It's been entirely too long since we had one of these.
Show your appreciation. You know this place would be worthless without me.
Your fortune: Godly Luck
>>5616514
I know you're not the real kekmaster but i just wanna say that the k-man is the best namefig around
Your fortune: Good Luck
>>5616525
you seem to be a little confused but at least you're showing your appreciation for the best namefig around
Your fortune: Good news will come to you by mail
>>5616514
Love you senpai! <3
the le very hungery girlie
>>5616369
lily is best gril
>>5616455
Not only do I agree with you but you got nice dubs :^)
>>5617032
lole
Happy Megumin Monday!
>>5615796
um just post this thread on /a/ oh wait u already did
can you delete both of these threads then and just post them on /c/?
>>5615803
sure just give me a few secs
DELETING PROCESS:
0%
░░░░░░ 30%
░░░░░░░░░░░░░ 60%
░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░░ 100%
both threads are deleted and have been moved to /c/ have a nice day
>>5615796
Mgmeme post
is this board just /b/ for preschoolers?
>>5619228
The problem is, OP, that you probably aren't seeing all the posts. If you are just viewing [s4s] through the /s4s/ board, you don't see the green posts, the posts with letters in their ids, or anything numberless. Together, those make up about 40-70 percent of [s4s], depending on the day. So conversation will appear disjointed and spastic, because you won't be getting the full picture.
I actually just flipped over to the /s4s/ interface to make this post, and it's pretty funny how unintelligible [s4s] is like this.
>>5619228
would explain your impotent presence
look everyone a meme everyone stopped caring about years ago haha are you triggered yet? no.
>>5619230
what
hey im bored as fuck, come shitpost to me on my porn blog
https://rebelwithoutalimit.tumblr.com/
>>5619183
I want to watch while you have lesbian sex
>>5619190
who dosent?
A child said What is the grass? fetching it to me with full hands;
How could I answer the child? I do not know what it is any more than he.
I guess it must be the flag of my disposition, out of hopeful green
stuff woven.
Or I guess it is the handkerchief of the Lord,
A scented gift and remembrancer designedly dropt,
Bearing the owner's name someway in the corners, that we may see
and remark, and say Whose?
Or I guess the grass is itself a child, the produced babe of the vegetation.
Or I guess it is a uniform hieroglyphic,
And it means, Sprouting alike in broad zones and narrow zones,
Growing among black folks as among white,
Kanuck, Tuckahoe, Congressman, Cuff, I give them the same, I
receive them the same.
And now it seems to me the beautiful uncut hair of graves.
Tenderly will I use you curling grass,
It may be you transpire from the breasts of young men,
It may be if I had known them I would have loved them,
It may be you are from old people, or from offspring taken soon out
of their mothers' laps,
And here you are the mothers' laps.
This grass is very dark to be from the white heads of old mothers,
Darker than the colorless beards of old men,
Dark to come from under the faint red roofs of mouths.
O I perceive after all so many uttering tongues,
And I perceive they do not come from the roofs of mouths for nothing.
I wish I could translate the hints about the dead young men and women,
And the hints about old men and mothers, and the offspring taken
soon out of their laps.
What do you think has become of the young and old men?
And what do you think has become of the women and children?
They are alive and well somewhere,
The smallest sprout shows there is really no death,
And if ever there was it led forward life, and does not wait at the
end to arrest it,
And ceas'd the moment life appear'd.
All goes onward and outward, nothing collapses,
And to die is different from what any one supposed, and luckier.
Has any one supposed it lucky to be born?
I hasten to inform him or her it is just as lucky to die, and I know it.
I pass death with the dying and birth with the new-wash'd babe, and
am not contain'd between my hat and boots,
And peruse manifold objects, no two alike and every one good,
The earth good and the stars good, and their adjuncts all good.
I am not an earth nor an adjunct of an earth,
I am the mate and companion of people, all just as immortal and
fathomless as myself,
(They do not know how immortal, but I know.)
Every kind for itself and its own, for me mine male and female,
For me those that have been boys and that love women,
For me the man that is proud and feels how it stings to be slighted,
For me the sweet-heart and the old maid, for me mothers and the
mothers of mothers,
For me lips that have smiled, eyes that have shed tears,
For me children and the begetters of children.
Undrape! you are not guilty to me, nor stale nor discarded,
I see through the broadcloth and gingham whether or no,
And am around, tenacious, acquisitive, tireless, and cannot be shaken away.
In this section, a child asks the question that will generate the rest of the poem: “What is the grass?” The answer to this question will in some ways occupy the poet through all the rest of the sections, leading him eventually to entitle his entire bookLeaves of Grass. As is often the case with children’s questions, there is no easy answer to this one. And the poet, instead of offering a categorical reply (he is done with the lecturing and accounting and the talk of beginnings and endings), responds instead by offering guesses, shifting answers, for he realizes that, the more we think about what the grass truly is, the less we know. Maybe, in the way it manages to grow everywhere out of the soil (which is always composted death), the grass is the “flag of my disposition,” the very sign of the poet’s optimism. Or maybe it’s the very sign of God, a coy reminder of the mystery of creation, dropped everywhere for us to wonder whose it is (like a woman dropping a monogrammed handkerchief in the hope that it will be picked up by a possible lover and will lead him back to her).
The grass is itself a child, always emerging anew from the realm of death into a new life; it is a kind of coded writing that seems to speak equality since it grows among the rich and poor, among black and white. But it is primarily the sign of life emerging from death, and the poet imagines himself walking over graves and imagining the grass as the transformed life of those buried beneath him. His imagery here is delicate, precise, and a bit macabre: “This grass is very dark to . . . come from under the faint red roofs of mouths.” Just as, in the previous section, the tongue plunged to the heart, here the grass grows from the mouths of the dead, as if it is “so many uttering tongues.” The tongue is the organ of voice, and Whitman hears tongues speaking everywhere he looks.
Whitman here begins his exploration of how the dead are not silent, are not voiceless, but rather how they are always speaking through the life that emerges from them. If we want to know what the dead are saying, we need only “translate the hints” of those “uttering tongues” of grass. The dead speak in “a uniform hieroglyphic,” a coded language that requires us to listen hard, to be fearless in our translation, in order to ultimately realize that “the smallest sprout shows there is really no death.” The grass always speaks life and always emerges from death, so death always ceases the moment new life appears. Again, this is Whitman’s faith in compost, in the cycle of death and life that guarantees that death is never an ending but always a beginning of ongoing life, which is forever moving “onward and outward,” making death far different than we might have supposed, not an ending but an ongoing process of dissolving again into diffuse and ever-leafing life. How lucky can we be to exist in a universe where death is only a harmless word we give to a passing moment in our ever-recycling life?
PROVE YOU'RE NOT A FAGGOT.
LAST TWO DIGITS DECIDE HOW MANY PUSH UPS YOU DO. I'LL START.
I'M NOT A FAGGOT MOM!!!!!
>>5618484
OK lol
i wont do it. LOL
Do you agree?
>>5618445
LOL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
>>5618445
ew ifunny
Just for that Ifunny watermark I say that traps are gay
You all Fall Short in Pepe's sight.
That is ok. KEK will redeem you. Maybe....
Your fortune: You will meet a dark handsome stranger
>>5618400
dubs nice
Your fortune: Reply hazy, try again
>>5618400
literally poop
>>5618400
Redeem me. :_:
If I feel like shitposting is this the correct board?
>>5618386
no >:^(
no. you are looking for /bant/ or /trash/
>>5618386
hdsgdagjdghjdsfhsdfhsdfks
Your fortune: Bad Luck
should i start to watch k-on?
if u want 2
>>5618374
should u?
three wishes will be granted to you if you let gjennie rub you're weenie
Your fortune: キタ━━━━━━(゚∀゚)━━━━━━ !!!!
>>5618373
i wud wish gjennie rub my benis and so i wud get free wishes forever
>>5618388
*rubs your weenie*
wow that is a little boi weenie
very small indeed
>>5618388
Dubs! Wooh!
spikeman causes akari to fail life
>>5618356
._.
sticky this immediately
>>5618356
Just like Yuji Sakai lol
dumb frogposter
>>5618154
why did you screenshot your own two posts
LOLE!!!!!!!!!!!
>>5618154
Thank you for spreading awareness about the FPDF's presence on [s4s]! Try not to say "dumb frogpsoter" though ok? I'll just let you off with a warning this time :)
>>5618177
i don't get you guys. Do you only want to block rudeposters from saying anything about frogs? Because your leader told the OP of the loli thread to "fuck off and die"
do whatever you want whit this
>>5618024
>>5618130
How childish. Grow up, will you?