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Literature Text
Today I saw an overweight man, having a meal at Burger King.
I thought: You obese, fat, slobbering glutton. The way you look makes me sick.
Today I saw a group of teenagers laughing noisily in the subway, pushing and shoving each other.
I thought: You obnoxious, stupid, futureless idiots. You have no idea what the real world is like.
Today I saw a child no older than four, lost and crying, shrieking for his mother.
I thought: You noisy, parasitic, whiny monster. Your every need is taken care of, but still you throw tantrums.
Today I saw a retiree hobbling through the park, holding on tight to his walking stick.
I thought: You wrinkled, over-the-hill, waste of space. Life has passed you by so easily.
Today I saw a poor man asleep on the streets, dressed in rags, unkempt and unshaven.
I thought: You booze-addled, filthy, lazy pig. People like you are burdens on the rest of us.
Today I saw a rich man in a tailored suit, on his way to work, hair slicked back and iPad in hand.
I thought: You arrogant, elitist, corporate monkey. You have no right to be richer than me.
Today I saw a guy with long black hair and ripped jeans, smoking and waiting for his bus.
I thought: You angst-filled, pseudo-emo poser. Your little teenage problems are nothing like mine.
Today I saw a girl in shorts and a midriff-baring top, make-up on, ready for a night on the town.
I thought: You materialistic whore. You remind me of the girls I could never get.
Today I saw a lady in a long, shapeless dress, quite plain, hair up in a neat bun.
I thought: You ugly, unwanted old maid. You remind me of the girls who would take me.
Today I saw a black man wearing baggy jeans and a chain round his neck.
I thought: You uneducated, crack-addled ghetto thug. Your culture makes me feel unsafe.
Today I saw a street artist, laughing and doing caricatures of people.
I thought: You worthless, immature idealist. You shouldn't be so happy.
Today I saw a middle-aged man, balding, in a suit and tie, tapping away at his laptop at Starbucks.
I thought: You ambitionless, uninspired, company-issued, mass-produced robot. You look just like me.
Today I went home and saw myself in the mirror.
I thought: I need someone to talk to.
I thought: You obese, fat, slobbering glutton. The way you look makes me sick.
Today I saw a group of teenagers laughing noisily in the subway, pushing and shoving each other.
I thought: You obnoxious, stupid, futureless idiots. You have no idea what the real world is like.
Today I saw a child no older than four, lost and crying, shrieking for his mother.
I thought: You noisy, parasitic, whiny monster. Your every need is taken care of, but still you throw tantrums.
Today I saw a retiree hobbling through the park, holding on tight to his walking stick.
I thought: You wrinkled, over-the-hill, waste of space. Life has passed you by so easily.
Today I saw a poor man asleep on the streets, dressed in rags, unkempt and unshaven.
I thought: You booze-addled, filthy, lazy pig. People like you are burdens on the rest of us.
Today I saw a rich man in a tailored suit, on his way to work, hair slicked back and iPad in hand.
I thought: You arrogant, elitist, corporate monkey. You have no right to be richer than me.
Today I saw a guy with long black hair and ripped jeans, smoking and waiting for his bus.
I thought: You angst-filled, pseudo-emo poser. Your little teenage problems are nothing like mine.
Today I saw a girl in shorts and a midriff-baring top, make-up on, ready for a night on the town.
I thought: You materialistic whore. You remind me of the girls I could never get.
Today I saw a lady in a long, shapeless dress, quite plain, hair up in a neat bun.
I thought: You ugly, unwanted old maid. You remind me of the girls who would take me.
Today I saw a black man wearing baggy jeans and a chain round his neck.
I thought: You uneducated, crack-addled ghetto thug. Your culture makes me feel unsafe.
Today I saw a street artist, laughing and doing caricatures of people.
I thought: You worthless, immature idealist. You shouldn't be so happy.
Today I saw a middle-aged man, balding, in a suit and tie, tapping away at his laptop at Starbucks.
I thought: You ambitionless, uninspired, company-issued, mass-produced robot. You look just like me.
Today I went home and saw myself in the mirror.
I thought: I need someone to talk to.
Literature
curious
his parents called him will, a condensed version for william. to me, "will" was the constant friday nights of his curved thighbone in the midnight air against mine, and scintillating neon lights and 80's music that was etched inside our pupils like crossfires.
david bowie was singing to me through my headphones, and i mumbled to him about will and my uneven forehead, (my skin wasn't clear anymore, either) and how will and i held hands in public restaurants and how my lips were so chapped that they peeled when we first kissed-- but i was seventeen, i had purple constellations doodled on my french homework, and during algebra class i sketched
Literature
how to become a writer
have parents that separate
when you’re in high school;
a father filled with unused anger
and a mother too busy to care.
pretend it doesn’t hurt.
let your friends treat you
like dirt;
after all,
everything is your fault.
listen to their problems with a fake smile
all the while crying out because
everything hurts and no one can see.
press a knife to your skin,
but be too cowardly to
draw your own blood.
fall in love with people
who could never notice you,
because you’re
just. not. good.
enough.
chew on the multicolored
strands of your hair.
(you can’t stop runni
Literature
Lilium
To the wilting lilies on my kitchen counter:
I am reluctant to throw you out.
You bloomed within a day. Well, some of you. I snipped off your blood orange anthers with the kitchen shears, coating my fingertips with pollen before it could dust the slate and stain my clothes. Hand jobs are always easier to clean up.
I forgot to water you once. I'm sorry.
In the mornings I plucked chlorophyll-starved leaves from the countertop and tossed them in the rubbish bin. Your support system fell one by one, even as you still grew and opened up to the world.
Your petals began to turn limp and brown. I cut away the flowers that were no longer beautifu
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DISCLAIMER: I'm not racist in any way, I don't hate overweight people or black people or teenagers or kids or guys with long hair. Work of fiction people, don't sue me.
This piece was studying how nasty, hateful thoughts come so easily to us all. Stereotypes abound in our society. Don't lie, you've thought some of these stuff at least once in your life, whether it was on a bad day, or whatever. But nevertheless, such hate is often bred from problems of our own, like work stress, loneliness, etc etc etc. Misery loves company, and there's no tortured soul who loves the world.
This piece was studying how nasty, hateful thoughts come so easily to us all. Stereotypes abound in our society. Don't lie, you've thought some of these stuff at least once in your life, whether it was on a bad day, or whatever. But nevertheless, such hate is often bred from problems of our own, like work stress, loneliness, etc etc etc. Misery loves company, and there's no tortured soul who loves the world.
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This was excellently said. I really did enjoy reading this and I must say thank you for writing this. This is something a lot more people should see.