting a recently purchased trilby[1], everyone's attention is immediately drawn: First to the trench coat, then the barely concealed Pokemon shirt, lastly, finishing on the hat [2].
Then with the speed and agility of a man 200 lbs lighter, the true gentleman whips out a replica samurai sword and proceeds to wallop and lunge at a the inhabitants of this classic burger joint, and but so, you see, tendies had been taken off the menu.
So it goes
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[1] not to be confused with the immaculate fedora, a hat only foregone due to a rather unfortunate Mountain Dew spill that had occurred only a day ago.
[2] many would inevitably make mistake the fatal mistake discussed above.
And then the Sun came.
He rose from the chair gently, standing around six foot with broad shoulders which held thick arms, faintly tanned from the sun which bore down on him. His hair cut short, a beard is cut neatly, tinged red slightly by the Suns fingertips. Ruggedly handsome features are etched into his face with the echoes of aristocractic hauntings, two distant, troubled eyes of blue suddenly return to him as they fix upon you. A veined hand travels fourth to meet yours, thick short fingers with hair below the knuckles.
"Hello anon", a northern voice sounds.
Hi my name is Ebony Dark’ness Dementia Raven Way and I have long ebony black hair (that’s how I got my name) with purple streaks and red tips that reaches my mid-back and icy blue eyes like limpid tears and a lot of people tell me I look like Amy Lee (AN: if u don’t know who she is get da hell out of here!). [[I’m not related to Gerard Way but I wish I was because he’s a major fucking hottie. I’m a vampire but my teeth are straight and white. I have pale white skin. I’m also a witch, and I go to a magic school called Hogwarts in England where I’m in the seventh year (I’m seventeen). I’m a goth (in case you couldn’t tell) and I wear mostly black. I love Hot Topic and I buy all my clothes from there. For example today I was wearing a black corset with matching lace around it and a black leather miniskirt, pink fishnets and black combat boots. I was wearing black lipstick, white foundation, black eyeliner and red eye shadow. I was walking outside Hogwarts. It was snowing and raining so there was no sun, which I was very happy about. A lot of preps stared at me. I put up my middle finger at them.
A colossal faggot suddenly interrupted her quite faggotishly. "HI IM OHPEE I LIKE MCDONALDS" he faggoted out of his mouth. He then proceeded to kill himself (in the most faggoty way possible so it wasn't noble or anything) so that faggots such as he would never roam the steppe again
See Mark.
>>8293503
Oh hi, Mark.
Passing before me is a tall, balding man in rumpled clothes. His doughy body and pale skin tell me he would rather be sitting in front of a computer right now. His downcast eyes, nervous gait, and the three days' worth of beard proclaim he does not often leave his home. The fact he is here, at a grocery store, at 1:00 P.M. on a Tuesday, tells me he is probably not employed. He walks past my register to the self-checkout machines.
>>8291583
Hey.
