ITT: Post an extract of your writing/others say if it'd

The crow, it crawk an scraw, fidgeting soil branch pile in Winter horizon burn. Locked frost and not a moss, the crow, it skwoh and squawk, diddled like not the bird can also be retarded, seasons rotund bi-cycle silo, what the fuck does it know. Not where the berries is, nigger.

>>9438296
I want my 5 seconds back.

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Crackle jaw smacked rough and raw,
Crystal palace crumbled teeth like Alice,
Cautious, not caught, triple locked door,
Rumpy-pomp sweat on dick like ballast,
Baby girl next door she sleep deep,
Dick up inna bitch de guts squirt fuck juice,
High nigga HaHa we high beepity beep,
Her girl dumb like her momma loose.

Rickety ricket wrackety wrackety roo,
spring pinch spiral shatter spine fucked,
bed break, high intake, fucked her too,
Blue diamond little pill syringe tucked.
Stick it sponge leak creak-creak who is it,
Skrrrt skrrrit skrit French maids anime,
Adelaide, was that her name? Shit,
This bitch, she better have my Monet.

To make the greatest mystical soul possible, God increases the amount and quality of God nodes(Holy SPIRIT) within the soul by altering its information infrastructure. We start with a single node and then expand that number to our Aleph Set(or infinitely expansive self-multiplication). We then add parallel Aleph sequences based on each previous iteration. Imagine a tree of flowering God nodes with each step growing in size with each passing step. We then take the Sum of those sets, apply the Omega sequence to it and continue this process infinitely.

Next, we fulfill the pattern of sympathy. Each God node empathizes with you, and what are you doing in this state? Knowing each God node. Each God knows all and every God node. The process continues and each God node knows that all God nodes know one another. The soul empathize with each new point of sympathetic harmony producing a greater harmony and awareness. This greater unity is then spread throughout itself to produce even greater unities and awareness’s. The process continues infinitely. The process of empathy then spreads outside of itself abstractly, to produce an even greater unity within itself. An explosive outpouring of unified Light or Holy SPIRIT.

hey its a me, the cool guy

>>9438337
Based

>>9438289
“What am I supposed to make of this?” Martin asked, after Loney finished reading it.
He didn’t answer for a while, but looked from Martin back to the sheets again, frowning as his eyes scanned back-and-forth between lines. The bedroom noises were faintly growing louder, Martin had noticed as he struggled to ignore it and read. They’d been at it for hours, surely.
“Can we go?” he asked, exasperated.
“Don’t you have to write something?” Loney replied. Martin was growing more irritable by the minute, he just wanted to get out: the noises, the awful smell, the very atmosphere of the house felt like it was going to envelope him and lock him away forever. He snatched a pen lying on the coffee table and scribbled a quick note at the end of verse she’d written:

Not sure if you were intending to write that in meter, if so, you might want to rework some of your syllables. Otherwise, it’s a creative approach to a familiar story, nice flow to your rhyme.

He flipped over the sheets and wrote at the end of the prose part:

Unintelligible. Sorry, I don’t understand what you were trying here. Quoting Chaucer is such a way is unnecessary; I advise removing this entire written entry, and just have your verse.

Martin dropped the pen on the table and shot to his feet. The noises were becoming unbearable. “We’re going, now.”
Loney hurried on after him. The rain hadn’t let up, and so they walked out of that dim house straight into a heavy downpour of a Saturday afternoon. Martin swung the door behind him as he waited for Loney to pass through. He felt better almost instantly: the roar of the torrent drowned out all traces and memory of the primal that rung in his ears; the smell too, as though the waters had washed away the smut that permeated his senses. Martin felt like he’d escaped a fog of murk and mire, standing at least only to the mercy of the season.
The two of them hurried to Martin’s car and jumped in.
“Where to?” he asked.
“Dunno,” Loney shrugged. “I’m usually at home on Saturdays.”
“Well, don’t know about you, but I’m hungry.” He grinned at Loney, sparking the ignition and pulling into reverse.

>>9438320
Sounds like Nick Cave having an aneurysm.

>>9438353
fuck I meant:

*after* he waited for Loney to pass through

Ja Ja Ja that bitch she call me a fuckin fuck up cunt cock suck wanker who does nothin all day so i say wow sometime but sarcastically yea well one day thay bitch YA'Honderay she shout in the campus "sorry, you're not allowed to the partay, the soiree" in her tweed fuckin winter sweater vest santa claus fuckin rudolph the red nosed vag fuck on the front oh and btw santa is a black man.

I tell her she a bitch a witch a mega cinch because anyone could fuck that ho haha but she say "fuck you" so I just gotta say I tell her, I told her WOW you're so mature how about go and listen to some cool jazz dave brubeck age of the cool miles davis era 1950s segregation-is-cool-now trumpet honk honk suck a fuckin dick while paying for that dick sayin sorry your ancestors were oppressive even tho u aint white motherfuck you ancient indian you from fuckin punjabiland you dumb fuck go buy a crossley vinyl player u fuckin pseudo-intertwat fuck and be a lesbian too. btw dad says give me 10 bucks so i can get lunch you fat fuck the burrito place shut down because of u xxxoooxxxooo happy birthday

>>9438320
Could be Burroughs for all I know.

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>>9438368
> even tho u aint white motherfuck you ancient indian

>>9438353
Writing is a bit dull and needs working on but whatever it is you're talking about is interesting

>>9438320
> Alice/Ballast
> fuck juice/momma loose
> anime/Monet
> Cautious, not caught


Genuinely admirable. Would imagine these to be lyrics to something like Death Grips. Would read more.

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that bitch, she bishious
that bitch, she bishious
she bishious, dumb bitch
she a bishious dumb ass bitch

trappin up like for sho
yea yea yea yea yea
bitch she comin like for mo
yea yea yea yea yea
wantin them dumb shit dones
she a bitch, a bitch wit no funds

>>9438320
This is actually unironically good.

>>9438320
I want a book written like this.

The Plant Man arrived before daybreak at the piazza and took his usual place at the foot of the fountain. He produced from his bag a heavy suit of leaves and stepped nimbly into it, the centripetal tank within weighing on him somewhat. He fondled around his back until his hands ran across the pipe. Once in hand, he strapped it to the holder in his head.
He took then from his bag a flowery tray, adorned with red plastic amaryllis, and secured it around his abdomen with the harness. He held the tubes hanging limply at his side and fixed them securely into holes at each side of the tray’s basin. Finally, he took from his bag a flowery headdress and wore it. The lim flowers hung down and obscured his neutral face. He was ready to begin.

>>9438320
If Pynchon was a rapper

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>>9438289
>extract
>not "excerpt"