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Blatant Misanthropy

by LanguidLiger


Warning: This work has been rated 16+ for language.

Blatant mysanthropy

Fuck this shit, none of it will change history.

It wont even change my parents mind that I'm a loser, a perdedor, a black sheep, with none of the enigma, all of the hostility.

The bastard son who broke the link of prize children. Earth bound, well adjusted, conceded, and admitting nothing.

Never feel guilt. Never feel embarrassment. Never feel that you are anything but your fathers son. So few things bring me joy, but Its hard to stay still.

My head rushes and worries me of pleasures i wont or cannot surmount. My eyes betray anger, frustration, hatred, sub-par fuel for a finicky machine, does it want companionship? Does it want fame? Will it aubstitute with infamy? Am I lying to myself or them?

In public my shell resumes its flimsy facade but my field overseer wont grant me the freedom to not care what they see. I want to share my enlightenment with someone.

But I hate the frivolity of chatter and distraction. My mind spews acid and my conscience assumes a trenchant stare at any who disturb it.

Pleasant thoughts are made flimsy and sterile by acrid chemicals that churn of their own accord, they don't metastisize for the soil is with blight.

I am the linemen at the wheel but not the captain of my soul. I answer to proccesses wholy unstoppable and fractally dismal.

Im outwardly reaching but my taciturn reply leaves much to be desired. Im selective in my friendships and Ive spat on the forheads of decent men for forgiveness from some malevolent god.

Ive spurned the glazed stare of mobs, Surreal visions clouding thier judgment, the lizard brain cutting thier influence in half, the half that held contempt, and the hypocritic luagh.

I've participated in such things, a bystander, I censored myself for fear of retribution.

I skinned myself and my self righteous liberalism lay bear on a welcome mat to violent lechers.

My enemies dirtied it, my selfsame brothers clawed at it. I didnt stomp on their fingers but I let them wear away. Id been the subject of cruel jest earlier my companion would have joined the lynch mob.

But I cut the scapegoat from his whipping post and he took a pound of flesh with him never alloted. My flesh, he took to his tormenters.

Devils advocate his chosen lie. All I can do now is feel a singeing disgust at my submissive nature.

And regret and ring bells selling repentance for respect.

But Why did I not then free my self same moderate? Fear my friend , it is real but irrelevant.


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208 Reviews


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Tue Jul 08, 2014 2:19 pm
rhiasofia wrote a review...



Hello, rhia here to review! I'm going to start with grammar and sentence correction, little nitpicky things, and then I'll tell you what I like.

It wont even change my parents mind that I'm a loser

*won't

The bastard son who broke the link of prize children. Earth bound, well adjusted, conceded, and admitting nothing.

I might suggest a semicolon after "of prize children" instead of the period. It would allow for a smoother transition between the two clauses, whereas now it's a little disjointed.

So few things bring me joy, but Its hard to stay still.

*it's

My head rushes and worries me of pleasures i wont or cannot surmount

Now, I don't usually nitpick capitalisation, so the only reason I will here is because sometimes you capitalize I, sometimes you don't. I think you should just pick one. Unless, of course, there's a correlation between whether the I (as in narrator) is feeling superior (and thus a capitalized I) or degraded and weak (thus a lowercase i), in which case I think you should leave it be. But I'm not sure that that's what it is.

My eyes betray anger, frustration and hatred.

This line just left me wanting more. The rest of the poem is made of strong imagery and uses very advanced vocabulary, then with this line, it's just so much weaker. It has so much potential if you just show, don't tell. I want to see these emotions in your eyes as I read, not be told that they are there.

I answer to proccesses wholy

*wholly

Im outwardly reaching but my taciturn reply leaves much to be desired. Im selective in my friendships and Ive spat on the forheads of decent men for forgiveness from some malevolent god.

Ive spurned the glazed stare of mobs, Surreal visions clouding thier judgment, the lizard brain cutting thier influence in half, the half that held contempt, and the hypocritic luagh.

*I'm x2
*I've x2
*"stares" b/c mobs is plural
* surreal doesn't need a capital s
*should be hypocritical
*should be spelled "laugh"

My enemies dirtied it, my selfsame brothers clawed at it. I didnt stomp on their fingers but I let them wear away. Id been the subject of cruel jest earlier my companion would have joined the lynch mob.

*didn't
*I'd
The third sentence here is sort of confusing. It doesn't quite make sense. I feel like you probably just left out a word or something, so I suggest rereading it and clarifying.

All I can do now is feel a singing disgust at my submissive nature.

*I think you might mean singeing. I thought that singeing looked sort of funny, so I looked it up, and it actually is the gerund form of singe, so.

There are probably a few other things that could be worded better, so maybe just read through and see if everything flows or sounds right.

I hope all the nitpicks weren't annoying, I just know that it's hard to notice your own little mistakes sometimes, and so few people actually take the time to tell you where you made them when they review. Maybe I was helpful.

The overall poem, you did really well at capturing anger; at yourself, at others. The title was great, it really caught my attention. You had really unique similes and metaphors, great diction, and you were just fiery and passionate all the way through, and I loved that. I think, if neatened up a bit, it will be just amazing.




LanguidLiger says...


No please, by all means nitpick! I don't really have an eye for errors but singed did pique my bs meter. In short Im flattered, thank you for our constructive criticism, and I hope to encounter you again on this site (:



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Tue Jul 08, 2014 10:53 am
EmeraldEyes wrote a review...



Hello.

I'm not exactly sure what this work was, but it seemed like a bit of a rant.
Given the form it takes I think it would be better suited to a blog post actually.
I can't assess the characters, apart from the protagonist, because there aren't any.
Are they male or female? It's difficult to tell.
What is their motivation?

But I cut the scapegoat from his whipping post and he took a pound of flesh with him never alloted. My flesh, he took to his tormenters.
You use a lot of violent language and it feels a bit like a personal attack. If this was what you were going for, then well done. :)

You seem like an interesting writer. Although, some of your sentences are a bit long, you need a few more commas and full stops. In general, this work was just very angry. :D




LanguidLiger says...


It was sort of like a narration on hypocrisy. Thanks for the review.



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Tue Jul 08, 2014 3:10 am
Corncob wrote a review...



Wow.
Your descriptions are great. Amazing. Powerful. So powerful.
This border lines as a rant, but the title does it justice.
I suggest you divide this piece of work up into paragraphs so it doesn't take on the format of a bitter rant. It will make your work a whole lot more powerful.
Secondly, I spy with my little eye a lot of punctuation and spelling errors. Right off the bat, there should be an apostrophe in wont (won't). I'm should be capitalized. Admiting should be admitting. Etc.
Reread this, edit in all the needed punctuation and grammar, and correct all the spelling mistakes.
Honestly, this seems like it is written by a professional writer. You show great potential and have portrayed great works. Keep writing, my friend.
Overall rating: 8/10 (the only reason you got two points off is because of the above mentioned)
+1 (my nickname)




LanguidLiger says...


Than you for your time. I'll take these things to heart.



Corncob says...


Thanks for editing it-it is easier to read now :)



LanguidLiger says...


(:




I am big enough to admit I am often inspired by myself.
— Leslie Knope