WOJAK CONSIDERS THE FRISBEES Over the window sheets taped up

File: eaZrosc.png (363KB, 5000x5000px) Image search: [Google]

363KB, 5000x5000px

>>9053167

WOJAK REMEMBERS THE TIME HIS FATHER BANNED HALO AND SHOWED HIM ROTIFERS


In the trippy gif looped farmhouses unravel to lobes of water. School
four hours away and still awake, Wojak leans forehead
to screen —Pepe do you remember

my father said no Halo all weekend, pinched a thimbleful of dirt he scratched
from a tarp laid over the Sunfire out back, and pricking
that pipette, proboscis

like a needle, said Wojak, Wojak fetch me a slide out my work drawer
and we’ll resurrect rotifers
over root beer

—Pissed you were Wojak [*froggy tongue knocks on bed slats*] when Xbox
live cut out, all jittery and junky-lipped we withdrew, felt
like nerve roots

shucked from their casings and [*wince*] crushed —Oh god at his microscope I sat
while the clan match raged through the cloud without
me, thinking about the black

half of the moon closing its aperture on my gamertag —Did he [*pond breath
methane-hot in the ear*] press your eye
to the glass? —He pressed

my eye to the glass [*paisley chunks of clarity against the cornea*] he said tell me
what you see —What did you see?
—Nothing

meaningless little lives. He said, his shoulder against mine, aren’t they like water
wheels, brooms or palm trees? I turned
the knob,

Burial Mounds’ cliffs burnished rust on my brain, and a thinness twisted,
broke within me while I watched rotifers
writhe in utter

anonymity. I wanted my screen back. I wanted my gun back —An updraft
[*nose slits tighten*] something clear
and powerful

blew to burst the tiny wingspan of Wojak’s lil heart, didn’t it
darling? You saw —I saw
nothing

—You saw darkly then what comes to focus now thru hindsight’s immersion
oil: you wasted a dead dad bonding afternoon dreaming of
Halo. Boo hoo

the internet is full of afternoons.

File: jIdfjht.jpg (154KB, 500x496px) Image search: [Google]

154KB, 500x496px

>>9053176

PEPE WALPURGISNACHT


I pluck the moon’s scalpel and run it across
my wrist. Diarrhea spritz dapples Rorschach brown
across the mirror. This is the life

of endless chicken tendies, mommy always
waiting at the door with a tray of ranch dipping cups
and iodine swabs for when I get hungry

or nuts. Chastity cage Wojak beneath the bed
can’t break his restraints to dull my hootenanny—bliss
to fill a jug with piss and rub one out

to the waifu, leave a curled surprise for mommy
under her pillow. Shit-posting all Saturday night,
I froggy dance around this screen’s digital bon fire

dreaming my poopoo-toad anime trickster god dreams,
a whole terabyte of porn straight to the dome
gets me seeing what the meme-shaman sees: clouds

like cum-rags hardened to solid platinum,
the only currency accepted in the Pepe planetarium:
look at that constellation: spatter of tad poles

across the zenith right from the head of my amphibian
penis! I’m a four-finned smug surf-and-turfer
with a nose for farts, my thumb and pointer finger

wrenched into an OK-pinch at my lips. Trench coat popped,
tapping my crocs, my haunches split and kicking,
I leap and piss and prance for the Pepe Walpurgisnacht!

File: 12d.jpg (31KB, 567x561px) Image search: [Google]

31KB, 567x561px

>tfw 2 dumb for complex memes

File: LKHltKf.jpg (29KB, 499x499px) Image search: [Google]

29KB, 499x499px

>>9053167

PEPE REMINDS WOJAK OF THE DISSECTION

Pepe reminds Wojak of the dissection


—At fifteen—do I say or sing?—I rubbed
the cap til whicker bristled beneath every pixel
of Sasha Grey’s bouncing

shoulders. Pepe, I am my own heroin,
and whatever salty ramen water remains in me I’ll squeeze
out in her honor —Don’t take

it to —Heart? My mother’s son, me, I’m rat shit
velcroed to the hem of her dress. Wriggling
free I

fall through the private self-shamed unsafe spaces
right back to the laptop, the bathroom, my desperate girly
come cries

shooshed against my hoodie sleeve —Wojak
you make lil Pepe cry. You make lil Pepe cry! You suck
a weeping

from the pores of my skin! Remember
my fins pinned to the metal table . . . they put the scalpel
in your hand —I took it

in my hand. I said I can’t. I won’t. Nothing’ll
make me cut open
my Pepe’s cream belly. Nothing —But

my terror-face, you did it anyway —Anyway . . . anyway . . . after school
I walked through bus gas fumes, through the door
of my latch-key life,

into the chair, the open and opening screen —Into her arms, Wojak,
into her arms! Let go again and fall

for me.

File: ddbBmPe.png (142KB, 400x372px) Image search: [Google]

142KB, 400x372px

PEPE'S ULTIMATUM / WOJAK'S DREAM


[*cursor blinking*]

Dangling out the screen [*sigh*] my miscarried
legs kick rain. Nowhere
bore me to nowhere . . . and dry grows every bed.

—You’ll never [*yawn*] get likes
like that [*wields
Wojak’s fleshlight like a bat*] wanna know, my unborn youtube

star, [*swings*] how to stop staring and get inside the screen? [*cocks
fleshlight, takes
aim*] Go out with a bang and the news’ll
turn your face to tweets—think what gnashing of

mice, your mother, your father keyboard-bent like you, grief
posting, heads turned to hospitals! What
went

wrong!? —No Pepe, no I kill
nothing but time, I make live nothing but mold in the shower, moths
beneath the bed, ticks I’m too —Dead? [*winds

up*] you know who’s dead? You know how many you Wojaks have poleaxed
pink, how many buried, strung
up to catch

the wind thru leaves . . . no, no unbloodied land left to stand
on no more. So don’t [*bonk*] play dove
with me,
darling. Love and let love or pick up

the AR-15 [*hands off fleshlight, slaps fins
round Wojak’s shins and curls up like a graveyard*] —Pepe, my honest maker [*eyeing
the tight opening*] my hate-
machine, I confess
that in the dream I stand on the childhood beach high
as my mother’s cut-offs. Moon

falls on strips of foam I realize are not made of white wash
but guns—muzzles, butts, triggers grating together:
one deafening liquid rolling

in forever. I bend down —You bend down? —I bend down in the dream,
pick a single bullet from between
my toes.

I bring it to my ear. I want to tell my mother —That you hear the ocean, Wojak?
—No that I hear nothing but the metal’s
desperate

breath.

>>9053204
These are some pretty hard memes.

This is the most /lit/ thing I've seen in ages

>>9053191
if you can't take the heat go back to r/lit

File: mmmmmm.png (14KB, 272x273px) Image search: [Google]

14KB, 272x273px

mmmmmmmmmmmmmmm