Blind Writing

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DigitalSushi

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while I think this thread is very very good, kudos to you OP, I don't think i can take part due to me being ambidextrous, writing is difficult for us weird people.

I'll give it a try though later!
 

GrinningManiac

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Well, today was nice, I guess I?ll go down the pier later blue and green, mixed make what, cow patterns, on a tiger, that?s a cat, tortoise wellington, no, Nelson. That film, wellington was in wh watertowers are corn in a field red biplane that show friends has the giraffe in it, but he?s got a dummy where is my grandmother now, she?s in abignale, oh look, golden Incan apl chizzer aort keyboard

THIS IS FUN!
 

JBarracudaL

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Automatic writing is my preferred form of writing. I'm doing a surrealist horror tale right now that I try to never think about while not writing, I just sit down and let the creative juices flow.

As far as writing something for this thread, I have no idea... I'll try.

Planning to wake up that summer morning troubled Heather as she sat lazily inside of her dreams, staring up into a picturesque violet sky.
"Why do I bother?" She whispered aloud, wondering if she should simply remain inside of her head, never waking up. "Is that even possible?" She paused, "I'm sure it must be, I just have to think about not waking up? Wait, no, I have to not think about it and become engrossed in my dream." Heather sat up, closed her eyes for a moment, soon finding herself standing in on an unfamiliar shore littered with people.

Heather began conversing with the locals; most of which spoke only scatterbrained gibberish. "The pink dog jumps the bookstore." "The octopus could only do eight things at once." "If I could swim in the sky could I drown in the air?" Heather became forgetful of her body's' need to awaken, becoming ever more interested in mingling with her imaginary companions. Suddenly as she continued to speak, a boardwalk formed behind her, now without concentration her brain fulfilled the subconscious request she had to remain entertained by her dream.

She lead the horde of talkative dream people over to the amusement park, treating them to rides and candy, like guests in her home she must keep happy. Heather felt all was going just right, no thought in her mind about whether it was a drea or real, she just enjoyed the company of those people she created and the world around her. When suddenly a loud buzzer hissed at them from the sky, all the people vanished, as did the beach and boardwalk, it was now a field of ice. Heather called out, "Don't go!" Yet it was too late, she was alone with the buzzer and the cold.

She soon found herself getting out of bed, turning off the alarm and thinking to herself, "I forgot to shut that damn alarm off. last night...."

Blah, that was without stopping or thinking about anything.
 

GrinningManiac

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What constitutes a Llama, red biplane in the cartoony sky like the cows with guinea pigs, today was sunny, red shirts in my back garden tortoise pond fish lilies, why does the BNHP have a fat guy here?s got to be more to life that cat with the orange who knows how old she is . Feral Ghoul. Huh, Calvin has blond hair I guess, white infariry is that a word dictionary oxford is a city cheese with holes old computer my house, where did it go, I sure miss that house
Too SMALL MOUSE LED ZEPALLIN WIT THE MUSIC, Mozart was cool I guess, Sally, I miss Sally Submarine, Not yellow, Akula, Connery was in a Russian sub. Keyboard to my right rhino to my left like in Africa with the orange grass and flat trees. Crows, eating the eyes of communism Panthers in the jungle Mogli look for the bear necessities, animal farm in the jungle, is the bear made out of capitalism, fat potato head, republican, went against Obama, what?s his name? McCoy? Huh

Shoes, converse, I hate them. They?re nice, but everyone wears them zombies 43d Whoa, Flowers.

THIS IS REALLY FUN.

Good pasttime, kills minutes, good fun
 

Spudgun Man

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Oct 29, 2008
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Hmm i don't think mines even worth posting, its just lines of random letters and curse words. (wow something must be going down up there)

But seriously i've been tearing my hair out trying not to think, how the hell is this possible?
 

GrinningManiac

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Jun 11, 2009
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Okay, this one was frighteningly serious, and I'd love for an analysis, there's some curious religo-babble in there, stuff I think relates to my guilt of not being more pious

I suppose when you look at the world, Afghanistan is a kind of su,mnol for the share of our mischievous cretins, what with the redcoats, and the red army, and the redness of blood on sand, like diamonds, him diamonds. There?s a man in a suit shouting at the photographer. Who?s in the right? A corpse, screaming at injustice, the eagle flies overhead, is it liberty? Like dove, but it eats people, like them. The moon, it looks down, like snooty neighbours with pet cat. Who is the cat? Halley? Odd...Mozart was nice enough, I don?t like them. Clergy, My uncle, he works for them, who works for god? Do they "work" for god? Does the Doll ?work? for the little boy or girl or cat who chews it when they?re away?

Oil rigs digging up my home there?s a yellow truck with a spade, a man in a green coat. He has a moustache. So does Hitler. Stalin too, Bach didn?t/ Po;. Ot important. Where in the world is My oil. Why don?t I get what my vote fought for. There?s a man in the world, dead, bleeding the black gold, because I let it happen. My fault? Or the government who lied> Who knows. Did they lie? Was I paying attention? ID I JUST NOT CARE? There?s another Cat. Why do i keep thinking of Cats? I?m a god person. Trains, they move around,. Not arteries, but intestines? I PAUSED THERE, Odd...helicopters, and swirling about like it?s nobody?s business?!?

"god person", okay, that freaked me a little. I think I meant to say Dog (I do this with my eyes closed, stops me planning my next sentence). Is that a coincidental typo, or a freaky inner thingamigig?
 

Zemalac

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I like doing this sort of thing, just writing whenever a new thought strikes my head. Usually I do it by hand, with little sketches that turn into characters later.

A lot of this seems to be quotes from songs I've been listening to recently, or fragments of other ideas I've had. I felt the whole time like I had someone--myself, to be exact--hiding in the back of my head examining what I was writing. Kind of odd.

Murder is a black-tie affair. You know? You know. The minister of information wrote the wrong proclamation, and nobody knows where he's hiding now. And he'd better hide. They're hunting him.

Watch where you put your feet. Murder is a black-tie affair, but why are the ties always black? What does that mean? Black bow-ties, presumably, but you'd think it would say that. Hide from the law, but they know where your brain lives. What would you do, if you weren't afraid? He's on to you.

The game, it's about the game. But it's not a game anymore. What?

You're taking things too seriously. Relax. The beach is nice this time of year, all frosted sand and frozen waves. The world ended last week.

Hey now, we're on an airship on Mars. Red sands out the window of the first-class cabin. There's a Martian there: bomb him. Bomb the shit out of him.

Everything's worked out. It always does. No worries.

Don't ask where the nukes went. They won't tell you.

No surprises here. Carpe omnis, eh? Read a book, read a motherfucking book. The side of the road, the one-sided coin. There's always a balance, but not here. Too much care has gone into the creation of the world, it's like something balanced on a pin, but it can't fall off. Never.

Get on a suit. Wear a suit. A suit and shades and black hat mask, broken masquerade writing shattered windowpanes. It never makes sense. Read it anyway.

The pictures have eyes like killers. You know where they look. Yeah?

No, not really.

There's a place I know, outside time, outside hope, outside busy and work and conflict. I'm not there. It's just a place I know. Time moves too fast, and before you know it it's nine.

Four is death, you know? And he's number four. I wonder if he knows. Probably not, but could be.

Live for it. If you're going to do it, do it with style, or at least with your eyes closed.

Can't think in lines anymore, gotta think in stories. Like thinking in panels. You know.

Nah, you don't know. Make presumptions.

I can't write. Hiding behind too many masks, I suppose. Time to stop, time for dinner. Pizza. Tomorrow, too, at noon. Gunshots at noon, except it's pizza. Delicious.

It's always a conversation, did you realize that? The things they carried, that was one. Two? Two. It was two.

Focusing too much now.

Shakespeare! But Brutus is an honorable man. It's just a coincidence that oil men would wage war on an oil-rich land. Macbeth, I am Macbeth. Damn, that was a good story that Owen told. "I am Macbeth." Heh. Dude must have freaked out.

Out, damn spot! Could be used so many ways.

Backspace. Why is it called that? It's back a space, I suppose, but that seems too logical. Nothing makes sense like that. Why he whistles, you know? Damn, that's loud. You can hear him from the street. Just keep your ear off it. Off the street. Pavement burns like ice, like frozen acid, set on fire. With chainsaws. Up to eleven! Rawk. All the way. It was personal the first time ************, you know what we roll by. In tanks, with hydraulics.

She talks so loud on the phone. Whisper sensitive! They can hear you, you know. Breaking concentration.

Who would want to save the world?
 

thepj

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Spudgun Man said:
Hmm i don't think mines even worth posting, its just lines of random letters and curse words. (wow something must be going down up there)

But seriously i've been tearing my hair out trying not to think, how the hell is this possible?
don't try not to think, even when you try you end up thinking "I must not think" just let the thoughts filter through your mind, looking at each one as you would cars on a busy road:you see them, they move by, your mind discards them andyou look at the nextone, when the traffic that is your thoughts has cleared and is moving again then you start to type each thought you observe as it passes by
 

Khedive Rex

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GrinningManiac said:
Okay, this one was frighteningly serious, and I'd love for an analysis, there's some curious religo-babble in there, stuff I think relates to my guilt of not being more pious

I suppose when you look at the world, Afghanistan is a kind of su,mnol for the share of our mischievous cretins, what with the redcoats, and the red army, and the redness of blood on sand, like diamonds, him diamonds. There?s a man in a suit shouting at the photographer. Who?s in the right? A corpse, screaming at injustice, the eagle flies overhead, is it liberty? Like dove, but it eats people, like them. The moon, it looks down, like snooty neighbours with pet cat. Who is the cat? Halley? Odd...Mozart was nice enough, I don?t like them. Clergy, My uncle, he works for them, who works for god? Do they "work" for god? Does the Doll ?work? for the little boy or girl or cat who chews it when they?re away?

Oil rigs digging up my home there?s a yellow truck with a spade, a man in a green coat. He has a moustache. So does Hitler. Stalin too, Bach didn?t/ Po;. Ot important. Where in the world is My oil. Why don?t I get what my vote fought for. There?s a man in the world, dead, bleeding the black gold, because I let it happen. My fault? Or the government who lied> Who knows. Did they lie? Was I paying attention? ID I JUST NOT CARE? There?s another Cat. Why do i keep thinking of Cats? I?m a god person. Trains, they move around,. Not arteries, but intestines? I PAUSED THERE, Odd...helicopters, and swirling about like it?s nobody?s business?!?

"god person", okay, that freaked me a little. I think I meant to say Dog (I do this with my eyes closed, stops me planning my next sentence). Is that a coincidental typo, or a freaky inner thingamigig?
I believe its a freaky inner thingamigig. It's late and I should probably be asleep but you specifically asked for an analysis so I figured I'd oblige.

Again, everything I say should be taken from the perspective of guessing blindly. That being said, the first thing that stands out to me is that you appear to be frustrated with yourself. You're naturally an apathetic and accepting fellow but recently you feel that you should be having a stronger influence on the world around you. You're not sure in which ways you should try to affect the world but you feel as though your obligated to make an attempt. The fact that you haven't yet, and aren't really the sort of person who feels undying desire to, worries you.

You appear to have characterized your personal sense of apathy and complacency with a cat. "The moon, it looks down, like snooty neighbours with pet cat.", "Does the Doll ?work? for the little boy or girl or cat who chews it when they?re away?", "ID I JUST NOT CARE? There?s another Cat." The people who own the cat are comfortable and self-absorbed and unlikely to have any positive influence on the world. When your disscussing the nature of faith, your worry that an all knowing god doesn't exist or doesn't care about individual humans is characterized by a cat chewing on a doll (the doll characterizing your uncle specifically and the concept of blind acceptance generally). When you are confronted by the concept that you don't care, you immediately see a cat. You've chosen that image to represent the passive and uninterested parts of your personallity. And you declare at the end that you should not be seeing cats because you are a god person; which is interesting firstly because it solidifies the idea that your not entirely comfortable with the lazy parts of your personality and secondly because it is something of a Freudian slip (you most certainly meant Dog. It is more than coincidence however that you typed God.)

I'm assuming that you are conciously aware of an ideal you feel no loyalty to in your subconcious. The idea of being pious and faithful and virtuous are values you have to remind yourself are your goals in life. Deep down though, it doesn't bother you that you're not as pious as you should be, it worries you that you aren't bothered by the fact that your not as pious as you should be. In your own mind you're afriad that that is proof you have given up on, or are unable to lead, a meaningfull and impactful life. This is nonesense and you shouldn't think like that. You characterize your uncle, presumably the man who most embodies the ideals of faith in your own life, as a mindless doll being chewed on by passersby who don't care about him. Whether you realize it or not, you don't want to end up like that. Forcing yourself to live to his standards will never provide you with the satisfaction you think it provides him. You call yourself a god person as a way of fighting the careless parts of your instinct through devotion to the ideals you think you ought to have, but really its time you came up with a system of morals that worked and that you actually felt loyalty to. Other people can't teach you what to think and, on an unconcious level, you really aren't interested in their attempts.

My advice would be to accept your essential nature and learn to embrace it. You're not a god person, you're a cat person and it's really not that bad. You can still accomplish things and have an impact on the world, but it doesn't have to be all at once. You think endlessly about Afghanistan because you feel like you ought to care more deeply. The honest truth though is that, right now, you don't. I can guarantee you one thing though, when you've gone out into the world and met some people from afghanistan and met some soldiers and met the families of soldiers the conflict will seem 800% more real and you will care. And when the time comes that you do care and are in a position to help, your cool, calm, placid, cat additude will be invaluable. You'll be able to see where other people are making mistakes and you'll be independant enough to point out those flaws and demand that something be done. You'll approach issues logically and steadily and you'll develop interesting solutions that people who were lost in the moment may never have thought of. You don't need mindless fealty to accomplish things, your free-spirited accepting additude will do you far more good.

Thats the thing though, you wont become that man until you've looked after yourself first. Before you try to change the world, look after your own interests. Get a job that lets you have a comfortable, easy life. Meet people who will help you see more of the world and enjoy the finer parts of it. Expand your circle of friends, expand your personal experience, expand the breadth of your knowledge and (you'll forgive the frankness) the depth of your pocketbook and you'll be in a position to do whatever you want; whatever needs to be done. If you try to change the world now though, you wont be able to and you'll cause yourself more stress than you deserve. First make your world a better place, then you can start to worry about other people's worlds.

... Wow, longer than I intended. Hope you don't mind. Again, stabbing in the dark and feel free to tell me I was way off.

Oh, and

Labyrinth said:
I'd also like to add that I feel it's a hell of a lot easier to accurately analyse someone else's work than your own, because you don't carry the baggage of understanding everything so can draw certain connections which they might not think of. Doing it with someone you know is also easier than doing it with a stranger.
I think thats certainly true but theres is something to be said about doing it to stangers. The same way that you can have trouble analyzing yourself because your too far caught up in it, its possible that people you know would ignore connection because their pretty sure they know how you operate and the inclination they were getting didn't seem like you. Distance can be useful in these sorts of things. It allows for a very sterile look at the person and those are usually the most reliable.

Knowing a person certainly makes advice easier though. You can cite specific actions instead of just describing a mentality or rough-draft of strategy.

DRADIS C0ntact post=18.141636.3176458 said:
Khedive Rex said:
Whoa...

That summed up to the letter exactly what I've been struggling with for the last couple months now. I've been wanting to get away from someone, but I haven't been able to express it because this person needs me. And so I've just continued living in the situation, making sacrifices that I don't want to make anymore because I don't think this person can make it without me.

And honestly, I wasn't thinking about all of that when I did the blind writing. I tried to keep my mind off of the writing and on something else, like what groceries I need to buy today.

I might try to do some more blind writing after that...
You should definitelly try some more. I'm thinking of doing another myself though I must admit I'd love some more interpretations of the first. I have no idea why my unconcious mind would sound like that, or appear to have led a completely contradictory life to my own. And the idea that he's being eaten by things that find his writing funny is ... vaguely distrubing. Makes me wonder what was running through my head.

Oh, and my advice still stand. You should think about yourself first. It'll suck while your doing it but it'll provide a solid end from which you can grow some beginings. Nothing lasts forever and, unfortunately, our attempts to keep the husks looking bright are always ultimately futile and slowly more depressing. Again though, I don't know you and really don't know what you're going through besides a paragraph of metaphor. Take advice people on the internet give you with a grain of salt, that's my advice... Paradox...
 

Biosophilogical

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Mine makes no sense. I tried not thinking and all I ended up achieving was thinking only two words ahead without a thought to the directionof the sentence. Sort of like traversing my train of thought with a light which could only see two feet ahead.
With an arm's length of rope dangling beside his left leg, his hope dwindled to a small flame of despair as his lunch swelled within his solar frame light. The indications of his pending insanity surrounded him with the light of a thousand stars all exploding simultaneously with the joy of peasant children. Above him came a face stricken with grief and confusion, such is the face we all wear as we develop beyond the childhood fancies which so governed our youth. When pertaining to the social norm we die inside as our souls are slowly consumed by our desire for acceptance. We become one with something bigger than ourselves and yet at the same time become the same size as the whole although neither of us change our size from the original. If our perceptions on time dilation such as the lightning strike train paradox are all based around the theory of the constant speed of light is it possible that we do not so much as exist in a world where the result is different so much as we deter our perception due to the inability of the speed of light to be exceeded? If God himself were to exist in a paranormal state of being then my thoughts would reach him through etherness and surrealism.
This thing makes no sense to me but I have edited out the poor grammar
 

GrinningManiac

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Khedive Rex said:
GrinningManiac said:
Okay, this one was frighteningly serious, and I'd love for an analysis, there's some curious religo-babble in there, stuff I think relates to my guilt of not being more pious

I suppose when you look at the world, Afghanistan is a kind of su,mnol for the share of our mischievous cretins, what with the redcoats, and the red army, and the redness of blood on sand, like diamonds, him diamonds. There?s a man in a suit shouting at the photographer. Who?s in the right? A corpse, screaming at injustice, the eagle flies overhead, is it liberty? Like dove, but it eats people, like them. The moon, it looks down, like snooty neighbours with pet cat. Who is the cat? Halley? Odd...Mozart was nice enough, I don?t like them. Clergy, My uncle, he works for them, who works for god? Do they "work" for god? Does the Doll ?work? for the little boy or girl or cat who chews it when they?re away?

Oil rigs digging up my home there?s a yellow truck with a spade, a man in a green coat. He has a moustache. So does Hitler. Stalin too, Bach didn?t/ Po;. Ot important. Where in the world is My oil. Why don?t I get what my vote fought for. There?s a man in the world, dead, bleeding the black gold, because I let it happen. My fault? Or the government who lied> Who knows. Did they lie? Was I paying attention? ID I JUST NOT CARE? There?s another Cat. Why do i keep thinking of Cats? I?m a god person. Trains, they move around,. Not arteries, but intestines? I PAUSED THERE, Odd...helicopters, and swirling about like it?s nobody?s business?!?

"god person", okay, that freaked me a little. I think I meant to say Dog (I do this with my eyes closed, stops me planning my next sentence). Is that a coincidental typo, or a freaky inner thingamigig?
I believe its a freaky inner thingamigig. It's late and I should probably be asleep but you specifically asked for an analysis so I figured I'd oblige.

Again, everything I say should be taken from the perspective of guessing blindly. That being said, the first thing that stands out to me is that you appear to be frustrated with yourself. You're naturally an apathetic and accepting fellow but recently you feel that you should be having a stronger influence on the world around you. You're not sure in which ways you should try to affect the world but you feel as though your obligated to make an attempt. The fact that you haven't yet, and aren't really the sort of person who feels undying desire to, worries you.

You appear to have characterized your personal sense of apathy and complacency with a cat. "The moon, it looks down, like snooty neighbours with pet cat.", "Does the Doll ?work? for the little boy or girl or cat who chews it when they?re away?", "ID I JUST NOT CARE? There?s another Cat." The people who own the cat are comfortable and self-absorbed and unlikely to have any positive influence on the world. When your disscussing the nature of faith, your worry that an all knowing god doesn't exist or doesn't care about individual humans is characterized by a cat chewing on a doll (the doll characterizing your uncle specifically and the concept of blind acceptance generally). When you are confronted by the concept that you don't care, you immediately see a cat. You've chosen that image to represent the passive and uninterested parts of your personallity. And you declare at the end that you should not be seeing cats because you are a god person; which is interesting firstly because it solidifies the idea that your not entirely comfortable with the lazy parts of your personality and secondly because it is something of a Freudian slip (you most certainly meant Dog. It is more than coincidence however that you typed God.)

I'm assuming that you are conciously aware of an ideal you feel no loyalty to in your subconcious. The idea of being pious and faithful and virtuous are values you have to remind yourself are your goals in life. Deep down though, it doesn't bother you that you're not as pious as you should be, it worries you that you aren't bothered by the fact that your not as pious as you should be. In your own mind you're afriad that that is proof you have given up on, or are unable to lead, a meaningfull and impactful life. This is nonesense and you shouldn't think like that. You characterize your uncle, presumably the man who most embodies the ideals of faith in your own life, as a mindless doll being chewed on by passersby who don't care about him. Whether you realize it or not, you don't want to end up like that. Forcing yourself to live to his standards will never provide you with the satisfaction you think it provides him. You call yourself a god person as a way of fighting the careless parts of your instinct through devotion to the ideals you think you ought to have, but really its time you came up with a system of morals that worked and that you actually felt loyalty to. Other people can't teach you what to think and, on an unconcious level, you really aren't interested in their attempts.

My advice would be to accept your essential nature and learn to embrace it. You're not a god person, you're a cat person and it's really not that bad. You can still accomplish things and have an impact on the world, but it doesn't have to be all at once. You think endlessly about Afghanistan because you feel like you ought to care more deeply. The honest truth though is that, right now, you don't. I can guarantee you one thing though, when you've gone out into the world and met some people from afghanistan and met some soldiers and met the families of soldiers the conflict will seem 800% more real and you will care. And when the time comes that you do care and are in a position to help, your cool, calm, placid, cat additude will be invaluable. You'll be able to see where other people are making mistakes and you'll be independant enough to point out those flaws and demand that something be done. You'll approach issues logically and steadily and you'll develop interesting solutions that people who were lost in the moment may never have thought of. You don't need mindless fealty to accomplish things, your free-spirited accepting additude will do you far more good.

Thats the thing though, you wont become that man until you've looked after yourself first. Before you try to change the world, look after your own interests. Get a job that lets you have a comfortable, easy life. Meet people who will help you see more of the world and enjoy the finer parts of it. Expand your circle of friends, expand your personal experience, expand the breadth of your knowledge and (you'll forgive the frankness) the depth of your pocketbook and you'll be in a position to do whatever you want; whatever needs to be done. If you try to change the world now though, you wont be able to and you'll cause yourself more stress than you deserve. First make your world a better place, then you can start to worry about other people's worlds.

... Wow, longer than I intended. Hope you don't mind. Again, stabbing in the dark and feel free to tell me I was way off.
Wow, that was scarily accurate. I guess I do feel a little bad that I don't care enough about serious things, but I really do want to change the world as well (I study Politics and History, Napoleon is a bit of an idol for me)

Wow, thanks mate, that's a really good job you did there. If this forum had a sort of "approval" system, you can bet I'd be giving you a whole bunch. So you can settle for my awesome avatar of my pet Guinea Pig, Nutmeg
 

Animated Rope

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I hate talking. No one ever understands what I'm saying, let alone listen. I'm a purple mind. I despair. I feel like isolating myself and never care. People should hear me. It's not worth the effort.
With purple mind I refer to some silly internet test I did. It said purple minds want to spread a message.
 

Nickolai77

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I must admit from reading a few of these passages that the quality of writing is excellent, i am loving the imagery that comes out in these. to quote from Labrinth-
with glass pipes between their fingers and burned-out hope in their eyes
Not only that but pace and tone is impressive as well, for instance i like how the anger comes across Zemalac's piece

There's a Martian there: bomb him. Bomb the shit out of him.
Literary critics as well as psychologists would have a feild day anaylising these things. Not only that but they make a good read as well, you would think they would come from proffesional writers.

I don't know when i am going to post mine. It is quarter past eleven here, and my mind does not work too well in the mornings, i will probably wait until later this afternoon.
 

Eclectic Dreck

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I tried but I can't do it. I simply cannot seem to write without thinking about it, at least not with a keyboard. I may give it a try with a pen and paper but I don't know if I'd have any more success.
 

Motti

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This is a creepy analogy for how I feel at the moment, whether I was actually thinking about what I was writing or whether it was my subconscious talking I have no idea.

So.
Here we all are.
I sat in the dark room, moisture dripping from the walls as I sat on the rickety plastic chair and waited. I could get out one day, maybe but nobody wanted me to leave this room. They were all happy while I was in here, food being given to me like clockwork as I sat in the darkness and counted the pockmarks in the concrete. I had done nothing to be in here, I had just found myself in this room one day and ever since I had wanted to get out.
That's my life story so far, here's hoping the door opens one day.
 

DazZ.

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Jun 4, 2009
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Would alot easier if my dog didn't start barking and people outside began hedge trimming. Bastards.

This is the only bit that I can't remember writing, the rest of it was abit too conscious to count[br][br]"things that go round like a ball dont make it happy it needs to be the other way. I dont. i dont."[br][br]Kind of obvious I'm not happy I guess. I'm going to have ago later when it is night and not distracting noises all the time. (if I remember to) :)
 

ThreeWords

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I tried once, and I find I either can't loose focus, or I can't spell, to the point where it's unreadable. Is it cheating to adjust spelling afterwards?

EDIT: It sort of worked:

Lets see what we can do for you my dear. I can;t think of anything to do, I;m lost and unhappy, and I can;t find the way out.

Surprising indeed, considering I'm usually rather happy
 

Khedive Rex

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ThreeWords said:
I tried once, and I find I either can't loose focus, or I can't spell, to the point where it's unreadable. Is it cheating to adjust spelling afterwards?
Some have done it in the thread. If your post is otherwise completely inelligible I can understand and excuse fixing the spelling afterwards. My only worry is that you will lose some of the message by trying to make it cleaner. The little mistakes gramatically and what not can mean a lot. If you have to though, feel free to fix the spelling on your post. I'd rather have something a little less raw than have nothing at all.
 

ThreeWords

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Feb 27, 2009
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Khedive Rex said:
ThreeWords said:
I tried once, and I find I either can't loose focus, or I can't spell, to the point where it's unreadable. Is it cheating to adjust spelling afterwards?
Some have done it in the thread. If your post is otherwise completely inelligible I can understand and excuse fixing the spelling afterwards. My only worry is that you will lose some of the message by trying to make it cleaner. The little mistakes gramatically and what not can mean a lot. If you have to though, feel free to fix the spelling on your post. I'd rather have something a little less raw than have nothing at all.
I tried twice, and here they are. I think the semi colon is meant to be an apostrophe, because they are next to each other on the keyboard

Lets see what we can do for you my dear. I can;t think of anything to do, I;m lost and unhappy, and I can;t find the way out.

A second attempt returns to fail again,, and as I stalk the corridors I search for a little mouse. It down here somewhere , but I can;t see it, and think it;s going to get away. If it does, I don;t think I?ll se it again andI need it so badly