,,ィ"/"ｲ´￣｀｀`ヽ､
　　　　　 　 ／　　　　　　　　　　　 ｀ヽ､
　　　　　 /　　_＿__　ヽ　__　　/　/　　　ヽ
　　　　　＞-（　／　）ゝｧ､ ヽノ_ノ＞-､＿ノ
　　　　（フ`ヽ`'　　 ゝ-'　　ｨ__,,ゝ´´ヽ:::::;;二≡彡
　 __ノ::/　　　　/　　| ヽ　　　　　　　.ﾍ"　　 ﾉﾉ
　 ''ヾ./　/ 　 /-　 ﾊ ',‐‐-､､　　　　　 ヾ,,,ノ.,,
　　　;　 ;　　/_ ',　{　ヽ､＼ヽ　　　　　　　ヾ=''
　　　{　.{　　lｲﾐ ヽ| .ｨ=ｧ=ﾐ .ヽ　　　　　　　 ヽ　　　　　 ＿＿　,,ｨ'"´￣｀｀ヽ､
　　　',　 ',　ﾊ.､ﾘ　　 : {''i!:）ﾐ ﾉ　　　　　　　 ﾊ',　　 ,,ｨ''´:::::::::／::::／￣｀ヽ::::::ヽ
　　　　ヽﾉ　.ｿ `　　　 `‐"´/　　　　　　　 ﾊ　）　/::::::r''"＞'..--'　 ）　　　ヽ::::.}
　　　　ノｨ　 ヽ　 ─‐ｧ　 ィ/　　　　　 ／ノ ソ　 .{::::::（,ノ´: : : : : ノ--､　　 .}:::::}
　　--ィ .{　　　＼ ヽ_ﾉ　_,//　／ノ∨　　　　　　.',:::::ヽ-=--＜､､___,,ィ'´　.,':::::,'
　　　　　 ｀ヽヽソﾘ`─ﾍ´ （ ./-''"＞､　　　　　　 ヽ::::::ヽ　　　　　　　　　/:::::/
　　　　, .ヘ　　　　 _,〉 〉-''"　／´　　.|　　　　　　　ヽ:::::::ヽ　　　　　　　/:::::/
　 r''"　　　｀>　　／_Ｙ_,,､. ／　　　　 {ヽ　　　　　　　 ヽ:::::ヽ　　　　　 /:::::/
　/ ｨ丿 ／´　|／´_,/　}ゝ〈　　　　　　〉ﾍ　　　　　.　　　ヽ::::ヽ 　　　 ｲ::::/
　`=="ﾍ　　　＼　ィ∨　　 }　　　_,, .ｲ　 ﾍ　　　　　　　　　Ｙ:::',　　 ｲ::::/
　　　　 /　_／　|　　ﾘ 　　 ｿ　　--''"　　.ﾍ__　　　　　　.　 |:::::|　 /:::::/
　　　　￣|　　_ノヽ､ﾉ､__／　　　 /　　　　/　｀,　　　　　　 .}:::::}／:::／
　　　　　 | ＜ ／　　ﾘ |　./　　 /　　　　/　 /　　　　＿__,/::／:::／
　　　　　 ∨　ヽ' ヽ-｀>!ノ　　 /　　　　__,,ノ-＜ヽ''"　　ノ／:::／　 ｀`ヽ､
　　　　　 .<　　　 丿 //　　 ./.|　　　／ /　 ／　　　　ｨ::::::／　　　　　　 ｀`ヽ､
　　　　　　　＼　　 /.ｲ　　　　/　　/　ノ　　　　　　　　 ""　　　　　　　　　　　｀ヽ
　　　　　　　　 ヽ ｲ　.|　　　　}｀ﾍ"ィ"丿　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　＼
　　　　　　.　 　 　 　 |　　　 /　{　 ／／　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　 >ｲ）
　　　　　　.　 　 　 　 |　　　.{＿ゝ'ィ´ -==--'''"´´　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　-r､）

　　 i　　　　|　　　　 　 ,. -､　 　　　 , -､　　　　　　　　　　　　　|
　　.||　　　　　　　　 　（ 　（）´￣￣｀'ヽｿ　　　　　　　/）　 　 |　|
　　 |　　　 (＼ 　　　/´ ｀"´　　　　　　八　　　　　　　　　 　 　 ! 　 ||
　　　 　　　　　 　　 l　　　 　_,,..　-‐:::'':::"´￣｀"'::.､　　　／）　　:　　|
　　　　　　　　　　　ﾊ,.. -''"´'"´￣￣｀ヾ￣｀ヽ;::::::::::ヽ.
　　i.　⊂　　 　,..::'"´:::::／　 ／　 　 　 　 　　　 ＼:::::::!
　　||　 　　 ／::::::::::::::/　　 /　/　　 ,/ 　ﾊ 　 i　　 ＞'´￣＼　　ブ
　　　　　　,'::;::- ､::::::/　 ／! 　!　.／ |　/｀'!　/　 i　 |　　　　 ',　　　ン
　　　　　　∨　 　｀' ｰ＜.　|　 ﾚ｀ヽ、ﾚ'　　|,ﾊ　 /　/　　　　　|、 ヽ.
　　　　　　 .ﾄ、 　　　　　 `⊂⊃'"´｀　 　＜ |／ﾚ'／ 　　 　 　 〉 　',　ヽ.
　　/　　　./ 　＼　　　　　 　｀ヽ.　 , --、 　,ﾊ|／　　 　 　　／　 　 !　　!
　　!　　　 | 　　　　　　　　　 　　|＞ｧ‐─＜ﾊ」　　　　　　/´ ﾊ　 　 |
　　! 　 　∧　　　　　、　　　 　｀ﾒ´￣￣｀ヽﾚ' __,,.. -‐''"´　　　|　　 ,'
　　'、　　　ヽ--─''"´￣ヽ-- イ　　　ヽ.　 Y´　　＼　　 ﾊ　　 |　　　 /
　　　　　!| 　ﾄ 、　__.ノ　　　／|ﾊ　　　　 ＼ヽ.　　　｀"´　 |/　 ! 　 ／
　 　　 　 |. 　'、　 　　 　 　 　 |7!　　　　_,,,.. -＼ 　 　 　 / 　.,'
　　　　|　', 　　 ､　 ｀'' ｰ　　　,'イ"´￣´_,,..-‐＜ﾉ　　　　　　 /
　　　　　　' 、　　＼.　 　 　 /／￣￣　　　　　ヽ. 　 　 　 ／　　|
　　　　 '、 　＼. 　 　 　 　 /　　　　　　｀"　　　 ﾊ-‐ ''"´ 　 |
　　　　　　 　 　｀ ァｰ-‐ｧく　　　　　 　　　　_＿_./　　 　 　l |
　　　　ブ　　 　　/::::ｒ'´7　 ｀ 7ｰ----‐ ｧ"´/　　　 |　　　　　:
　　　　　ン　　　 'ｰ-‐''´＼ ./` ｰ--‐／￣/　　　　|| 　 　 　 i
　　　　　　　　　　　　 　 　ヽ. 　　 ／　　./　　　 　 |　　　　　|
　　　　　　　　　　　 　　 　 　`ー' ` ー '"

　　　ｒ─-- ､..,,___　　　　 　____　　　　 _,,... -‐‐┐
　　 /::::::::::::::::::::::::::＞ --‐'´─‐`--＜:::::::::::::::::::::|　　　　,i｀ｰ､
　　 |::::::::::::::::::ゝ'"　　　　　　　　　　　 ｀`''ｰ-‐ｧ::|　　　　/ ∠_ノヽlヽ＿/ヽ、
　　 |::::::::ヽ／　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　 く::::7　　　/／!　l´￣|　「´|　ｌ
　　 !::::::::/　 　 ／ /　　/　 ,　 /　,　　 i　　　!　ヽ!　　　＿_」　L/ヽ|　|　|　|
　　 ｀ヽ7 　　 ,' 　/ 　 /‐‐/-./　/:|　　|‐-　/　 　i　　　￣´l　,l_￣ !　!　!　!
　　　　,!　　　i 　,'　　/i __」__ |　/:::|　/」_　/|　　 　',　 　 　/ ﾉヽﾞヽ.|　|_.」　|
　　　 ﾉ:|　　 ﾉ　i　　,ｱ´ ,.-､`ﾚ':::::::ﾚ´,.-､`i::|　 i　　,ゝ　　,ノノ´　 ヽ-'ｰ''￣ｰ'
　　 く__,|　∠___,!　/::!　 ! l |　 　　　　|.l |　!:|　,ﾊ　i
　　　く__!　　　　|/i::::::　ヽ-'　 　　::.　 `'´　::|/／ﾚ'　　　　　, 、　 ＿,ｨ‐､
　　　　 ,!　　　 |　⊂⊃ 　 　　 _____　 　⊂⊃:!　　　　　　　l､_二-ｧ　 ,r'
　　　　ｲ 　i　　|　　|.　　　　 /´￣｀i　　 　,ﾊ｀ヽ　　　　　　 　　／ ／
　　　　/　 |　ハ　　ﾄ 　　 　 !.,____ﾝ 　 ,.イ:::::i::::::〉　　　　　　／ _,-ニ_｀ｰ､
　 |＼〈 　,.へ,,!ﾍﾊ 　|ヽ. ｀''=ｰ-r‐ｧ＜´レi:::/､(　　　　　　r'´,／＿ 　 ｀}　ﾞl
　 |ヽ　)ヽ/　 　　 ヽﾉ､ ｀`'''ｰ-r'　|::::::/ 　ﾚ'::::::ヽ,　　　　　｀ｰ'f´r‐､ヽ､ﾉ　ﾉ
　 ＼　ヽ,i 　　　　　　 ';::＼／i｀ヽ!:::::i　　　　　:::::i.　　　　 　 　｀ｰニ--‐'´
　　__＼ ﾉ　　　　,　　 ﾉ::（_ンﾊ､_）::::ﾉ　 　　　　 ::|　　　　　-‐､、
　　＼二,ゝ､r､,.-'^ｰｒ':::::::::::/::::!::::::::ゝ､r､/　　　,ﾝ　　　　 /　r
　　　 ∠____,.ﾍ.　　　|:::::::::::::::::::i::::::::｀/　 ｀ヽｧ'"　　(ﾞ-─′ﾆ'ヽ｀ヾヽ､
　　　　　　　,.::'"￣｀ヽ､____;;::-─-､/.,______/　　　　 ｰﾌ ./　 }　| 　l　ヽ
　　　　　 /:::::::::::::::::::i::::::ヽ､:::::::::;:イ´:::::::::::｀ヽ.　　　　/. /　 /　|-＝､_ﾉ
　　　　／ヽ:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::`:::::/::::::::::::::::::::::::::::':,　　r'　/､ｰ'′/

We're moving a light speed!

　　　　　(￣￣￣）
　　　　　(二二二)　　 ／￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣
　　　　　（　・∀・）　＜　I am the Genie!
　　　　　（　　　　）　　|　I have come to observe the finale!
　　　　　 （　　（~　　　＼＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿
　　　　　　 ~）　 ）
　　　　　　 ( (~~
　　　　　　　V
　　　　　 （￣￣）
　　　　　　 ）　（
　　　　　 /====ヽ
　　　　　（＝＝＝）
　　　　　 ヽ＿＿/

Can you make me disappear?

>>14
　　　　　(￣￣￣）
　　　　　(二二二)　　 ／￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣
　　　　　（　・∀・）　＜　Granted, you have now disappeared!
　　　　　（　　　　）　　|　You're blind, deaf, have no senses left not even of your own internal body workings -- not even your own thoughts and feelings. Total disappearance of you.
　　　　　 （　　（~　　　＼＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿
　　　　　　 ~）　 ）
　　　　　　 ( (~~
　　　　　　　V
　　　　　 （￣￣）
　　　　　　 ）　（
　　　　　 /====ヽ
　　　　　（＝＝＝）
　　　　　 ヽ＿＿/

I want Dick Chaney to be spit roasted in hell. Of course, I mean the sex act, but with two demons with fiery dicks raping him for eternity.

　　　　　(￣￣￣）
　　　　　(二二二)　　 ／￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣
　　　　　（　・∀・）　＜　>>16
　　　　　（　　　　）　　|　Granted, he will be raped by Al Gore and Bill Clinton, the knights of hell!
　　　　　 （　　（~　　　＼＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿
　　　　　　 ~）　 ）
　　　　　　 ( (~~
　　　　　　　V
　　　　　 （￣￣）
　　　　　　 ）　（
　　　　　 /====ヽ
　　　　　（＝＝＝）
　　　　　 ヽ＿＿/

>>16
>>17
Dick-on-dick action!

Saying they aren't real implies that words on the internet don't have any effect, but they do, they invoke responses in people whether they like it or not.

It should be more like, "they don't actually know who you are, so don't think too hard about it"

>>18
Then stay in your little safe space, crybaby. Lighten up, and toughen up.

i see this question asked a lot
i dont know the answer but i try to not engage with that type of person if i can

"You're such an asshole!" Thank you! Nice guys don't get laid -- and don't get paid much, either; yes, I would like fries with that, SUCKER!!

>>19
It only intensifies the wrong headed attitude that the virtual world isn’t ‘real.’ Signs, symbols, words, and images shape our experience and comprehension of the world, they don’t exist in some separate plane that’s inconsequential. As life has become more and more dominated by mediated images, eroding the line between real and fake, the “toughen up and ignore it because it’s not real” attitude is like closing your eyes and pretending things aren’t there. Nowadays, fictions can become as real as any physical thing and video or sound bite can alter the world you live in.

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Checkmate
Black wins!

こわい

I sat alone in the opera house, the lanterns dimming with scarce oil.
I had been awaited the entertainment for hours, the write of the play for years.
Before I drifted into my dreams the curtains were drawn agape.
The stage, illuminated but lifeless, did all but intrigue.

An actor took the stage, masked and swaddled with cloth.
He was soon accompanied by and elderly woman, who comforted him and clothed him.
The woman then lay with a rose, and ascended by ropes beyond my view.
The actor, distraught, sent himself off the stage as the light dimmed to dark.

When the illumination returned, the actor was received into the home of strangers.
As he enjoyed the years of blessing from his caretakers, the theme slowly devolved into poverty.
An argument ignited between the man and his wife over their dependent as the lights signaled the shift from night to morn.
The lights focused on the actor, his head concealed in a sack and his limbs in bondage: He was pushed inanimate into a well.

The church bell was rolled onto the stage.
For whom the bell tolled I was certain.
The theater quickly gained shade as the room went void around me.
I arose and gave my homage to the actors who had played role in my story.




(this isn't that, given more time I could have made something better.)

You don't need to worry about anything ever again. I'm worried enough about you as I'm always watching.

A creeping crawl about the ground.
I could not mistake that baleful sound.
A figure arose to speak a word.
Its opaque self foggy and blurred.
I knew my thread had been overtaken,
the moment I saw its eyes awaken.
At least I heard that fateful squeel,
"Don't think, feel...
and∵be..∴∵∴
∴∵∵tanasinn∴∵∴
　　∵∴∵∵∵

He really wished he hadn't left the beaten path within the cave.

There wasn't much light, and it didn't seem like his voice was carrying properly. The air was somewhat stale and smelled unhealthy, but there was clearly still a link to the surface world. He was exhausted, dizzy, hungry, and he had given into the temptation to drink some of the liquid he was half-submerged in after the tenth hour of his ordeal.

What a mistake. His guts felt like they were on fire. He would have been better off dying of thirst.

Still, his friends should have called for help. He wasn't alone in his journey. Over ten hours, and he heard no signs of anyone searching for him. Did they just leave? Bastards.

He was certain he was going to die here in a slurry of rotten water, soaked in his own wastes, too exhausted to even scream.

He saw visions. Beautiful angels with rotting wings seemed to show him the way, but every time his hand slapped upon the rough walls in the darkness, the visions faded and the handholds he thought were there were nothing but delusions.

As the hours passed, as the hope faded, as the aches and nausea increased without limit, he wondered if he would even die.

He wondered if he was already dead. Maybe he was in hell. His laughter was weak. There was no joy in it, just a resigned acceptance of his fate.

His best friend cried out, "Oi, we found him!"

Too late.

Burn the Mormons too!

Nobody likes it when you're right, especially when they're wrong.

The truth is never popular, because it upsets the ego: "I've got it all sorted out, you can trust me". Truthtellers get subjected to egoic delusion unraveling, it threatens the half-truths and whole-lies they've spun for themselves, which to them is like dragging someone naked through the marketplace, nobody likes that! It's known in psychology as The Backfire Effect.

So never argue with the fool: plant seeds of truth when the time is right, and let it be. Today they insult you, tomorrow they mock you, in a year or ten years or perhaps another lifetime entirely they're repeating your words as if they had discovered them all on their own.

Born to walk against the wind, I fight the world and take all they can give; even as I stand alone, my spirit shall crush their hearts of stone; those who laugh and crowd the path, and cut each others' throats, will fall like melting snow.

I wish I felt numb again. Not feeling anything is blissful, to be a cracked gong that makes not a sound no matter how hard it's hit. But I only ever achieved that by heavily drugging myself. I hate feeling burning hate and icy rage in between deep depression doldrums where nothing grows but the sadness and ennui. I can't handle rawdogging reality anymore. Give me the artificial void of inner nonexistence, or at best a facsimile thereof. The rare good feels I do experience are not worth the vast majority of negativity engulfing me. I'm tired of feeling, I'm tired of thinking, I'm tired of being tired, I'm tired of being, I'm tired of going through all the trouble of survival for no real reason and no higher purpose but to be occasionally entertained like barely poking my face above the thrashing waters of the deep to catch a quick breath in between nigh constant drowning in sorrow.

>>10
Some days I'm tired. Some days I'm content. Some days I'm fucking angry. Some days, I manage all three in the same set of waking hours. Every day, I'm sick of cycling through these emotions like some kind of roulette wheel due to shit that is deeply out of my control. I'm also mostly tired of landing on tired or angry.
Yeah, it's not worth it, but what else do you have?

...admittedly, I suspect more money would evaporate most of my feelings of exhaustion.
Money isn't happiness and can't buy it, but it is fuel you can burn to even try and find some. It's like having a car with a full tank versus walking around. Without money, you're just left walking along the freeway to find a bit of lasting joy.
You can get lost on the road to happiness just the same as one without cash, and you can easily end up passing whatever happiness you should have been able to find, but you can sure as hell go a lot further with money.
Realizing you're lost and have to walk back along the barren joyless road you were on sucks; let me just shift into reverse and floor it the fuck away from whatever bad spot I found myself in.

>>41
wonderful

>>41
SPOOKY

HALLOWEEN AIN'T DONE TIL THE END OF THE FINAL SECOND OF NOVEMBER 30th -- even if it's All Saint's Month or Hallowmas, like a month long Boxing Day.

People still have pumpkins out throughout fall, so I'm fine with that.

>>17
This is how I imagine you: http://world2ch.net/uploader/src/121.png

http://world2ch.net/uploader/src/122.mp3
sorry if the quality is SHIT

Wrong thread >>19?

>>20
AW MAN SORRY YES, wrong thread

>>18
That looks beyond comfy, brah. 11/10 would live the rest of my days like that in between feeding my chickens and shearing my sheep, chopping firewood and carrying the well water, maybe doing a bit of hiking or mountain trail cycling, perhaps spend a day or a week camping at some supposed haunted abandoned location a half-hour's drive away and fishing for brekkie and dindin. But mostly your pic, yeah.

I curse that 2GET to be consumed by tanasinn!

Are you guys going trick or treating?

I pick trick

>>6
You're being tricked, but won't be told how.