I'm 19 years old. I am handsome, smart, athletic and virile.

P sure it's been about a year since I've seen this copypasta. Tnks fr the mmrs senpai

>>9605129
Me too but I'm 15

>>9605129
why at my expense? unless you're taking money from the gov' you're not living on my expense

Depth and profundity mean the same thing, change that part the next time you post it.

>>9605129
Wow You're literally me at 12

File: OrigCash.jpg (45KB, 600x622px) Image search: [Google]

45KB, 600x622px

Hi, my name is John

Post the one where anon admits all these pastas are pessonian

>>9605129
Are you the fat guy or the manlet?

baiting hard

>>9605129
>a creative writing professor at my college has read the first draft and thinks it's saleable.


wow....yeah, then it's bound to be gold.

>>9605129
totally forgot about this pasta. thanks, fambly.

It's sad how few people on /lit/ have actually lived. I mean really lived. There are so many aspiring writers here who haven't even left their own country, or have only left it to holiday with family in their youth. There are people here who have not experienced a series of tumultuous relationships, people who have not hitchhiked for hundreds of miles in whatever direction suits them best that moment, people who have not found themselves drinking hard liquor with a gang of strangers at 2am in a city they can't even remember the name of. Me? I've done all these things. I've traveled the lonesome highways, caught trains and buses and sat shivering and damp in the passenger seats of cars belonging to people who told me more about life than the lonely and callow narcissists on this board ever have. I've gazed lovingly into the eyes of women who taught me the ineffable secrets of their mysterious sex. I've worked more jobs I can remember and learned more skills than I will ever need. I have made friends and enemies from coast to coast and experienced more emotional peaks and valleys than most people here can even comprehend. How can you guys even call yourselves writers when you haven't even mastered the world about which you are intending to write? How can you expect anybody to take your writing seriously when you have experienced barely more than a child afraid of what lies beyond the boundaries of his comfortable little world? My writing flows with an assurance that reflects my own internal state. The dialogue I write is representative of the parlance of the man on the street, not the child in the abstract universe you have concocted to compensate for the fact that the world outside your window terrifies and confuses you. When I write a profound sentence I do it knowing I will be understood and admired not only by the academic whiling away a quiet afternoon in his armchair, but also for the orphaned young man working sixty hours a week as a knuckle-puller in a Sheboygan abattoir. And all this at the age of nineteen, my literary life almost entirely ahead of me, several USBs hanging from my keychain full of stories that would no-doubt make the pale and sheltered suburbanites that browse this board gasp in incredulity. Next month I move to New York to begin a degree in English Literature, focusing on creative writing. The professor phoned me as soon as he had read my application to ask that I choose his university (it's one of the best in the country, why wouldn't I?) with the promise that he will personally guide me over the next three years, or however long it's going to take for me to get my first book out there. Have you lived /lit/? I mean, really lived?

>>9605336
Nah man, I got food, shelter, bills to pay.

"C'mon anons on /lit/ ain't you got a life to live?"
>ain't nobody got time for that shit
>maybe when I'm not struggling to keep ahead of the bills by a few dollars in a month, I'll go do that life thing

I think this is my favorite pasta

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945KB, 1675x939px

>>9605336

>>9605336

Spiritual materialism.

>>9605336
>really lived
I'm more interested in people who have really died 2bh

>>9605129

>pic related, it's me and my bitch