How did you change your life?

Flappy bird changed my life.

* flies into huge pipes milions of times before committing suicide*

this week i've been putting spinach in everything, i'll report back with any exciting changes.

People who commit suicides don't take it seriously enough. It should be an work of art. Hell, it's like the last thing you'll ever do in this world. But for them, art would probably be the last thing they think of. They just want to end the pain.

Anyways, I've found the Kubler-Ross model to be very useful in describing the process of tragic events. I'm starting to accept my new reality. It's so fucking weird in my case. I guess most suicides occur during the depression phase.

Depression is hard man, and is not something trivial at all. I hope you can get through this.

I'll definitely get through it. I'm a veteran when it comes to battling depression, but the most recent one has been the hardest and most absurd. I couldn't even make sense of the whole situation in the first place. I got depressed mainly because 'why the fuck is everything so weird around me?' both online and in real life.

I'm almost done with getting through it though. I've got a new life goal: early retirement (aka financial independence). At least I won't have to ever worry about money after that.

  On 2/18/2014 at 9:59 AM, pafr said:

People who commit suicides don't take it seriously enough. It should be an work of art.

I wrote a series based on a dude who keeps on trying to commit suicide, but then he keeps inadvertently saving himself due to wanting the perfect suicide. Inside spoiler are extremely rough notes of a couple story bases... But yah. If you can perfect a suicide, you prolly have the will to do well in life.

I've learned people in general are afraid of a lot of things and would prefer to distance themselves from other people but still interact with others. I used to be normal like that until Rebeca redefined all those and changed my perspective. It is considered normal to fear of being close to another person. People naturally distrust others and are afraid of the unknown, thus death and religion. It's rather naive/masochistic to trust others easily. It's rather a balance of being afraid of everything and not afraid of anything at all.

0 being extremely fearful and 10 being afraid of nothing at all. I've learned that it's probably best to be 8, rather than being in the middle ground of 5.

[youtubehd]E-V7xJ1D8X0[/youtubehd]

  On 2/18/2014 at 11:28 AM, peace 7 said:

 

  On 2/18/2014 at 9:59 AM, pafr said:

People who commit suicides don't take it seriously enough. It should be an work of art.

I wrote a series based on a dude who keeps on trying to commit suicide, but then he keeps inadvertently saving himself due to wanting the perfect suicide. Inside spoiler are extremely rough notes of a couple story bases... But yah. If you can perfect a suicide, you prolly have the will to do well in life.

 

 

  Reveal hidden contents

-I had my antique etc etc pistol all loaded and ready to go. well polished so i could go out with dignity, with a beautiful piece of hardware. but then i couldn't find my 17th century hand mirror... my whole life, i could not find my head without looking in the mirror. picking my nose would usually result in me poking my eye or sucking my middle finger. so i had no mirror.... i was ready to go, and I wanted to shoot perfectly in my right temple. that's how i planned it... but i had no mirror.... so i decided-- i decided to live, because a re-run of parker lewis can't lose just came on some shit cable channel, and this episode-- boy, I loved this episode. it turns out, it'd be the episode that saved my life.

 

 

 

-my pubic hair was in a mess. i was right about to hang myself- nude and oiled up, muscles rippling from 7 years of hardcore calisthenics- but i looked down, right when my silk necktie tickled my freshly shaven chin... I looked down, and my pubez were just a mess. It was like a jungle of bullshit in a shoebox diorama, made by a 4th grader who didn't give a shit about dinosaurs. It was like mound of venus fly trap, because indeed, there were several decomposing flies. It was like i had focused so much on the texture of my hairwax and was too concerned with the boxy, rounded notes of my lavender essential oil cologne, that i did not- for the love of what i thought was life-- I did not have time to groom my crotch. Gosh, it was a mess. Inbetween the frantic, nearly-vibrating black wires of pube, were vagina-juice crystalline structures from a girl I'd met at a rave two weeks prior. It might've been the adrenaline rush from the excitement and allure of solving all my problems with a $275 neuse, but I was pretty sure a centipede slithered into my crotch depths and vanished. This..... Thiiis was not good. I was about to die, and all that anyone would ever remember me for, would be the condition of my no-excuse pubez. So I bathed. I washed the shit out of my pubez. Like literally, I think I saw some pebbles of feces go down the drain in that dark-brown, bubbly murk. ...Prolly from that girl I met at the fetish club three weeks prior. And then, I trimmed. Boooy, did I trim. I gross-cut, manicured, refined, and then refined. And that's when I saw it. For the first time in my life, I saw it. I had a beautiful, sunrise-in-spring level of pubic mound perfection. This is something- THIS, I thought- was something I wanted to share with the world. Well, first with random girls of the local nightclub scene. But then... Then, it was gonna be the world. It turns out- beaming into my eyeballs at that point-- those would be the pubez that saved my life.

 

 

JUST DO IT

.

  On 2/18/2014 at 11:28 AM, peace 7 said:

 

  On 2/18/2014 at 9:59 AM, pafr said:

People who commit suicides don't take it seriously enough. It should be an work of art.

I wrote a series based on a dude who keeps on trying to commit suicide, but then he keeps inadvertently saving himself due to wanting the perfect suicide. Inside spoiler are extremely rough notes of a couple story bases... But yah. If you can perfect a suicide, you prolly have the will to do well in life.

 

 

  Reveal hidden contents

-I had my antique etc etc pistol all loaded and ready to go. well polished so i could go out with dignity, with a beautiful piece of hardware. but then i couldn't find my 17th century hand mirror... my whole life, i could not find my head without looking in the mirror. picking my nose would usually result in me poking my eye or sucking my middle finger. so i had no mirror.... i was ready to go, and I wanted to shoot perfectly in my right temple. that's how i planned it... but i had no mirror.... so i decided-- i decided to live, because a re-run of parker lewis can't lose just came on some shit cable channel, and this episode-- boy, I loved this episode. it turns out, it'd be the episode that saved my life.

 

 

 

-my pubic hair was in a mess. i was right about to hang myself- nude and oiled up, muscles rippling from 7 years of hardcore calisthenics- but i looked down, right when my silk necktie tickled my freshly shaven chin... I looked down, and my pubez were just a mess. It was like a jungle of bullshit in a shoebox diorama, made by a 4th grader who didn't give a shit about dinosaurs. It was like mound of venus fly trap, because indeed, there were several decomposing flies. It was like i had focused so much on the texture of my hairwax and was too concerned with the boxy, rounded notes of my lavender essential oil cologne, that i did not- for the love of what i thought was life-- I did not have time to groom my crotch. Gosh, it was a mess. Inbetween the frantic, nearly-vibrating black wires of pube, were vagina-juice crystalline structures from a girl I'd met at a rave two weeks prior. It might've been the adrenaline rush from the excitement and allure of solving all my problems with a $275 neuse, but I was pretty sure a centipede slithered into my crotch depths and vanished. This..... Thiiis was not good. I was about to die, and all that anyone would ever remember me for, would be the condition of my no-excuse pubez. So I bathed. I washed the shit out of my pubez. Like literally, I think I saw some pebbles of feces go down the drain in that dark-brown, bubbly murk. ...Prolly from that girl I met at the fetish club three weeks prior. And then, I trimmed. Boooy, did I trim. I gross-cut, manicured, refined, and then refined. And that's when I saw it. For the first time in my life, I saw it. I had a beautiful, sunrise-in-spring level of pubic mound perfection. This is something- THIS, I thought- was something I wanted to share with the world. Well, first with random girls of the local nightclub scene. But then... Then, it was gonna be the world. It turns out- beaming into my eyeballs at that point-- those would be the pubez that saved my life.

 

 

Have you seen this http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0345549/ ? Not the same I know, but immediately reminded me of it.

  On 2/17/2014 at 7:25 PM, pafr said:

 

  On 2/17/2014 at 5:11 PM, AdieuErsatzEnnui said:

You don't change your life. Life changes you. It is merely an illusion that you change your own life. You are the reactive force. Your life is happening at all times, and you have zero control over it. You are the reflection.

This is the same as whether free will exists or not. Reading various posts seems like a lot of people here are depressed or have a lot of different problems in life. Also, many seem like they are always on watmm and nothing better to do. I guess this is an ok place to discuss and complain about life.

 

Being pretty fucking pathetic these days, watmm is likely the only place I 'socialize' with others. It's definitely helpful to talk about your problems, and I appreciate and would like to thank all of you for your feedback. Some feedback are good, some are horrible. Either way it's fine. I'll try to stop complaining about my problems, and I'll try to be more positive rather than saying 'fuck this, fuck that' all the time. Sorry if I offended anyone. I'll try to participate in these mostly time-wasting discussions and do something more productive with my life.

 

sure talk about your problems is fine.

but the problem is often that people pretend they are talking about their problems, but they dont really talk about their own problems, they just go on and on talking about things that sucks in the world, outside of themselves. It's almost a way to escape one own's real problem to do this.

Any problems has to and only can be dealt from within. Life sucks indeed so what can you do about it. What one do to make it better for himself or worse for himself.Complaining only hurt yourself, that is the problem. Its totally unecessary to complain, better let it go, and concentrate on the positive, always.

Ive been meditating for a long time now, and that is the thing that changed my life the most, it shows you that inner joy is inside and nothing on the outside will ever give you that.

Here a quote from Ayya Khema:

What are you learning from the first meditative absorption: that there is a delightful feeling, a delightful sensation, a blissful sensation inside of you that you have been trying to find out there in the world and it is far more blissful that anything that you ever experience on the worldly level.

The insight that comes from that should make a lot of difference. You realize that everything that we get in the world goes through our senses and most people never get to know anything other than the senses. So here, we have experienced something which we really liked and without any sense contact. In fact, one has to be secluded from all sense contact to experience the first meditative absorption.

The most important insight which comes from the first jhana is: that all we are looking for in the world, we carry within and so it’s useless to keep looking in the world because it doesn’t have that what we are looking for. We are looking for inner peace, inner happiness independent of outer conditions. As long as we are dependent on outer conditions, we are not free. We are consistently afraid that they might change, and they will change. Having a dependency on outer condition that must change generates fear: the fear that they will not stay that way, that we can’t get what we want and that we get what we don’t want. In meditation, we are only dependent upon our own selves, on our ability and willingness to concentrate; everything else doesn’t matter.

This insight changes our search for pleasant sense contact.

  On 2/18/2014 at 7:01 PM, AdieuErsatzEnnui said:

 

  On 2/18/2014 at 11:28 AM, peace 7 said:

 

  On 2/18/2014 at 9:59 AM, pafr said:

People who commit suicides don't take it seriously enough. It should be an work of art.

I wrote a series based on a dude who keeps on trying to commit suicide, but then he keeps inadvertently saving himself due to wanting the perfect suicide. Inside spoiler are extremely rough notes of a couple story bases... But yah. If you can perfect a suicide, you prolly have the will to do well in life.

 

 

  Reveal hidden contents

-I had my antique etc etc pistol all loaded and ready to go. well polished so i could go out with dignity, with a beautiful piece of hardware. but then i couldn't find my 17th century hand mirror... my whole life, i could not find my head without looking in the mirror. picking my nose would usually result in me poking my eye or sucking my middle finger. so i had no mirror.... i was ready to go, and I wanted to shoot perfectly in my right temple. that's how i planned it... but i had no mirror.... so i decided-- i decided to live, because a re-run of parker lewis can't lose just came on some shit cable channel, and this episode-- boy, I loved this episode. it turns out, it'd be the episode that saved my life.

 

 

 

-my pubic hair was in a mess. i was right about to hang myself- nude and oiled up, muscles rippling from 7 years of hardcore calisthenics- but i looked down, right when my silk necktie tickled my freshly shaven chin... I looked down, and my pubez were just a mess. It was like a jungle of bullshit in a shoebox diorama, made by a 4th grader who didn't give a shit about dinosaurs. It was like mound of venus fly trap, because indeed, there were several decomposing flies. It was like i had focused so much on the texture of my hairwax and was too concerned with the boxy, rounded notes of my lavender essential oil cologne, that i did not- for the love of what i thought was life-- I did not have time to groom my crotch. Gosh, it was a mess. Inbetween the frantic, nearly-vibrating black wires of pube, were vagina-juice crystalline structures from a girl I'd met at a rave two weeks prior. It might've been the adrenaline rush from the excitement and allure of solving all my problems with a $275 neuse, but I was pretty sure a centipede slithered into my crotch depths and vanished. This..... Thiiis was not good. I was about to die, and all that anyone would ever remember me for, would be the condition of my no-excuse pubez. So I bathed. I washed the shit out of my pubez. Like literally, I think I saw some pebbles of feces go down the drain in that dark-brown, bubbly murk. ...Prolly from that girl I met at the fetish club three weeks prior. And then, I trimmed. Boooy, did I trim. I gross-cut, manicured, refined, and then refined. And that's when I saw it. For the first time in my life, I saw it. I had a beautiful, sunrise-in-spring level of pubic mound perfection. This is something- THIS, I thought- was something I wanted to share with the world. Well, first with random girls of the local nightclub scene. But then... Then, it was gonna be the world. It turns out- beaming into my eyeballs at that point-- those would be the pubez that saved my life.

 

 

 

 

Have you seen this http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0345549/ ? Not the same I know, but immediately reminded me of it.

 

Nope. Sounds like an interesting premise...(?)

It's a pretty good movie.

And those story bases you posted are great. I want to see/read the series.

currently training myself to eat once every three days. long term goal is to have one meal per annum, and a semi-quarterly poop

  On 2/18/2014 at 9:18 PM, peace 7 said:

 

  On 2/18/2014 at 7:01 PM, AdieuErsatzEnnui said:

 

  On 2/18/2014 at 11:28 AM, peace 7 said:

 

  On 2/18/2014 at 9:59 AM, pafr said:

People who commit suicides don't take it seriously enough. It should be an work of art.

I wrote a series based on a dude who keeps on trying to commit suicide, but then he keeps inadvertently saving himself due to wanting the perfect suicide. Inside spoiler are extremely rough notes of a couple story bases... But yah. If you can perfect a suicide, you prolly have the will to do well in life.

 

 

  Reveal hidden contents

-I had my antique etc etc pistol all loaded and ready to go. well polished so i could go out with dignity, with a beautiful piece of hardware. but then i couldn't find my 17th century hand mirror... my whole life, i could not find my head without looking in the mirror. picking my nose would usually result in me poking my eye or sucking my middle finger. so i had no mirror.... i was ready to go, and I wanted to shoot perfectly in my right temple. that's how i planned it... but i had no mirror.... so i decided-- i decided to live, because a re-run of parker lewis can't lose just came on some shit cable channel, and this episode-- boy, I loved this episode. it turns out, it'd be the episode that saved my life.

 

 

 

-my pubic hair was in a mess. i was right about to hang myself- nude and oiled up, muscles rippling from 7 years of hardcore calisthenics- but i looked down, right when my silk necktie tickled my freshly shaven chin... I looked down, and my pubez were just a mess. It was like a jungle of bullshit in a shoebox diorama, made by a 4th grader who didn't give a shit about dinosaurs. It was like mound of venus fly trap, because indeed, there were several decomposing flies. It was like i had focused so much on the texture of my hairwax and was too concerned with the boxy, rounded notes of my lavender essential oil cologne, that i did not- for the love of what i thought was life-- I did not have time to groom my crotch. Gosh, it was a mess. Inbetween the frantic, nearly-vibrating black wires of pube, were vagina-juice crystalline structures from a girl I'd met at a rave two weeks prior. It might've been the adrenaline rush from the excitement and allure of solving all my problems with a $275 neuse, but I was pretty sure a centipede slithered into my crotch depths and vanished. This..... Thiiis was not good. I was about to die, and all that anyone would ever remember me for, would be the condition of my no-excuse pubez. So I bathed. I washed the shit out of my pubez. Like literally, I think I saw some pebbles of feces go down the drain in that dark-brown, bubbly murk. ...Prolly from that girl I met at the fetish club three weeks prior. And then, I trimmed. Boooy, did I trim. I gross-cut, manicured, refined, and then refined. And that's when I saw it. For the first time in my life, I saw it. I had a beautiful, sunrise-in-spring level of pubic mound perfection. This is something- THIS, I thought- was something I wanted to share with the world. Well, first with random girls of the local nightclub scene. But then... Then, it was gonna be the world. It turns out- beaming into my eyeballs at that point-- those would be the pubez that saved my life.

 

 

 

 

Have you seen this http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0345549/ ? Not the same I know, but immediately reminded me of it.

 

Nope. Sounds like an interesting premise...(?)

 

I don't understand your use of ?

  On 2/1/2014 at 2:12 AM, logakght said:

The day I turned 19 years old (which was last year, læl). I felt weird. It deeply affected me, like, realizing for once life doesn't stops, and changes are needed, whether you like it or not. Expecting the best.

i guess you're young, so you're allowed to think things could possibly be ok. they won't be. buckle up.

  On 2/19/2014 at 12:41 AM, bigs said:

 

  On 2/1/2014 at 2:12 AM, logakght said:

The day I turned 19 years old (which was last year, læl). I felt weird. It deeply affected me, like, realizing for once life doesn't stops, and changes are needed, whether you like it or not. Expecting the best.

 

i guess you're young, so you're allowed to think things could possibly be ok. they won't be. buckle up.

 

Yeah, age becomes pretty fucked up after a while. Your spirit feels the same age, but your body starts changing. I'm turning 27 soon. I feel the same as I did when I was 18. I start thinking about the fact that I'm getting older, and I'm losing the opportunities that can be determined by age. It's a bitch to think about. The fleeting nature of life is a heavy weight all things considered.

without being as blatantly cynical, there have been a few moments that changed me:

1. realizing that, as a smart and creative fellow, i was more or less able to bust my ass and change my life however i wanted (paying off debt, getting jobs, moving).

2. realizing that all of this was only possible because i was a straight white man and that i've been a part of a terrible system my entire life.

3. realizing that sadness doesn't go away. that most of my moments of happiness are more accurately moments of distraction. that there is no purpose and i have no power to create one. that the consumer web products i'll probably spend the rest of my life working on are inconsequential.

once i got there, everything sort of lost its punch. often times, i choose to ignore it and have fun. indulge. waking up is still strange.

  On 2/19/2014 at 12:41 AM, bigs said:

 

  On 2/1/2014 at 2:12 AM, logakght said:

The day I turned 19 years old (which was last year, læl). I felt weird. It deeply affected me, like, realizing for once life doesn't stops, and changes are needed, whether you like it or not. Expecting the best.

 

i guess you're young, so you're allowed to think things could possibly be ok. they won't be. buckle up.

 

  On 2/19/2014 at 12:46 AM, AdieuErsatzEnnui said:

 

  On 2/19/2014 at 12:41 AM, bigs said:

 

  On 2/1/2014 at 2:12 AM, logakght said:

The day I turned 19 years old (which was last year, læl). I felt weird. It deeply affected me, like, realizing for once life doesn't stops, and changes are needed, whether you like it or not. Expecting the best.

 

i guess you're young, so you're allowed to think things could possibly be ok. they won't be. buckle up.

 

 

 

Yeah, age becomes pretty fucked up after a while. Your spirit feels the same age, but your body starts changing. I'm turning 27 soon. I feel the same as I did when I was 18. I start thinking about the fact that I'm getting older, and I'm losing the opportunities that can be determined by age. It's a bitch to think about. The fleeting nature of life is a heavy weight all things considered.

 

Yeah.

I feel really, really weird. Like most IDMz fans, I'm pretty introverted, somehow awkwardly social and, well, not stupid. And that personality has guided my whole life until now... Despite my "young" age, I'm already starting to feel regrets about things I did/didn't do since the day I could think completely by myself. And obviously it feels fucking bad. It really fucks my mind when I think of "what if?" stuff... Really, it breaks my heart... But my worries aren't 100% personal. My generation (maybe those who were born in the 90's) have been facing the quickest advancements in technology in human history. Damn, fucking cryptocurrencies, fucking apps, fucking social media sites, fucking trends, I already feel like an adult not knowing how to turn on a computer, despite I'm just 20yo. Also, how marketing manipulates people mind is mind-blowing for me. People drooling with Flappy Bird and shit like that.. Like, I already feel old. That's why I like to be in my bubble... Like that dude that decided to kill himself because he "had a happy life, and didn't wanted to become old"... I think it was a really cool idea (not saying I'm gonna kill myself (soon ;) )... But yeah. I feel lost.

  On 2/19/2014 at 12:37 AM, AdieuErsatzEnnui said:

 

  On 2/18/2014 at 9:18 PM, peace 7 said:

 

  On 2/18/2014 at 7:01 PM, AdieuErsatzEnnui said:

 

  On 2/18/2014 at 11:28 AM, peace 7 said:

 

  On 2/18/2014 at 9:59 AM, pafr said:

People who commit suicides don't take it seriously enough. It should be an work of art.

I wrote a series based on a dude who keeps on trying to commit suicide, but then he keeps inadvertently saving himself due to wanting the perfect suicide. Inside spoiler are extremely rough notes of a couple story bases... But yah. If you can perfect a suicide, you prolly have the will to do well in life.

 

 

  Reveal hidden contents

-I had my antique etc etc pistol all loaded and ready to go. well polished so i could go out with dignity, with a beautiful piece of hardware. but then i couldn't find my 17th century hand mirror... my whole life, i could not find my head without looking in the mirror. picking my nose would usually result in me poking my eye or sucking my middle finger. so i had no mirror.... i was ready to go, and I wanted to shoot perfectly in my right temple. that's how i planned it... but i had no mirror.... so i decided-- i decided to live, because a re-run of parker lewis can't lose just came on some shit cable channel, and this episode-- boy, I loved this episode. it turns out, it'd be the episode that saved my life.

 

 

 

-my pubic hair was in a mess. i was right about to hang myself- nude and oiled up, muscles rippling from 7 years of hardcore calisthenics- but i looked down, right when my silk necktie tickled my freshly shaven chin... I looked down, and my pubez were just a mess. It was like a jungle of bullshit in a shoebox diorama, made by a 4th grader who didn't give a shit about dinosaurs. It was like mound of venus fly trap, because indeed, there were several decomposing flies. It was like i had focused so much on the texture of my hairwax and was too concerned with the boxy, rounded notes of my lavender essential oil cologne, that i did not- for the love of what i thought was life-- I did not have time to groom my crotch. Gosh, it was a mess. Inbetween the frantic, nearly-vibrating black wires of pube, were vagina-juice crystalline structures from a girl I'd met at a rave two weeks prior. It might've been the adrenaline rush from the excitement and allure of solving all my problems with a $275 neuse, but I was pretty sure a centipede slithered into my crotch depths and vanished. This..... Thiiis was not good. I was about to die, and all that anyone would ever remember me for, would be the condition of my no-excuse pubez. So I bathed. I washed the shit out of my pubez. Like literally, I think I saw some pebbles of feces go down the drain in that dark-brown, bubbly murk. ...Prolly from that girl I met at the fetish club three weeks prior. And then, I trimmed. Boooy, did I trim. I gross-cut, manicured, refined, and then refined. And that's when I saw it. For the first time in my life, I saw it. I had a beautiful, sunrise-in-spring level of pubic mound perfection. This is something- THIS, I thought- was something I wanted to share with the world. Well, first with random girls of the local nightclub scene. But then... Then, it was gonna be the world. It turns out- beaming into my eyeballs at that point-- those would be the pubez that saved my life.

 

 

 

 

Have you seen this http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0345549/ ? Not the same I know, but immediately reminded me of it.

 

Nope. Sounds like an interesting premise...(?)

 

 

I don't understand your use of ?

 

"From what I read, the premise sounds interesting-- what JU TINK BOUT FILM?!"

  On 2/18/2014 at 11:45 PM, Zephyr_Nova said:

It's a pretty good movie.

And those story bases you posted are great. I want to see/read the series.

Senkyuu.

peace7, luv it!!!

Zephyr Nova's guide to happiness:

1. Find something you love to do, do it as much as possible.

2. Live for the present moment most of the time. It seems like a lot of people kill the fun they could be having by worrying about some other thing that hasn't happened yet, or dwelling on some shitty thing that already happened.

That's it, that's all I got.

i suffer from number 2

I think most people do. I used to. But now, when I eat a taco my sole life's purpose is eating that taco, and I enjoy the shit out of it. Actually, that was probably true even when I was full of dread and despair (and delicious taco). But dumb analogies aside, I really do think living in the present is key to being happy (unless your in the middle of a dentist appointment or something).

  On 2/19/2014 at 5:15 AM, peace 7 said:

 

  On 2/19/2014 at 12:37 AM, AdieuErsatzEnnui said:

 

  On 2/18/2014 at 9:18 PM, peace 7 said:

 

  On 2/18/2014 at 7:01 PM, AdieuErsatzEnnui said:

 

  On 2/18/2014 at 11:28 AM, peace 7 said:

 

  On 2/18/2014 at 9:59 AM, pafr said:

People who commit suicides don't take it seriously enough. It should be an work of art.

I wrote a series based on a dude who keeps on trying to commit suicide, but then he keeps inadvertently saving himself due to wanting the perfect suicide. Inside spoiler are extremely rough notes of a couple story bases... But yah. If you can perfect a suicide, you prolly have the will to do well in life.

 

 

  Reveal hidden contents

-I had my antique etc etc pistol all loaded and ready to go. well polished so i could go out with dignity, with a beautiful piece of hardware. but then i couldn't find my 17th century hand mirror... my whole life, i could not find my head without looking in the mirror. picking my nose would usually result in me poking my eye or sucking my middle finger. so i had no mirror.... i was ready to go, and I wanted to shoot perfectly in my right temple. that's how i planned it... but i had no mirror.... so i decided-- i decided to live, because a re-run of parker lewis can't lose just came on some shit cable channel, and this episode-- boy, I loved this episode. it turns out, it'd be the episode that saved my life.

 

 

 

-my pubic hair was in a mess. i was right about to hang myself- nude and oiled up, muscles rippling from 7 years of hardcore calisthenics- but i looked down, right when my silk necktie tickled my freshly shaven chin... I looked down, and my pubez were just a mess. It was like a jungle of bullshit in a shoebox diorama, made by a 4th grader who didn't give a shit about dinosaurs. It was like mound of venus fly trap, because indeed, there were several decomposing flies. It was like i had focused so much on the texture of my hairwax and was too concerned with the boxy, rounded notes of my lavender essential oil cologne, that i did not- for the love of what i thought was life-- I did not have time to groom my crotch. Gosh, it was a mess. Inbetween the frantic, nearly-vibrating black wires of pube, were vagina-juice crystalline structures from a girl I'd met at a rave two weeks prior. It might've been the adrenaline rush from the excitement and allure of solving all my problems with a $275 neuse, but I was pretty sure a centipede slithered into my crotch depths and vanished. This..... Thiiis was not good. I was about to die, and all that anyone would ever remember me for, would be the condition of my no-excuse pubez. So I bathed. I washed the shit out of my pubez. Like literally, I think I saw some pebbles of feces go down the drain in that dark-brown, bubbly murk. ...Prolly from that girl I met at the fetish club three weeks prior. And then, I trimmed. Boooy, did I trim. I gross-cut, manicured, refined, and then refined. And that's when I saw it. For the first time in my life, I saw it. I had a beautiful, sunrise-in-spring level of pubic mound perfection. This is something- THIS, I thought- was something I wanted to share with the world. Well, first with random girls of the local nightclub scene. But then... Then, it was gonna be the world. It turns out- beaming into my eyeballs at that point-- those would be the pubez that saved my life.

 

 

 

 

Have you seen this http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0345549/ ? Not the same I know, but immediately reminded me of it.

 

Nope. Sounds like an interesting premise...(?)

 

 

I don't understand your use of ?

 

"From what I read, the premise sounds interesting-- what JU TINK BOUT FILM?!"

 

  On 2/18/2014 at 11:45 PM, Zephyr_Nova said:

It's a pretty good movie.

And those story bases you posted are great. I want to see/read the series.

Senkyuu.

 

Haha...Ah, I see it now. It's enjoyable. I saw it years ago and only one time. My critical analysis would be uneducated. My feelings are positive towards the experience. I remember identifying a lot with the protagonist. I was in love at the time though so my opinion cannot be trusted on the matter.