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STORY THREAD
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You are currently reading a thread in /r9k/ - ROBOT9001

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Tell me a story. Any story will do. Something sad, something happy, something long, something short, boring or exciting. It's all ok as long as it's true and you feel like telling it. Come on and share some stories tonight. I'll read everything posted in this thread and I'll try my best to reply to whatever I can think of a semi-intelligent reply to.
>>
>be me
>at this concert with friends
>place is packed
>this girl shows up
>she puts her hands on my face
>my heart just races
>she asks if I'm on drugs
>I say no
>she says that's good and some things and leaves
>I look at my friend and give her a look

I wonder why she did that
>>
>jerking off
>see this thread
>type up a reply
>click all the signs with street names but captcha just doesn't believe me
>have to do it three times
>go back to jerking off
>>
STORYMAN GET THE FUCK IN HERE
>>
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>try to post lewd thread
>get banned
>>
>>25276490
I can't say I'm sorry for you. Sorry.
>>25276421
My captcha asked me which things were pies and one of the pies was a pizza pie which reminded me that I haven't eaten yet today. Uh, good luck choking the monkey though I guess.
>>25276389
Maybe she was on drugs.
Maybe she thought you were cute.
A girl at work touches me a lot and I think she either likes touching people or likes me.
>>25276460
pls
>>
>Be me
>Able to form human connections
>Unable to maintain them
>Every day hurts a little more
help
>>
>She died four years ago in a car accident
>She was bleeding out on a cold lonely road
>Begins to call out for her mother
>With her final breath, she gurlged out my name instead
Can't shake it, lads. Haven't stopped thinking about it since it happened
>>
>>25276601
I'm sorry man :(
This is a fucking original comment
>>
>>25276539
Me too. So many people have gone away. I wish I knew what to say to you to help.
>>25276601
I'm sorry anon. This might sound trite but you should try therapy if you haven't already. You have a lot of feelings you need to deal with and a professional would really help.
>>
Alright I've told this story a couple times already, it's kinda funny

>be poor
>went to a friend's house
>leave as it is getting late and I'm pretty far from home
>I'm in a part of city where I've never been before
>there is a sort of bus network that you pay to enter and it has several routes
>seldom used it before
>long story short I got kinda lost in it and just got out in the first subway station where I know my way around
>with no money in my pocket
>get in the station hoping I'll find a way to enter
>we have a culture of just skipping the tourniquet
>a group of guys get in just in front of me, one of them separates from the group and tries to skip behind the cop's back
>I follow as if nothing happened
>cop turns around and catches us
>the dude looks at me as if saying "welp, we blew it", takes a ticket and gets in
>it's really late, one hour before the subway closes
>very few people coming in, I ask everybody for a ticket
>nobody gives me shit
>in my desperation accidentally ask a hobo
>he can barely talk but I notice he's a hobo and leave him
>approach cop
>"Hey can I get in? I'm really far from home and have no money"
>NO
>keep asking him for a while trying to convice her
>oh yeah it was a disgusting ugly middle aged roastie
>"Well if you ain't letting me in, I'll just fucking get in"
>jump the tourniquet
>roast gets in front of me trying to block my way
>hobo skips the tourniquet next to mine
>she tries to block his way
>I go in further
>she can't deal with both of us
>threatens to call security or whatever
>we just get in laughing at her
>>
here's another one just because I like to tell anecdotes

>go out with friend
>we're out on the street at night tagging cargo trucks and corporation buildings
>we're walking, my friend eating potato chips
>a short man is walking towards us on the sideway
>we coincide at a point where there are some plants separating the sidewalk from the street and a tarp above, so it's kinda dark and isolated little section
>my friend gets behind me to let the guy walk along
>I walk past him and we (the man and I) look at each other in the eyes in absolute distrust (big dangerous city)
>my friend behind me offers him a chip
>man takes one and says thanks
>we relief
>>
You'll read everything? Here's a challenge: long, boring, and about nothing at all. I'll post it in parts.

Maybe it's time for me to write the New York story. Somehow I don't
want to, I want to let it get lost to time. But it's important. Maybe
it's the Third Venture of the Second Stage, and maybe those things
don't exist. But either way it was important.
Saturday at noon I sat waiting for the train. Heaped on a bench, I
stared listlessly ahead, wondering why I was doing this and grumbling
about the cost of the ticket-- $12.50. Higher than I'd expected. What
was I even paying for? What could I possibly find in New York?
I claimed a window seat. The train filled up quickly and I was
surrounded by a family, and a couple. They conversed, I didn't. They
were going into the city for the little girl's birthday.
I wondered if they were happy.
The ride was longer than I remembered. When I arrived at Grand Central,
I marveled at the lack of separation between the public and non-public
spaces. It was one continuous platform stretching from equipment and
switchgear up to the bona fide public platform. It's like they just
kept cramming tracks into the terminal, even converting old maintenance
tracks to cope with increasing passenger traffic.
It was a shock having so many people everywhere. There were just so
many of them, of all types and walks of life. I saw at least one
unironic fedora.
I made my way south down 5th avenue. It was my intention to cross the
Booklyn bridge.
I have some fond childhood memories of new york city. But I like the
city in its own right.
It's easy to look at a city and see machinery, and to see the people
subjugated and repressed by that omnipresent machinery and machine
mentality.

[...]
>>
>>25277202
But everywhere I went, in everything I saw, I saw people. I saw the
work of human hands. Everything was the way it was because it worked.
It didn't all make sense, because sometimes things don't. But sometimes
things didn't need to make sense, didn't need to be efficient. They are
the way they are because they evolved that way and change comes slow.
It's a city of people.
I stopped to rest in Washington Square. I was surprised, in that part
of the city, to see so many people my age, but I was close to NYU, so
it makes sense.
I saw some strange people, too. One man, standing perfectly still,
holding a sign. "I AM A HUMANIST. MY GIRLFRIEND IS AN ANARCHIST. NAME
OUR BABY". In front of him was a large sheet and a box of markers.
People had written hundreds of names. He barely moved, holding that
sign. It was like looking at a photograph, not because he was so still,
but because before then, I had seen scenes like that one only in
photographs. I considered writing something, but it was pretty full
already.
There was another strange man. He wore tattered clothes and stood,
perfectly still, with a rubber chicken between his legs. He too had a
sign, but I don't remember what it said.
His performance is to attract the attention of people who will then
read the sign, and know the message. But it didn't work, he got it
wrong. He got my attention but the message didn't stick. Just like poor
Doug Hughes and his gyrocopter, his stunt and his message became
separated.
I sat down on a bench and stared at nothing in particular. Here I was,
someplace I had absolutely no business being. I'd come here for no
reason, I'd spent money on train tickets for no reason. The river of
people rushed by in front of me. Tributaries branched off to the side,
eddies spun off and became briefly stationary on the benches near me.
I was dimly aware of all of them.

[...]
>>
>>25277216

Far be it from me to smoke cigarettes, but I had bought a pack for this
very purpose. I lit one, and turned it over and over in my fingers as I
watched the reaction slowly work its way down the white paper,
converting it into ash.
My theory proved true. A man about my age sitting near me got my
attention and asked to bum a cigarette. Apparently in New York, it's
customary to offer a dollar in return, because the cost of cigarettes
is very high there.
He'd lived in the city all his life, save a while in Long Island. He'd
gone to NYU. While we were talking, somebody on the other side of the
square began playing the drums. For ten years, he told me, that group
had been playing the drums here in Washington Square and in other parks
around the city. They were pretty good.
Until now, I had been hesitant to talk to anybody in other places
because if they asked me why I was there, I had no good answer. But now
only was I feeling apathetic, but it's a little more acceptable to be
in New York City for no reason, just by virtue of the fact that it's
New York City.
He asked where I was from. I told him I was from Connecticut. And he
did, indeed, ask why I'd come. I told the truth, that I was here for no
reason at all. He asked if I had any plans. I said I had none. This he
seemed to accept.
I had figured that maybe I'd stay a while there and try and talk to
more people, but I didn't. I continued south.

[continued later]
But I never continued it. The rest of the story has been lost, forever.
>>
>>25277244
not OP, I liked it, liked your style of writing. Honest
Is it something that happened? why didn't your finish it? why don't you?
>>
>>25277202
>>25277216
>>25277244
I actually like it. I like rambling stories about nothing in particular. There doesn't need to be a point for something to be enjoyable.
>>25277072
>>25276896
I never knew they were called tourniquets I always called them gate things. Words not my strong suit tho
>>
>>25277325
>>25277340
I didn't finish it because I'm always fighting with myself about memory. Part of me wants to remember and record everything. Part of me wants to forget it all. This time, the latter part won.
If you like it that much, here's more:

The Second Venture was Friday.
Norwalk is far but not too far. The train ticket was cheap. My memories
of Norwalk are more spotty, but I'll write what I know.
I got off at the East Norwalk station. I wanted to see the whole place.
I wanted to know it.
One of the first places I passed was a church with a thrift shop. I
visited this shop, looking for a little glass bottle with a stopper or
top. I want one of those to carry small quantities of gasoline for my
hand warmer. I didn't find one, but I did find a little tin for 50
cents, the type I use to store tea in. I asked the woman working there
about little glass bottles. She was nice, genuinely caring and helpful.
There weren't any, but she encouraged me to come back.
I walked north, to a little park in the center of town. There were a
few main streets in this area and I walked many of them.
Norwalk is built around a river. I had to go north to cross it. That's
also where the main part of town was.
If I had to describe Norwalk in a word, it would be mediocrity. There
was a lot of space for lease in the large buildings. There was new
construction but not much. There was very little evidence of wealth.
There didn't seem to be much going on. It was calming.

[...]
>>
>>25277389
I found myself in a little park near the convergence of the main
highways. There was a printmaking shop there, which I visited. I didn't
even know about that art style. I spent some time walking around
looking at all the art. Somebody who worked there showed me a little
pamphlet about how all the various methods worked.
I was at first confused. Why go through all this involved process, just
to make marks on the paper?
I looked at the art until I felt some glimmer of understanding. It
wasn't much, but it was just enough to keep.
I took a shortcut through a graveyard and walked up the river through
an industrial area.
I saw a shop in an old building that advertised electric motor repair.
I imagined my life, if I lived in a cheap Norwalk apartment and got a
job fixing motors. If I embraced the mediocrity and let it cover me
like a blanket.
I found a diner, somewhere. An old place. Genuinely old, not just meant
to look that way. Done up in art-deco.
It wasn't a place that time forgot. Places like that aren't real and
this diner was very real.
It was the fact that time hadn't forgotten it. It was all the little
things that had been added to and subtracted from it over the years.
The drink machine from the 90's. A modern, but obselete cash register.
A Bunn coffee machine whose design was timeless but newer than the
original diner.
This was not a place that time forgot. This was a place that been
touched, gently, by time's loving hand.
The meat loaf was good. I stayed a long time. People came and went.
Some of them were regulars. A lot of them were familiar with each
other. All had lives of their own.

[...]
>>
>be labourer
>nice body
>like 21
>over at friends house smoking cones in his bedroom playing ps3
>go downstairs his moms there
>shes studying massage therapy and aromatherapy
>says she needs people to massage on but most people dont want to do it
>asks if id be interested
>say it wont be sexual
>say maybe
>go back to friend and never mention this

i could fuck my old friends mom right? shes nearly 60 now though
>>
>>25277403
After I ate I went back up around the river and south toward the train
station. Along the way I found a little staircase that went down into
what may have been private property, but it was a little walk next to
the river. I could look out from there and see all the lights of the
town across the water.
Nobody checked my ticket, the whole train ride. I don't think there were
any metro-north employees on board except the driver.
The computer announced the station stops, but he'd always get on the
mic and announce them himself. He enjoyed it, clearly. Maybe it's what
keeps him awake and alert when it's late and not much going on, and not
many people riding. "Thanks for riding", he'd say happily after every
station. He informed me of some kind of metro-north employee event the
upcoming weekend, a football or baseball game or something, and invited
everyone.
I don't remember getting off at the station or walking back, but I do
remember getting back home. Nothing happened. I just remember it.
>>
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>chillin on train
>orangutang starts to chimp out
>no pls
>dashing through the crowd
>upset half of the train
>coons give chase
>tuck and roll to shake them off
>orangutang gets angrier
>reveals his gun
>why.png
>everyone freaks out
>hate trains
>all is lost
>very tense as the train stops
>everyone is silent
>anybody could've stepped up
>people are such cowards
>run and charge at nigs
>overshot the speed
>break some random guy's leg
>level 89 monkey appears
>everyone stares at me and monkey
>monkey man leans in close and whispers
read the first word of every sentence
>>
>>25277422
Not OP.

You got a partial photographic memory or something?
Or you just really put mental weight in those walks of yours?
>>
>>25277415
n-no anon what no
>>25277422
I wish I could write like this and have it be comprehensible like you do. When I do it it ends up being a weird mash of stuff and all schizophrenic and rambly.
>>25277461
I tried that but I didn't get it
>>
last week.
>get coffee with ex
>go back to her apartment.
>didnt have sex.
>think that maybe next we hang out we'll have sex.

today.
>get high with ex.
>walk around city talking and laughing.
>get pizza.
>go back to her place.
>hang out and talk while she played music.
>didnt have sex.


if we dont have sex does that mean she doesnt love me anymore?
>>
>>25277535
I have a bad memory most of the time, but sometimes, certain things stick in my mind very brightly. I don't like the norwalk story all that much, actually, because I left things out. A lot about the diner I didn't write down, and it's still pretty bright.
The door handle to the bathroom was worn out and hanging, half-crooked, out of its fitting. The woman who took my order, I remember her. She was blonde, middle-aged, and had a tired, hurried look about her. Her daughter was there, curled up with a coloring book near the door to the kitchen. As the dinner rush ramped up, her attention was split between the girl and the customers.
I didn't know anything more about her or her life, but I remember that feeling. The struggle to support a family, the inability to afford a babysitter. Her genuine but weary smile.
>>
>>25277681
it means youre a faggot

hook up with her and if she rebuffs you cut contact with her

or be your ex girlfriends friend while she fucks other guys like a cuck
>>
>>25276160
>be me
>18 yrs old
>Hansolo dies
>>
>>25277415
go for it lad

MUH MUTED COMMENT NOT ORIGINALLL
>>
>>25277715
but what if i just have to put more work in?
>>
>come home from meeting with social worker
>threatening to cut benefits if I don't get a job
>notice door was unlocked, even though my gf said she had picked up a shift
>shrug and go inside
>hear noises upstairs
>maybe someone broke in
>go upstairs with phone dialed to 911 ready to call
>noise is coming from my bedroom
>sounds like someone is breaking down a door in there
>open the door
>get on the floor my gf was riding a chadasaur
>>
>>25277681
>that mean she doesn't love me anymore?

SHE IS YOUR EX
NO SHE DOES NOT
>>
>>25277809
sunk cost fallacy

what does work even mean in this context? you cant negotiate attraction

either she wants you or she doesnt

you cant do more things to make her want to fuck you

youve got oneitis

google any terms in this post you dont understand

develop abundance mentality
>>
>>25277862
:(
>>25277782
I already saw that movie. It was kind of bad.
>>25277686
A photo pls
>>25277890
Truth.txt
>>
>>25277799
i ran into her the other day for the first time in a year

she touched my arms and gave me a few hello and goobye kisses

her son rang while we were talking and she scolded him to call her back later because she was talking to someone

i think i can fuck a 59 yo old friends mom lads
>>
>>25277890
>>25277897
thanks r9k.

i knew i could count on you to give me a good hard dicking and wake me up.
>>
OP goes to sleep but I'll bookmark this thread and read anything I miss in the morning. Goodnight /r9k/ have a pleasant night (or morning)
Thread replies: 37
Thread images: 3

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