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/lit/ - Literature / Fanfic / Poetry

M-my hands are w-writing on their own~!
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So, I have decided to go through my stack of Stephen King again. So, what are you currently re-reading at the moment?
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Journey to the End of the Night. Don't think it'll ever stop being "my book".


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yo this is my opinion and it might be crazy because lots of people think that my opinions usually are (who i think are all insane btw),

but i really think that when people use hieroglyphics to communicate then they should have to deal with the perils of not having people understand them

..well, probably you disagree since you provided a response, so maybe, this post is pointless, except to express my opinion and make me feel better about myself… always question reality man


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私は、 "L E A V E SのH O U S E」を読んで再よ。


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再 is a prefix used with nouns. In this case you'd say something around the lines of 今はこの小説が再びを読みます instead.
誰も means "everybody" here, the word you're looking for is 誰か. Additionally, you can use 勧めしませんか instead of 勧めしますか because the latter sounds kinda pushy, which doesn't blend with the polite tone.

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What are your thoughts on The Fall by Albert Camus?

Here are some resources on it I would like to share with you:

- https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZQCsSuj3LgA (rare BBC documentary)

- https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fYuEwEhOzRs (a lecture about The Plague and The Fall. He starts talking about The Fall about halfway through.)

- https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b7UiShv7a8A (continuation of the previous lecture, entirely dedicated to The Fall.)


The Plague is a far better-written book while still containing a fair amount of symbolic substance. I can personally relate to The Fall more, but that's not the point.

The Plague is also better written than The Stranger, by quite a ways.

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Alright…So, I'm not really sure if this fits here, but it's a story I wrote. It's kinda short, but I hope you enjoy it.
I had to break it up into parts because the it was too long.
1 post omitted. Click reply to view.


It's eyes left hers for only a minute, and instead directed it's blank gaze to her hand.
It wrapped it's hand gently around her waist, and stabbed her with one long dirty fingernail.
Her head swirled as the blood seeped through her night clothes. She lost her breath, and the fire in her eyes. She was going to die. She was going to die. This was her end. After this, there would be nothing. There would only be darkness. In the face of death, her pride and ego meant nothing. Everything she thought was important fell, and crashed on the floor, sending shards of truth as sharp as glass hitting her face, scarring her happiness. She feared they would cut deeper than the teeth of this goddamned thing ever could. All she felt was regret now, an excruciatingly painful regret. More painful that the fingernail going through her stomach. She let out a scream, like an animal. A scream she never knew she was capable of making. But she didn't close her eyes. For she wasn't dead.
She hadn't lost yet, she still had her will to live. For she still had her good memories. Memories of her loved ones, of her dreams, of things she found hilarious. Yes, that's right. In the future, she was going to laugh at this memory. Laugh at the stupidity of the monster for underestimating her. Laugh at how she deemed it death. Her shaking hands that gained a new found strength gripped the scissors so tightly in her hand that blood ran down her fingernails. She mustered her courage, her strength, everything she had left, and swung. They cut the monsters cheek, so she swung again. Now knowing that the monster did in fact bleed, she dove the scissors deep into it's main eye. The monster let out a satisfying shriek, she smiled, and struck it again, and again. She eventually, seeing how weak it had become, leaped on top of it. Her scissors drenched in blood stabbed it everywhere. She didn't know whether or not it was dead, but she didn't care. She was getting her revenge! She giggled and giggled until her little laugh bellowed.
Until she finally stabbed it in the heart.
Until she noticed she was covered in it's blood.
Until she noticed it wasn't a monster.
But a human.

Her fear of the monster had turned her into the monster.


Aaaand that's it.
That's the end.
I hope you enjoyed reading it. Please inform me on what I should work on, and what you liked about it.
Thank you for reading.


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You find me in the deepest depths of the ocean. My lovely being floating brilliantly across shades of blue, I give a sense of calm to others. Like a single cloud in a wide blue sky, I stand out in a way where I almost seem like a dream. From afar, I'm beautiful, majestic…admired. My mysterious nature beckons some to come closer. If you happen to be one who comes closer, you will experience a sense of overwhelmation, a state of surreal intensity. A state where it's only you and I in this big blue, and the only thing that brings you even deeper into that intensity, so deep that it's painful, is the sharp stinging of my tentacles, as I swallow you up into my being, and devour on your every morsel, every secret. But by then, it's too late. Your being starts to go numb, as my deepest depths swallow you. As my world swallows you. As the bare bones of your being merely become a source of an energy to me. An energy I feel a never ending crave for. And once I'm finished with you, I swim deeper into the endless ocean, moving on. Never to be seen again by your eyes.

"What sea creature do you relate to most?"


Nice work, Dust. Keep it up.


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>Super old work being brought back up
T-thanks, Wilfre.

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What are your favourite books from your country?

Example: "Capitães da Areia" (Captains of the Sands) is my favorite brazilian book, it's a masterpiece from Jorge Amado. So, what are yours?
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The Great Gatsby. It's so god damn American and shows how bad that American culture can be.


My problem with Machado de Assis is that his books only gets interesting halfway through, like Dom Casmurro. Because of that, i prefer his tales.

Someone recommended me this book a while ago. It is really worth the reading?


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These children series. Today I found out the author is gay
WTF BROS https://www.instagram.com/thomasbrezina/


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it shocked me to the core, i read these books as a child a lot. oh nonono


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i wrote this for a roll story thread on /x/ that fell off the last page a month ago pls tell me what parts you hate most. (correct answer: all of them.)


I hate losing. It’s aggravating, humiliating. Like last night. My brother had his friends over, and I have mine over. I was supposed to go out, to the theater, but someone fucked the movie reels, and my and my friends’ plans were ruined. So we stay, and eventually everyone’s playing those party packages with a bunch of minigames, the four- and eight- player ones. We move on to Just Dance and DDR, and I do fine, well enough to keep my good mood. When everyone’s tired of jumping around, and most of them are sitting around snacking or going to the pool out back, my brother puts in Generic FPS 1000 and starts a little tournament. I join in, seeing as I’ve kicked his ass before and can certainly do so again. And I do.
But. His friends. They are so good at this game. It infuriates me. The first one absolutely wipes the floor with me, and I take it pretty well. I’m only a little ticked when the next tournament starts, a half hour later, and I get beat again. It’s un-fucking-believable how good they are. I’m shaking a little the third time, and when the guy who kicks my ass makes an offhand remark about how good I am for a girl, it’s all I can do to set the controller onto the coffee table and not into his eye socket.
I decide to go swim to cool off, but I’m still fuming. I was so goddamn stupid, thinking I could beat them just because I could beat my brother.
The little tournament ends around six, and they start playing zombie games. I figure, surely I’m good this. I play these enough on my own.
These fucking people. Now everyone else is playing, and some of the people who sat around snacking are kicking ass. The girl who drank most of my favorite soda got double my kill count. Game after game, I’m humiliated. How is this possible? How are they doing this? My score keep going lower and lower. It’s a fucking wonder they don’t all turn on me and laugh now. Or maybe they are, maybe everyone’s laughing and I can’t notice because I’m just doing that bad.
Later, much later, it's time for everyone to leave. My parets take my brother to drop off his one friend that lives in another suburb. I wait until I shut the door and the last person is out before I burst into tears. I can’t believePost too long. Click here to view the full text.
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I see one stumble through the bushes along the field and reach for my bow. I slip from under my blanket and creep closer, readying an arrow. I see its face and remember my brother's dying mask, twisted, sick, not immune. It lurches towards my little camp, moaning low but loud. I remember my brother's mindless humming and tears blur my vision.


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Still writing shitty first-draft OC.

The Long Claw

You stop, beside a stream, with your mate and child. You look back, at the valley far off, and think of home. Two other members of your group stand guard, scanning the trees. You wait, still wary of the darkening woods, for your mate and child to dip their mouths down to the water before you relax and bend for a drink. You lift your head just as one of the others touches you, taps you, and nods their head towards the low area behind you. You alert your mate and child, and everyone looks to the low space, to the edges of a clearing.
They are there, long-limbed, strangely tall, moving in your direction. Your group begins backing away slowly, moving to hide behind the bushes and trees, out of sight, when the things all suddenly crouch down, looking away from you. Seizing the moment, you spur your group away, fleeing as silently as possible from the idling threat.
You look back several times, and see nothing.
It is night already when you find a good cave, one with a wide but short entrance, but a comfortable space within. Your friends immediately lay down to sleep, tired from keeping many days' guard. You play with your child a little before it tires, and curls up to sleep beside your mate. You sit next to them, quietly watching the entrance, until your eyes begin to close.

A scratching sound wakes you. Eyes snapping open, you see it in the low moonlight - the long limb ending in the weirdly splayed paw, feeling around the cave mouth. Slowly and without a sound, you rouse your group, push them against the opposite side of the entrance. The thing's head appears around the bend, and you stifle a cry at the disgusting thing, smooth and furless, large white eyes searching; your comrades give you a look and you pass this to your mate, who holds the child closer. A moment, and then a flash of movement - all rush out, out and away, but the thing cries out and another appears, as if by magic, waving its long, long arms, unnatural claw lashing. There is a fire searing through your leg but you push your mate and child ahead; you feel as if you can not run, but you do, and the only time you look back, you see them, the things, tearing into your friend, your friends, twitching, the things, the thing, the one who looks up and back at you.

You stop, beside a stream, with your mate. It has been a few hours, and you listen ever vigilant to the sound of the Post too long. Click here to view the full text.


Found out five seconds after I posted that the correct term is "persistence hunting".


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Another /x/ roll story.


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Found a stupid passage I wrote angrily on the back of a napkin at work a few months ago.

…Indeed, the typical Wal-Mart customer is incapable of looking down, and does not believe that either the floor or the trash cans exist.
I recall one day long past in which I witnessed a legless man pulling himself around the store. Exhausted, he took his heavy basket off his back, and settled onto his chest to catch his breath. Terror overtook his features, and I rushed to ask him what was wrong. With a loud wailing and wringing of hands, he cried out: "I LAY, BUT I KNOW NOT WHAT ON."
I told him it was no great mystery, but he crumpled into tears. Shaking his head, he screamed at me, "THOSE ON LEGS CAN NOT UNDERSTAND SUCH PROXIMITY TO TERROR."
My attempts to comfort the man failed, and he left the store without purchasing anything.

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Trainspotting - Irvine Welsh:


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>teenage sex scenes written entirely in a broad Scots dialect
>the book


It's literally all he's ever written, but at least he's pretty good at it.


Watched the movie recently, its pretty good.

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Does the e/lit/e speak another language?

How and why did you learn it? How do you keep the level?
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germanfag here

"I will be for a bike trip"(lit.) doesn't really make sense. Do you mean to say "I suggest.." or "I'm going to.."?

+Ich wär für eine Radtour

+Ich werde eine Radtour machen


I think I was going for "I'm going for a bike ride."
Thanks for the help, there.
A lot of times I get confused on which words to use, and which situations I should use them in.


Don't bother with Spanish. It is the worst of the western languages. Go with German or some Escandinavian ones. Not kidding.



I'm >>455 and I agree with you. Worst language, worst translations, and the only cool point is that since it has latin roots is easier to learn French, Italian, etc.


No probs
Got steam or something? I know that german can be tough for some people so I could impart my wisdom if need be

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This was what happened, critiques are totally acceptable.
Original thread: http://www.ponychan.net/chan/chat/res/40976044.html
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>Now I'm getting complaints from the other board's owner that his board is under attack

Since when posting in a thread is considered an attack? And wouldn't that make every anon who posted (either from here or there) a culprit as well? Including the other board's mods that were laughing in that thread.


>Ponychan under attack
>From Ubuu
lol we dont even have youtube


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This thread isn't the attack. Someone's been putting gorespam on their email, and some faggot is starting autism battles in their IRC channel. I figured it would be better to just make this thread gracefully disappear since it seems to be the starting point for all this.


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I wrote a poem…
I hope you guys find it interesting…
not that turned to toiling discussed || those which take decision of metallic indifference
whilst gleaning knowledge from naught what forces || proliferating innocence skepticism despised
the ideals placed in such regard || when none found to take it
placed of circumstance but not situation || wrought the furnace’s child born
correctly in empathy not knowledge given || inseminate germane ideas in womb
mind peace allows not the inverse || conflict of factual rather than supposed
allow that then one can refuse not || visceral notion spilling viscera if not placated
forgotten to rust affecting flower and flora || imposed air parasitic in nature
posed normality a risk as correctness of diplomatic || interest feigned gave before compassion
apathy superseded || judicial intervention bypassed by jury
Windows to which one can see the outside from within: A situation misguided and hopefully lost.

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Okay, I write pretty regularly. Lately, though, I've been experimenting with more stuff that evokes a little bit of eroticism in depictions of youth, preteens. I think I'm seeing how far I can go in order to prepare for a story I'm planning about a hikikomori girl, without making it come off as pervy (there will be situations where she's judging her body in a mirror).

But these stories probably *do* come off pervy. Uboachan should eat them up! So, enjoy.

Tell me if you think they're obvious pedo-glorification, or if they come off as sappy or clunky, or if you honestly enjoy it. I'm not planning on doing anything with these stories, just doing some writing exercise.

This one's rather long, 4,000 words, and is kinda sappy, but tell me what you think:



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And here's a second one, much shorter, and a little darker.


If this topic is too borderline, feel free to delete it. Just putting my stuff out there in an arena I feel comfortable with.


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I'm not a writer so I can't give any crit, only praise.

I love your stories. I don't see anything pervy in them. The ending to the first was a little cliche, but not terribly.
I can't say I was too excited for yet more media about men and young (semi-)naked magical/mystical not-men at first, but I enjoyed reading them a lot, especially Channeling Dolores.


Why thank you! I just happened to check back on this thread and saw your comment.

Glad you liked it! I just re-read Channeling Dolores again, and yeah, the ending does come off as kinda sappy, but not nearly as bad as I initially feared.

Thank God it doesn't come off as pervy (whew!)


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Slow board, eh? Anywho, I'm back. Here's another piece I wrote (not recently; rather around the same time I wrote the other two). It's super short, meandering, and is sort of an attempt to encourage debate.

I've also re-uploaded the other two, since they've since expired:

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