It's morning, I'm wobbling about, then standing still. A sudden event has arisen which needs my direct attention. I watch and contemplate curiously about the floor closing in. I smash my head into the floor. Blackout. I wake up on the floor, seeing blood all around me. The room is spinning like a roulette wheel, PLACE YOUR BETS! It's midday, I need to take my medication. Shit, I'm out, I have to go get more at the pharmacy. I wash the blood off my head and face. Proceeding out to buy my anti-depressants, sleeping pills, and anti-anxiety pills. Shit again, the closest pharmacy is closed. Now I have to go all the way downtown. I get on the tram, feeling alcohol-abstinence kicking in, I'm shaking. I get off and head in to the pharmacy, wait for my turn, buy my anti-depressants, then as I receive them I immediately swallow one. Thinking, this doesn't look weird at all.
I'm hungry. Home is too far, my dad's place is nearer. I know he's at work at the moment, I'll just make some dinner and go home again. I get on another tram and feel the anti-depressant kicking in, feels nice. I open his apartment door, make myself an entrance and prepare dinner. Potatoes with meat, cabbage, fried paprika and chanterelle. I'm shaking and feel the need to drink again, anxiety is kicking in. I call my mother, "Hi it's Johannes.", "Hi! How are you?", "Fine.." Shaking uncontrollably at this moment, "I'm at the hospital with grandmother" my mother proceeds. "Okay, I need money.", "I can't give you any right now I need to stay at the hospital with her.", "Alright, fine".
We end the call. The anti-depressant is really annoying my intestines, I let out a fart. I feel something pouring out in my pants. "No! That did just not happen." I take off my pants and underwear to check them, oh god. I have just shit myself, and I am miles from home. There's a big brown spot at the back of my pants. So my solution is this: I brush off as much shit as possible with toilet paper, leave my underwear in a plastic bag and put on my pants. I now have to head home, 40 minute ride in a tram... with my underwear in a plastic bag.
I get on the tram, sit in the back. Hoping I don't smell. So I start to feel alcohol-abstinence intensely, anxiety rises, my heart is pounding and I'm sweating. But I can't help but smile at the fact that I'm sitting here, with shit in my pants and a shitty pair of underwear in a plastic bag. I'm starting to desperately feel the need to take a shit. Why didn't I take a dump at my dad's place??? Well I get off the tram, I am at home at last. Walking fast to my apartment, opening the door, tossing in the bag with shitty underwear, runs to toilet and fuck! No toilet paper. I go out again for the nearest supermarket, I collect a whole lot of beer and toilet paper. Standing in line. This is torture, my heart is pounding like I just ran a mile, sweat is flowing down my forehead. And panic hits me like a tsunami.
I pay with my card as usual and the cashier tells me I only can afford either the beer, or the toilet paper. I think "SHIT!", this is the line, this choice, I think defines me as an alcoholic. So I went, "I'll take the beer...", and I walk home. So I'm sitting here again, drunk and bound to do something stupid. With an incredible need to take a shit. I think you pass the line of being an alcoholic when you find yourself wiping your ass with a sock and have a big dent in your head.
[highlight](User was banned for this post ("This is not a thread for general discussion" - verynicelady))[/highlight]
[QUOTE=Memnoth;31883113]It's morning, I'm wobbling about, then standing still. A sudden event has arisen which needs my direct attention. I watch and contemplate curiously about the floor closing in. I smash my head into the floor. Blackout. I wake up on the floor, seeing blood all around me. The room is spinning like a roulette wheel, PLACE YOUR BETS! It's midday, I need to take my medication. Shit, I'm out, I have to go get more at the pharmacy. I wash the blood off my head and face. Proceeding out to buy my anti-depressants, sleeping pills, and anti-anxiety pills. Shit again, the closest pharmacy is closed. Now I have to go all the way downtown. I get on the tram, feeling alcohol-abstinence kicking in, I'm shaking. I get off and head in to the pharmacy, wait for my turn, buy my anti-depressants, then as I receive them I immediately swallow one. Thinking, this doesn't look weird at all.
I'm hungry. Home is too far, my dad's place is nearer. I know he's at work at the moment, I'll just make some dinner and go home again. I get on another tram and feel the anti-depressant kicking in, feels nice. I open his apartment door, make myself an entrance and prepare dinner. Potatoes with meat, cabbage, fried paprika and chanterelle. I'm shaking and feel the need to drink again, anxiety is kicking in. I call my mother, "Hi it's Johannes.", "Hi! How are you?", "Fine.." Shaking uncontrollably at this moment, "I'm at the hospital with grandmother" my mother proceeds. "Okay, I need money.", "I can't give you any right now I need to stay at the hospital with her.", "Alright, fine".
We end the call. The anti-depressant is really annoying my intestines, I let out a fart. I feel something pouring out in my pants. "No! That did just not happen." I take off my pants and underwear to check them, oh god. I have just shit myself, and I am miles from home. There's a big brown spot at the back of my pants. So my solution is this: I brush off as much shit as possible with toilet paper, leave my underwear in a plastic bag and put on my pants. I now have to head home, 40 minute ride in a tram... with my underwear in a plastic bag.
I get on the tram, sit in the back. Hoping I don't smell. So I start to feel alcohol-abstinence intensely, anxiety rises, my heart is pounding and I'm sweating. But I can't help but smile at the fact that I'm sitting here, with shit in my pants and a shitty pair of underwear in a plastic bag. I'm starting to desperately feel the need to take a shit. Why didn't I take a dump at my dad's place??? Well I get off the tram, I am at home at last. Walking fast to my apartment, opening the door, tossing in the bag with shitty underwear, runs to toilet and fuck! No toilet paper. I go out again for the nearest supermarket, I collect a whole lot of beer and toilet paper. Standing in line. This is torture, my heart is pounding like I just ran a mile, sweat is flowing down my forehead. And panic hits me like a tsunami.
I pay with my card as usual and the cashier tells me I only can afford either the beer, or the toilet paper. I think "SHIT!", this is the line, this choice, I think defines me as an alcoholic. So I went, "I'll take the beer...", and I walk home. So I'm sitting here again, drunk and bound to do something stupid. With an incredible need to take a shit. I think you pass the line of being an alcoholic when you find yourself wiping your ass with a sock and have a big dent in your head.[/QUOTE]
You need help, bro.
I feel like you're seeking attention, just from the way you wrote this.
[QUOTE=Memnoth;31883113]It's morning, I'm wobbling about, then standing still. A sudden event has arisen which needs my direct attention. I watch and contemplate curiously about the floor closing in. I smash my head into the floor. Blackout. I wake up on the floor, seeing blood all around me. The room is spinning like a roulette wheel, PLACE YOUR BETS! It's midday, I need to take my medication. Shit, I'm out, I have to go get more at the pharmacy. I wash the blood off my head and face. Proceeding out to buy my anti-depressants, sleeping pills, and anti-anxiety pills. Shit again, the closest pharmacy is closed. Now I have to go all the way downtown. I get on the tram, feeling alcohol-abstinence kicking in, I'm shaking. I get off and head in to the pharmacy, wait for my turn, buy my anti-depressants, then as I receive them I immediately swallow one. Thinking, this doesn't look weird at all.
I'm hungry. Home is too far, my dad's place is nearer. I know he's at work at the moment, I'll just make some dinner and go home again. I get on another tram and feel the anti-depressant kicking in, feels nice. I open his apartment door, make myself an entrance and prepare dinner. Potatoes with meat, cabbage, fried paprika and chanterelle. I'm shaking and feel the need to drink again, anxiety is kicking in. I call my mother, "Hi it's Johannes.", "Hi! How are you?", "Fine.." Shaking uncontrollably at this moment, "I'm at the hospital with grandmother" my mother proceeds. "Okay, I need money.", "I can't give you any right now I need to stay at the hospital with her.", "Alright, fine".
We end the call. The anti-depressant is really annoying my intestines, I let out a fart. I feel something pouring out in my pants. "No! That did just not happen." I take off my pants and underwear to check them, oh god. I have just shit myself, and I am miles from home. There's a big brown spot at the back of my pants. So my solution is this: I brush off as much shit as possible with toilet paper, leave my underwear in a plastic bag and put on my pants. I now have to head home, 40 minute ride in a tram... with my underwear in a plastic bag.
I get on the tram, sit in the back. Hoping I don't smell. So I start to feel alcohol-abstinence intensely, anxiety rises, my heart is pounding and I'm sweating. But I can't help but smile at the fact that I'm sitting here, with shit in my pants and a shitty pair of underwear in a plastic bag. I'm starting to desperately feel the need to take a shit. Why didn't I take a dump at my dad's place??? Well I get off the tram, I am at home at last. Walking fast to my apartment, opening the door, tossing in the bag with shitty underwear, runs to toilet and fuck! No toilet paper. I go out again for the nearest supermarket, I collect a whole lot of beer and toilet paper. Standing in line. This is torture, my heart is pounding like I just ran a mile, sweat is flowing down my forehead. And panic hits me like a tsunami.
I pay with my card as usual and the cashier tells me I only can afford either the beer, or the toilet paper. I think "SHIT!", this is the line, this choice, I think defines me as an alcoholic. So I went, "I'll take the beer...", and I walk home. So I'm sitting here again, drunk and bound to do something stupid. With an incredible need to take a shit. I think you pass the line of being an alcoholic when you find yourself wiping your ass with a sock and have a big dent in your head.[/QUOTE]
Starts out good, but everything's a little too fast. I can't really think of a title for this chapter, but if you put more emphasis on the roulette wheel, you might be able to make some kind of gambling reference. Actually, that could be a good base for your character, a gambler/alcohol addict. Now, what category will you be posting this in?
This totally sounds like the prologue to some weird erotic novel.
Holy shit learn how to use variation in starting sentences.
Every other sentence starts with "I this/that/whatever."
There's times where repetition helps drive a literary nail, but in this case it's just annoying and makes it look like a 6th grader wrote it.
[QUOTE=Mr.Dounut;31883267]I feel like you're seeking attention, just from the way you wrote this.[/QUOTE]
I think the way I wrote this, more suggests my genetic predisposition to understand and create communication.
Aspergers
How do you get up in the morning?
[QUOTE=humpalump;31883414]Aspergers[/QUOTE]
ass burgers?
[QUOTE=Gubbinz96;31883451]How do you get up in the morning?[/QUOTE]
This.
Like, how have you not somehow died from having such a fucked up life?
He's autistic, I'm surprised you guys all expect some handwritten essay that looks like it was written by a famous author or something, just roll with it
[QUOTE=Durabeam;31883521]He's autistic, I'm surprised you guys all expect some handwritten essay that looks like it was written by a famous author or something, just roll with it[/QUOTE]
Yeah, the expectation that it's going to be written on the level of [U]The Great Gatsby[/U] is stupid. Plus, he [B]was drunk[/B] when he typed it.
Is this some kind of copypasta? Where is the spaghetti?
I actually think it was written on par with The Great Gatsby.
[QUOTE=Dr. Deeps;31883199]You need help, bro.[/QUOTE]
No! I need more alcohol.
[QUOTE=Memnoth;31883685]No! I need more alcohol.[/QUOTE]
No.
Can we somehow find this guys family and get an intervention set up?
[QUOTE=Memnoth;31883113]It's morning, I'm wobbling about, then standing still. A sudden event has arisen which needs my direct attention. I watch and contemplate curiously about the floor closing in. I smash my head into the floor. Blackout. I wake up on the floor, seeing blood all around me. The room is spinning like a roulette wheel, PLACE YOUR BETS! It's midday, I need to take my medication. Shit, I'm out, I have to go get more at the pharmacy. I wash the blood off my head and face. Proceeding out to buy my anti-depressants, sleeping pills, and anti-anxiety pills. Shit again, the closest pharmacy is closed. Now I have to go all the way downtown. I get on the tram, feeling alcohol-abstinence kicking in, I'm shaking. I get off and head in to the pharmacy, wait for my turn, buy my anti-depressants, then as I receive them I immediately swallow one. Thinking, this doesn't look weird at all.
I'm hungry. Home is too far, my dad's place is nearer. I know he's at work at the moment, I'll just make some dinner and go home again. I get on another tram and feel the anti-depressant kicking in, feels nice. I open his apartment door, make myself an entrance and prepare dinner. Potatoes with meat, cabbage, fried paprika and chanterelle. I'm shaking and feel the need to drink again, anxiety is kicking in. I call my mother, "Hi it's Johannes.", "Hi! How are you?", "Fine.." Shaking uncontrollably at this moment, "I'm at the hospital with grandmother" my mother proceeds. "Okay, I need money.", "I can't give you any right now I need to stay at the hospital with her.", "Alright, fine".
We end the call. The anti-depressant is really annoying my intestines, I let out a fart. I feel something pouring out in my pants. "No! That did just not happen." I take off my pants and underwear to check them, oh god. I have just shit myself, and I am miles from home. There's a big brown spot at the back of my pants. So my solution is this: I brush off as much shit as possible with toilet paper, leave my underwear in a plastic bag and put on my pants. I now have to head home, 40 minute ride in a tram... with my underwear in a plastic bag.
I get on the tram, sit in the back. Hoping I don't smell. So I start to feel alcohol-abstinence intensely, anxiety rises, my heart is pounding and I'm sweating. But I can't help but smile at the fact that I'm sitting here, with shit in my pants and a shitty pair of underwear in a plastic bag. I'm starting to desperately feel the need to take a shit. Why didn't I take a dump at my dad's place??? Well I get off the tram, I am at home at last. Walking fast to my apartment, opening the door, tossing in the bag with shitty underwear, runs to toilet and fuck! No toilet paper. I go out again for the nearest supermarket, I collect a whole lot of beer and toilet paper. Standing in line. This is torture, my heart is pounding like I just ran a mile, sweat is flowing down my forehead. And panic hits me like a tsunami.
I pay with my card as usual and the cashier tells me I only can afford either the beer, or the toilet paper. I think "SHIT!", this is the line, this choice, I think defines me as an alcoholic. So I went, "I'll take the beer...", and I walk home. So I'm sitting here again, drunk and bound to do something stupid. With an incredible need to take a shit. I think you pass the line of being an alcoholic when you find yourself wiping your ass with a sock and have a big dent in your head.[/QUOTE]
Buy your medicine online and get it posted.
Use phone/internet banking.
Get your alcohol delivered.
Wash yourself in your shower.
jesus christ
[QUOTE=Contag;31883733]Buy your medicine online and get it posted.
Use phone/internet banking.
Get your alcohol delivered.
Wash yourself in your shower.
jesus christ[/QUOTE]
Or, you know, he could go into rehab.
[QUOTE=Memnoth;31883685]No! I need more alcohol.[/QUOTE]
drink more and write a book on your life
make money
buy a disused nuclear war bunker and get all your shit delivered
[editline]23rd August 2011[/editline]
[QUOTE=Dr. Deeps;31883753]Or, you know, he could go into rehab.[/QUOTE]
That would be the smart thing to do, but people are generally past the smart thing to do when they're shitting themselves on the train, and using a sock to wipe their ass.
[QUOTE=Contag;31883755]drink more and write a book on your life
make money
buy a disused nuclear war bunker and get all your shit delivered
[editline]23rd August 2011[/editline]
That would be the smart thing to do, but people are generally past the smart thing to do when they're shitting themselves on the train, and using a sock to wipe their ass.[/QUOTE]
And being alcoholics.
I like how there was no dramatic pause the moment you had to choose between TP and beer. :v:
Hoookay. OP seriously needs help.
But seriously you need help dude
People actually believe this shit.
Yeah why not? It is not that it is not believable or anything like that, besides I have a friend who is kinda like this. Hey op get some help you might be able to feel better if you were to.
What the hell did I just read? [img]http://sae.tweek.us/static/images/emoticons/emot-psyduck.gif[/img]
My wallet smells like shit.
[editline]22nd August 2011[/editline]
I laughed at the person rating me dumb. Everyone is like "Haha, he shit himself" and one person is like "He shit himself, I wouldn't do that, that's dumb".
[QUOTE=Memnoth;31884335]My wallet smells like shit.[/QUOTE]
Wash it. :rolleyes:
[QUOTE=Memnoth;31884335]My wallet smells like shit.
[editline]22nd August 2011[/editline]
I laughed at the person rating me dumb. Everyone is like "Haha, he shit himself" and one person is like "He shit himself, I wouldn't do that, that's dumb".[/QUOTE]
I rated you dumb because you need fucking help but you're too ignorant to get help. Asshole.
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