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"
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SELECTION:1[WP] The most hateful, spiteful, bitter confession of undying love.
DELAY0=8
RESPONSE0: Mind if I take a different approach? It's infatuation but also hate: hate because he never loved her.
I'm hanging from the walls, trailing onto the floor, swimming in smoke. The room is filled with his breath and hers, it hits me hard and bitter and rusts my eyes. He's kissing her in the drunken sweat, a smile dripping from his lips, a fag still in his fingers. And I'm watching.
Nothing ever came of me, when he left. When he spat on my body and stomped on my skin with crow black, slick shoes. His spiked tongue ravished me and then I was nothing.
She laughs inwardly, her hair of wires collapse in front of her face. Her sweet little spice: speckled with gold freckles and embroidered with green eyes. Fuck you.
He drapes his hands on her waist and my head lolls. Their fingers grip harder onto each other as the air gets heavier, until I'm drunk, until I'm blind, until I'm crumbling. Stop. And then I'm tearing at my skin, I'm trembling and sweating.
"I hate you." I whisper through my breath. Then he's over me and he's hitting me and she's laughing. She's laughing.
So I'm hanging from the walls, trailing onto the floor and swimming in the smoke.
DELAY1=0
RESPONSE1:
There is some inescapable part of me that yearns for you- and not just for your rough, cracked hands to lift my head by my intrusive chin and tell me that I'm handsome, or to run them down my arms and back up again, teasing me (encouraging me, even) to let go, and give in- but there's an element to me that flows through my body like sticky sweet blood that powers me, it moves me. And you know it.
You know that you drive me insane. I'm sorry that I can't give it all back to you. But you know that you have this ability to drive me wild and you manipulate it like you do me; every move is planned and has its purpose, like you're folding me into origami- a sitting duck, floating on a pool that's drenched in your aura, your fucking charm. You disgust me.
But, you rule me. I'm a slave to you. If you held my head down in that pool, I'd be blessed and rather then cry out "dear God, save me!" I'd only find the words to thank him for giving me what I've always wanted. You. I want you. Unfortunately for me, God has abandoned me- or at least he doesn't acknowledge me and that's more then I can say for you. Rather than be benevolent or silent, you torture me and you punish me for what I can have. I can have you- you know I can, otherwise you wouldn't abuse my affection so liberally, dragging me on, leaning in a little too close, whispering a little too soft, drawing my hand to yours and pressing it ever so slightly against your thigh- I could have you, if I wanted. And that's just the problem.
I don't want you. I don't, I don't, I don't. But I need you. You are a horrid person; I abhor myself for knowing that there is a capacity in me to fall so hard for someone that I'd call against my very nature. But you're also intoxicating. You've bewitched me; I'm drunk, I'm st
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"
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SELECTION:1[WP] The most hateful, spiteful, bitter confession of undying love.
DELAY0=5
RESPONSE0: **This is the first piece of writing I've ever submitted that isn't a dramatic monologue, some constructive criticism would be much appreciated as I have no idea what I'm doing**
"Just shut the fuck up for a second will you? It pains me to say this just as much as it pains you to hear it so could you do us both a massive favour and not utter a single syllable for the next two minutes or so?" I pause, taking in his gaze. I'm on the receiving end of the look. The one he always gives me when I outsmart him, which I get far more often then he'd like to think. I close my eyes in thought, disguising it as an elongated blink.
"Are you o-"
"What did I just tell you?" I snap
"My sincere apologies" he replies, scraping back his stupidly gorgeous ginger hair. My thoughts fumble around struggling to find the words which will tell the man who I could only describe as my mortal enemy that I... Ok, mortal enemy is a little strong, but it does take a worrying amount of effort to contain the desire to hit him around the face with a copy of War and Peace. Ok, I've been silent for far too long now, he's starting to smile. The bastard. Oh just spit it out.
"Right-O, I'm more angry with myself about this for being a pathetic little shit but you listen up. I love you. I know this is a terribly unfortunate turn of events given that the only reason we have to share oxygen is the fact that we're both in the brass section of the orchestra, and in all honesty I often can't stand the sight of you. However, this is often outweighed by the longing to hear your stupid nasal voice."
"Jess-" he struggles
"SHUT UP. Right, I think this would be better if I do this clinically so I'm just going to list the reasons why I love you and then I'm going to walk away"
He laughs and I scowl
"So...I love how delightfully skilled you are in the art
DELAY1=0
RESPONSE1:
There is some inescapable part of me that yearns for you- and not just for your rough, cracked hands to lift my head by my intrusive chin and tell me that I'm handsome, or to run them down my arms and back up again, teasing me (encouraging me, even) to let go, and give in- but there's an element to me that flows through my body like sticky sweet blood that powers me, it moves me. And you know it.
You know that you drive me insane. I'm sorry that I can't give it all back to you. But you know that you have this ability to drive me wild and you manipulate it like you do me; every move is planned and has its purpose, like you're folding me into origami- a sitting duck, floating on a pool that's drenched in your aura, your fucking charm. You disgust me.
But, you rule me. I'm a slave to you. If you held my head down in that pool, I'd be blessed and rather then cry out "dear God, save me!" I'd only find the words to thank him for giving me what I've always wanted. You. I want you. Unfortunately for me, God has abandoned me- or at least he doesn't acknowledge me and that's more then I can say for you. Rather than be benevolent or silent, you torture me and you punish me for what I can have. I can have you- you know I can, otherwise you wouldn't abuse my affection so liberally, dragging me on, leaning in a little too close, whispering a little too soft, drawing my hand to yours and pressing it ever so slightly against your thigh- I could have you, if I wanted. And that's just the problem.
I don't want you. I don't, I don't, I don't. But I need you. You are a horrid person; I abhor myself for knowing that there is a capacity in me to fall so hard for someone that I'd call against my very nature. But you're also intoxicating. You've bewitched me; I'm drunk, I'm st
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SELECTION:1[WP] The most hateful, spiteful, bitter confession of undying love.
DELAY0=0
RESPONSE0:
There is some inescapable part of me that yearns for you- and not just for your rough, cracked hands to lift my head by my intrusive chin and tell me that I'm handsome, or to run them down my arms and back up again, teasing me (encouraging me, even) to let go, and give in- but there's an element to me that flows through my body like sticky sweet blood that powers me, it moves me. And you know it.
You know that you drive me insane. I'm sorry that I can't give it all back to you. But you know that you have this ability to drive me wild and you manipulate it like you do me; every move is planned and has its purpose, like you're folding me into origami- a sitting duck, floating on a pool that's drenched in your aura, your fucking charm. You disgust me.
But, you rule me. I'm a slave to you. If you held my head down in that pool, I'd be blessed and rather then cry out "dear God, save me!" I'd only find the words to thank him for giving me what I've always wanted. You. I want you. Unfortunately for me, God has abandoned me- or at least he doesn't acknowledge me and that's more then I can say for you. Rather than be benevolent or silent, you torture me and you punish me for what I can have. I can have you- you know I can, otherwise you wouldn't abuse my affection so liberally, dragging me on, leaning in a little too close, whispering a little too soft, drawing my hand to yours and pressing it ever so slightly against your thigh- I could have you, if I wanted. And that's just the problem.
I don't want you. I don't, I don't, I don't. But I need you. You are a horrid person; I abhor myself for knowing that there is a capacity in me to fall so hard for someone that I'd call against my very nature. But you're also intoxicating. You've bewitched me; I'm drunk, I'm st
DELAY1=8
RESPONSE1: You are an idiot. And you can't stop being an idiot. One would think there'd be a limit to how much stupid can be present in a person at any given time, but you have proved me wrong. And you prove me wrong everyday.
You are a fool. You bandy out your limitless idiocy in soaring heaps to everyone you see, gifting it to innocent strangers like blankets infested with smallpox. The countless little games and schemes you play end up driving me, your one and only friend, to insanity.
And the worst part, the very worst part of this all, is that you don't know this. You aren't being malicious. You aren't being cruel. You aren't clever enough to really hurt people on purpose. You genuinely believe your idiocy helps me and others. You think I appreciate your tendency to drag me into your misadventures, the way you make me stumble through life as your damned wet nurse, and your awful, Godawful, puns.
I'm trying to get angry at you. I truly am. But I can't. You're pitiful. You're some brain delayed pet that's pissed on the floor, and every time I get mad at you, you give me that look, that sad expression of shame in your eyes that answers why I'm still your friend.
Idiot.
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SELECTION:1[WP] The most hateful, spiteful, bitter confession of undying love.
DELAY0=0
RESPONSE0:
There is some inescapable part of me that yearns for you- and not just for your rough, cracked hands to lift my head by my intrusive chin and tell me that I'm handsome, or to run them down my arms and back up again, teasing me (encouraging me, even) to let go, and give in- but there's an element to me that flows through my body like sticky sweet blood that powers me, it moves me. And you know it.
You know that you drive me insane. I'm sorry that I can't give it all back to you. But you know that you have this ability to drive me wild and you manipulate it like you do me; every move is planned and has its purpose, like you're folding me into origami- a sitting duck, floating on a pool that's drenched in your aura, your fucking charm. You disgust me.
But, you rule me. I'm a slave to you. If you held my head down in that pool, I'd be blessed and rather then cry out "dear God, save me!" I'd only find the words to thank him for giving me what I've always wanted. You. I want you. Unfortunately for me, God has abandoned me- or at least he doesn't acknowledge me and that's more then I can say for you. Rather than be benevolent or silent, you torture me and you punish me for what I can have. I can have you- you know I can, otherwise you wouldn't abuse my affection so liberally, dragging me on, leaning in a little too close, whispering a little too soft, drawing my hand to yours and pressing it ever so slightly against your thigh- I could have you, if I wanted. And that's just the problem.
I don't want you. I don't, I don't, I don't. But I need you. You are a horrid person; I abhor myself for knowing that there is a capacity in me to fall so hard for someone that I'd call against my very nature. But you're also intoxicating. You've bewitched me; I'm drunk, I'm st
DELAY1=3
RESPONSE1: I have determined that you have no heart, no soul. Maybe I shouldn’t have waited so long to write this to you, but I shouldn’t have had to. You’ve seen me, watched the way I act around you. You can’t even begin to pretend that you didn’t know that I have loved you for years.
Has that mattered to you? No. Not one bit. No, instead you have taken advantage of my kindness and affection for you, and you have abused my emotions and my desires to the point of no return. I was there for you when you needed help so many times, fixed your car, gave you the money you needed when things got down, even consoled you when your myriad boyfriends turned out to be the douches I always told you they were.
And yet, here I still am, pining my time away on someone who could care less. God, it’s infuriating. I wish that when you first realized that I was in love with you, you had pushed me away then. That would have been easier than this daily torment you submit me to, keeping me close yet always out of arms’ reach. All of the shit you’ve put me through, and here I still am, melodramatically penning my sappy, uncontrollable emotions to a woman I already know I’ll never have, because she’s the bitch that will never return my love.
Sorry I called you a bitch. You know I don’t mean it...
I just...I don’t know what to do. Tell me what to do. Is it possible that you will ever care about me the way I care about you? Is it possible that I will ever grow the balls to actually give you this letter, call you out for treating me like this?
Will I ever be able to get over you?
If you do get this letter...please don’t judge me too harshly. I don’t know that I could take it if you really did cut me out of your life. I hate
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SELECTION:1[WP] The most hateful, spiteful, bitter confession of undying love.
DELAY0=75
RESPONSE0: They met at the park, sitting on a bench. “Really, he’s been a wonderful child,” Ms. Franklin said.
Caroline watched his silhouette from a distance, squinting against the August sun. He swung back and forth on the swing, arms on the chains, legs pumping him forward. Last time she saw him, he was at her breast in the maternity ward. She hoped to God that nobody at school would find out. Nobody did.
“I told him on his birthday last month. I thought at six he was old enough to know.”
“How did he take it?” Caroline asked.
“Well. He said, ‘So you’re not my real mommy?’ I told him that I am and I’m not. I said, ‘I’ll always be your mommy, but you weren’t ever in my belly.’ He understood, but he also told me that he wanted to meet you.”
“I wanted to meet him, too.” She pulled a stick of gum out of her purse — old nervous habit that died hard — and her hands shook as she unwrapped it and put it in her mouth. “I think I’m ready. Could you call him over?”
Ms. Franklin called his name and he jumped off of the swing, falling to the ground in a clumsy kindergarten stumble. He picked himself up and ran over, kicking sand in the air with each step.
Caroline smiled at him. Ms. Franklin put her arm on the boy’s shoulder and said, “Richie. This is somebody I want you to meet. Her name is Caroline.”
He smiled back. “Hi, Caroline. Are you my Mommy?”
“Yes, Richie, I’m your mommy.” The words felt funny coming out of Caroline's mouth. She approached him carefully, looking at Ms. Franklin for approval. Ms. Franklin nodded and gave Richie a gentle n
DELAY1=0
RESPONSE1:
There is some inescapable part of me that yearns for you- and not just for your rough, cracked hands to lift my head by my intrusive chin and tell me that I'm handsome, or to run them down my arms and back up again, teasing me (encouraging me, even) to let go, and give in- but there's an element to me that flows through my body like sticky sweet blood that powers me, it moves me. And you know it.
You know that you drive me insane. I'm sorry that I can't give it all back to you. But you know that you have this ability to drive me wild and you manipulate it like you do me; every move is planned and has its purpose, like you're folding me into origami- a sitting duck, floating on a pool that's drenched in your aura, your fucking charm. You disgust me.
But, you rule me. I'm a slave to you. If you held my head down in that pool, I'd be blessed and rather then cry out "dear God, save me!" I'd only find the words to thank him for giving me what I've always wanted. You. I want you. Unfortunately for me, God has abandoned me- or at least he doesn't acknowledge me and that's more then I can say for you. Rather than be benevolent or silent, you torture me and you punish me for what I can have. I can have you- you know I can, otherwise you wouldn't abuse my affection so liberally, dragging me on, leaning in a little too close, whispering a little too soft, drawing my hand to yours and pressing it ever so slightly against your thigh- I could have you, if I wanted. And that's just the problem.
I don't want you. I don't, I don't, I don't. But I need you. You are a horrid person; I abhor myself for knowing that there is a capacity in me to fall so hard for someone that I'd call against my very nature. But you're also intoxicating. You've bewitched me; I'm drunk, I'm st
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SELECTION:1[WP] The most hateful, spiteful, bitter confession of undying love.
DELAY0=7
RESPONSE0: When I gaze back upon the days we spent
So full of love and life and tender sighs
I grimace at the thought that in your eyes
Those days are dreary, bloated, corpulent
Or just mundane - you, in any event
Moved on - and it is this that I despise
That it meant so little - no howls, no cries
No, that is mine, the sadness and resent
And now I am left with one desire
And without hope, tormenting me as though
My chest was torn apart and my heart shown
Weakly beating on its own cruel pyre
Praying to be like you and just let go
These memories and just be left alone
----------
Decided to go poetry a go for a change. I very rarely write poetry (so it may well be awful), but I wanted to do a Sonnet given the tradition of love/gift poetry in the form. Feedback is welcomed.
DELAY1=0
RESPONSE1:
There is some inescapable part of me that yearns for you- and not just for your rough, cracked hands to lift my head by my intrusive chin and tell me that I'm handsome, or to run them down my arms and back up again, teasing me (encouraging me, even) to let go, and give in- but there's an element to me that flows through my body like sticky sweet blood that powers me, it moves me. And you know it.
You know that you drive me insane. I'm sorry that I can't give it all back to you. But you know that you have this ability to drive me wild and you manipulate it like you do me; every move is planned and has its purpose, like you're folding me into origami- a sitting duck, floating on a pool that's drenched in your aura, your fucking charm. You disgust me.
But, you rule me. I'm a slave to you. If you held my head down in that pool, I'd be blessed and rather then cry out "dear God, save me!" I'd only find the words to thank him for giving me what I've always wanted. You. I want you. Unfortunately for me, God has abandoned me- or at least he doesn't acknowledge me and that's more then I can say for you. Rather than be benevolent or silent, you torture me and you punish me for what I can have. I can have you- you know I can, otherwise you wouldn't abuse my affection so liberally, dragging me on, leaning in a little too close, whispering a little too soft, drawing my hand to yours and pressing it ever so slightly against your thigh- I could have you, if I wanted. And that's just the problem.
I don't want you. I don't, I don't, I don't. But I need you. You are a horrid person; I abhor myself for knowing that there is a capacity in me to fall so hard for someone that I'd call against my very nature. But you're also intoxicating. You've bewitched me; I'm drunk, I'm st
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SELECTION:1[WP] The most hateful, spiteful, bitter confession of undying love.
DELAY0=0
RESPONSE0:
There is some inescapable part of me that yearns for you- and not just for your rough, cracked hands to lift my head by my intrusive chin and tell me that I'm handsome, or to run them down my arms and back up again, teasing me (encouraging me, even) to let go, and give in- but there's an element to me that flows through my body like sticky sweet blood that powers me, it moves me. And you know it.
You know that you drive me insane. I'm sorry that I can't give it all back to you. But you know that you have this ability to drive me wild and you manipulate it like you do me; every move is planned and has its purpose, like you're folding me into origami- a sitting duck, floating on a pool that's drenched in your aura, your fucking charm. You disgust me.
But, you rule me. I'm a slave to you. If you held my head down in that pool, I'd be blessed and rather then cry out "dear God, save me!" I'd only find the words to thank him for giving me what I've always wanted. You. I want you. Unfortunately for me, God has abandoned me- or at least he doesn't acknowledge me and that's more then I can say for you. Rather than be benevolent or silent, you torture me and you punish me for what I can have. I can have you- you know I can, otherwise you wouldn't abuse my affection so liberally, dragging me on, leaning in a little too close, whispering a little too soft, drawing my hand to yours and pressing it ever so slightly against your thigh- I could have you, if I wanted. And that's just the problem.
I don't want you. I don't, I don't, I don't. But I need you. You are a horrid person; I abhor myself for knowing that there is a capacity in me to fall so hard for someone that I'd call against my very nature. But you're also intoxicating. You've bewitched me; I'm drunk, I'm st
DELAY1=10
RESPONSE1: You dominate my mind.
You, with your lips red against pale skin. Your teeth smoked black by cigarettes, your liver dark from liquor.
You embody everything I hate. Your mind is barren. You couldn't escape your childhood demons and now you're a drug-afflicted baby thrust into the body of a young woman.
And yet...your glance makes my heart race.
Your flaws are perfection.
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SELECTION:1[WP] The most hateful, spiteful, bitter confession of undying love.
DELAY0=11
RESPONSE0: I fucking hate you. Every time I look at you, my stomach heaves. You make me sick. I feel ill every time I think about you. My head spins and my breath dies - I hate you that fucking much. Every time you touch me my skin crawls with anger. When I talk to you my voice is caught by rage. I just want to scream at you get to out of my life; to stay out of my head. I hate myself for it even more than I hate you, which means I hate you even more. You reduce me to an animal, driven by desire. I fucking hate the way that no matter what I do I can't stop thinkig about you. The way that without you I feel like half a person makes my blood boil. The same repetive images in my head of you touching my fingers, putting your hands on my waist, brushing my cheek make me want to scream. I want to bang my head against the wall until my skull cracks and my brain bursts because of you. I want to hit you in the face and feel you break my arm. I want to feel your strength against mine. Your body with mine. I want to take it all away from you. All your pain, all your sorrow, all your anger, all your hate. I'll take it with me. I would do it all for you because I hate you. I'll hate you until my dying breath becuase I need you to be happy. And that means I can't ever be in love with you... Hate's the next best thing.
DELAY1=0
RESPONSE1:
There is some inescapable part of me that yearns for you- and not just for your rough, cracked hands to lift my head by my intrusive chin and tell me that I'm handsome, or to run them down my arms and back up again, teasing me (encouraging me, even) to let go, and give in- but there's an element to me that flows through my body like sticky sweet blood that powers me, it moves me. And you know it.
You know that you drive me insane. I'm sorry that I can't give it all back to you. But you know that you have this ability to drive me wild and you manipulate it like you do me; every move is planned and has its purpose, like you're folding me into origami- a sitting duck, floating on a pool that's drenched in your aura, your fucking charm. You disgust me.
But, you rule me. I'm a slave to you. If you held my head down in that pool, I'd be blessed and rather then cry out "dear God, save me!" I'd only find the words to thank him for giving me what I've always wanted. You. I want you. Unfortunately for me, God has abandoned me- or at least he doesn't acknowledge me and that's more then I can say for you. Rather than be benevolent or silent, you torture me and you punish me for what I can have. I can have you- you know I can, otherwise you wouldn't abuse my affection so liberally, dragging me on, leaning in a little too close, whispering a little too soft, drawing my hand to yours and pressing it ever so slightly against your thigh- I could have you, if I wanted. And that's just the problem.
I don't want you. I don't, I don't, I don't. But I need you. You are a horrid person; I abhor myself for knowing that there is a capacity in me to fall so hard for someone that I'd call against my very nature. But you're also intoxicating. You've bewitched me; I'm drunk, I'm st
SELECTION:"
| 1
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| 11
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"
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SELECTION:1[WP] The most hateful, spiteful, bitter confession of undying love.
DELAY0=122
RESPONSE0: You know I checked out a long time ago, right? I'm barely even here. A faint whispered echo of the person I used to be before you came along. You fucking whore. You sucked my life away, you sucked the blood from my veins until they shriveled up, paper thin, tearing every time I wrenched away from you. And you will not let me go. You're inside of me. My little tapeworm.
Why do I stay? Well, I suppose I have nothing left. Nothing left but you, baby. You and whoever it is you're fucking tonight. I just wasn't enough, was I? And yet still I aim to please. You have this, this... *hunger.* Carnal, carnivorous. And still I stay. No, you have no fear, no worry, no shame. Because you know. You know I have nowhere else to go, and I wouldn't go if I did.
Look at me. Watch me tear the flesh from my bones, watch me weep bitter tears, watch as I scream out in agony. Just fucking *watch me.* Please.
It hurt my pride the first time you hit me. But I gave up. I stopped calling myself a man a long time ago. I stopped even feeling the blows. The only thing that mattered was that they were directed at *me.* And now you won't even give me that. And now I sit groveling in front of the mirror, hoping the person on the other side will hear me, will acknowledge me. Sometimes I forget that the person in the mirror is me. You forgot that a long time ago.
Can't you hear me, you fucking bitch? Here I am. Your goddamn cuckold. I've been waiting here for you all night. Sitting in my own filth. I can hear the mattress creaking. I *know* you're here. You didn't even bother to go to his place this time. Every moan chips my frozen heart a little further, and you know it. I think you like it. Maybe I could like it too. Is this how you love me now?
The door
DELAY1=0
RESPONSE1:
There is some inescapable part of me that yearns for you- and not just for your rough, cracked hands to lift my head by my intrusive chin and tell me that I'm handsome, or to run them down my arms and back up again, teasing me (encouraging me, even) to let go, and give in- but there's an element to me that flows through my body like sticky sweet blood that powers me, it moves me. And you know it.
You know that you drive me insane. I'm sorry that I can't give it all back to you. But you know that you have this ability to drive me wild and you manipulate it like you do me; every move is planned and has its purpose, like you're folding me into origami- a sitting duck, floating on a pool that's drenched in your aura, your fucking charm. You disgust me.
But, you rule me. I'm a slave to you. If you held my head down in that pool, I'd be blessed and rather then cry out "dear God, save me!" I'd only find the words to thank him for giving me what I've always wanted. You. I want you. Unfortunately for me, God has abandoned me- or at least he doesn't acknowledge me and that's more then I can say for you. Rather than be benevolent or silent, you torture me and you punish me for what I can have. I can have you- you know I can, otherwise you wouldn't abuse my affection so liberally, dragging me on, leaning in a little too close, whispering a little too soft, drawing my hand to yours and pressing it ever so slightly against your thigh- I could have you, if I wanted. And that's just the problem.
I don't want you. I don't, I don't, I don't. But I need you. You are a horrid person; I abhor myself for knowing that there is a capacity in me to fall so hard for someone that I'd call against my very nature. But you're also intoxicating. You've bewitched me; I'm drunk, I'm st
SELECTION:"
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SELECTION:1[WP] The most hateful, spiteful, bitter confession of undying love.
DELAY0=123
RESPONSE0: I'd still have you. Even though you broke my heart in a million pieces that I'll never fit back together. Even though you lied about loving me to make me happy in that moment, for the briefest of moments when I thought you were mine, I was happy.
You walked into the bar that Friday and I felt the electricity between us in a way I'd never believed was real. When you kissed me, it was to my toes, every time, without fail. And that afternoon by the pier when we saw dolphins and you picked me up and spun me around, that's when I begun to fall, hard, harder then I've ever fallen before and harder than I will ever let myself fall again. The intensity of emotion still makes me want to paint the emotion onto canvas so that the rest of the world can know that love exists in the world.
I was finally at the point where I thought, maybe, just maybe, I'd found someone who I could spend the rest of my life with. Never saw you leaving. We were kissing on the couch when you uttered those horrific words, "We need to talk". I fell to the ground that night as I watched your silver hatchback drive away from my apartment. More then that, I fell apart without you. Always the responsible adult, in my grief, I couldn't eat, I forgot to pay my bills, it was all a meaningless empty blur, without you by my side.
You can say, I'm better off without you. You can tell me I'll do better than you, but I don't believe a word of it. And after all that heartbreak, given the chance, I'd still take you back. I still love you, even if you always knew you never wanted me.
DELAY1=0
RESPONSE1:
There is some inescapable part of me that yearns for you- and not just for your rough, cracked hands to lift my head by my intrusive chin and tell me that I'm handsome, or to run them down my arms and back up again, teasing me (encouraging me, even) to let go, and give in- but there's an element to me that flows through my body like sticky sweet blood that powers me, it moves me. And you know it.
You know that you drive me insane. I'm sorry that I can't give it all back to you. But you know that you have this ability to drive me wild and you manipulate it like you do me; every move is planned and has its purpose, like you're folding me into origami- a sitting duck, floating on a pool that's drenched in your aura, your fucking charm. You disgust me.
But, you rule me. I'm a slave to you. If you held my head down in that pool, I'd be blessed and rather then cry out "dear God, save me!" I'd only find the words to thank him for giving me what I've always wanted. You. I want you. Unfortunately for me, God has abandoned me- or at least he doesn't acknowledge me and that's more then I can say for you. Rather than be benevolent or silent, you torture me and you punish me for what I can have. I can have you- you know I can, otherwise you wouldn't abuse my affection so liberally, dragging me on, leaning in a little too close, whispering a little too soft, drawing my hand to yours and pressing it ever so slightly against your thigh- I could have you, if I wanted. And that's just the problem.
I don't want you. I don't, I don't, I don't. But I need you. You are a horrid person; I abhor myself for knowing that there is a capacity in me to fall so hard for someone that I'd call against my very nature. But you're also intoxicating. You've bewitched me; I'm drunk, I'm st
SELECTION:"
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"
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SELECTION:1[WP] The most hateful, spiteful, bitter confession of undying love.
DELAY0=0
RESPONSE0:
There is some inescapable part of me that yearns for you- and not just for your rough, cracked hands to lift my head by my intrusive chin and tell me that I'm handsome, or to run them down my arms and back up again, teasing me (encouraging me, even) to let go, and give in- but there's an element to me that flows through my body like sticky sweet blood that powers me, it moves me. And you know it.
You know that you drive me insane. I'm sorry that I can't give it all back to you. But you know that you have this ability to drive me wild and you manipulate it like you do me; every move is planned and has its purpose, like you're folding me into origami- a sitting duck, floating on a pool that's drenched in your aura, your fucking charm. You disgust me.
But, you rule me. I'm a slave to you. If you held my head down in that pool, I'd be blessed and rather then cry out "dear God, save me!" I'd only find the words to thank him for giving me what I've always wanted. You. I want you. Unfortunately for me, God has abandoned me- or at least he doesn't acknowledge me and that's more then I can say for you. Rather than be benevolent or silent, you torture me and you punish me for what I can have. I can have you- you know I can, otherwise you wouldn't abuse my affection so liberally, dragging me on, leaning in a little too close, whispering a little too soft, drawing my hand to yours and pressing it ever so slightly against your thigh- I could have you, if I wanted. And that's just the problem.
I don't want you. I don't, I don't, I don't. But I need you. You are a horrid person; I abhor myself for knowing that there is a capacity in me to fall so hard for someone that I'd call against my very nature. But you're also intoxicating. You've bewitched me; I'm drunk, I'm st
DELAY1=123
RESPONSE1: I don't really know what to say to you except that I cannot go on knowing how much of a disappointment I am to you. The guilt that I carry is aggregious. My face is scarred with endless tears over you every single night. I have no one to talk to. The only thing I want to do is to be held in your arms. I miss your kiss on my cheek. I hate knowing that everything will not be ok because you are not with me to say so. I don't know what to do with myself anymore. This sense of loss is overbearing. Its consuming my life, its haunting my smile and I have no idea why this has even happened to me. How could you let this happen and not see what you have done. How could you just go on pretending as if I no longer exist? You brought me into this life and you took me out of it in the wave of a hand, in the sound of a dial tone. You hung up on me and never called back. Why? I just want to say goodnight to you and I can't even say hello.
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SELECTION:1[WP] The most hateful, spiteful, bitter confession of undying love.
DELAY0=52
RESPONSE0: Damn him. Damn him because I hate him with everything I have.
But that's not true, is it? It's not. It's not. I hate him because I love him, I love him because I love him, and the hate is only frustration against myself.
It's his wedding but it feels like my funeral. Oh, yes, the wedding, the wonderful wedding where I am supposed to raise my glass and cheer and give a speech without letting an ounce of bitter on my face, the wedding where I will beat myself up for not having her figure or personality, or their relationship, the day I will drink myself sober into realizing we can never be together.
And if we could, I wouldn't do that. No matter how badly I want to, I can't. I shouldn't.
I can't hate her either, though I should. I should hate her dark brown creamy hair that sweeps the air and sweeps his love into her grasp. I should hate her matching brown eyes, two, always two. Two is a couple. Two is a win. Two is a Fibbonanci number.
I want to mutter so is three, but oh three, how unimportant you are when someone is dressed in white.
How I would like to stain her pearly white dress with red wine and pretend I had stabbed her heart like she is doing to mine. How I would like to pretend that I am dancing in her place instead of sitting where I don't belong. How I would like to belong with him.
I go home early, feigning a fever, nursing a heart.
DELAY1=0
RESPONSE1:
There is some inescapable part of me that yearns for you- and not just for your rough, cracked hands to lift my head by my intrusive chin and tell me that I'm handsome, or to run them down my arms and back up again, teasing me (encouraging me, even) to let go, and give in- but there's an element to me that flows through my body like sticky sweet blood that powers me, it moves me. And you know it.
You know that you drive me insane. I'm sorry that I can't give it all back to you. But you know that you have this ability to drive me wild and you manipulate it like you do me; every move is planned and has its purpose, like you're folding me into origami- a sitting duck, floating on a pool that's drenched in your aura, your fucking charm. You disgust me.
But, you rule me. I'm a slave to you. If you held my head down in that pool, I'd be blessed and rather then cry out "dear God, save me!" I'd only find the words to thank him for giving me what I've always wanted. You. I want you. Unfortunately for me, God has abandoned me- or at least he doesn't acknowledge me and that's more then I can say for you. Rather than be benevolent or silent, you torture me and you punish me for what I can have. I can have you- you know I can, otherwise you wouldn't abuse my affection so liberally, dragging me on, leaning in a little too close, whispering a little too soft, drawing my hand to yours and pressing it ever so slightly against your thigh- I could have you, if I wanted. And that's just the problem.
I don't want you. I don't, I don't, I don't. But I need you. You are a horrid person; I abhor myself for knowing that there is a capacity in me to fall so hard for someone that I'd call against my very nature. But you're also intoxicating. You've bewitched me; I'm drunk, I'm st
SELECTION:"
| 1
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| 724
| 52
| 0
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SELECTION:1[WP] The most hateful, spiteful, bitter confession of undying love.
DELAY0=127
RESPONSE0: I fucking _hate_ you.
I'm serious, you know. I actually do hate you. Detest, abhor, loathe. I hate you so much that if you got hit by a train and your disembowelled mutilated body was the front page picture tomorrow, I wouldn't bat an eye. Not an eye_lash_.
I hate every single little thing about you. I hate your legs - your fucking legs, that you use to grip and trap and keep, may they be carved apart slowly, carefully, muscle by muscle, giving you time to scream yourself hoarse in between. I hate your fucking hair, that ensnares and encircles and encompasses, may it get stuck in the churning whirling writhing cogs of some great machine, rip off your scalp from your grinning stupid skull.
I hate your eyes. Your fucking eyes, that shine and blink and call and shut like _a cage_, except not a cage because you can still look _inside_ a cage. I dream, sometimes, of forcing your eyes open, and dripping the finest, finest sand in the world into them. Drip drip drip drip drip through your screaming and begging and bleeding until you are blind, as fucking blind as me. I _hate_ your eyes.
Hate.
Hate. Hate.
I hate your voice. Your brash, guileless, honest voice, with a hint of mockery, except even that's another fucking lie, isn't it, the lie you use as bait. Bait for those too foolish to run away from your royal _fuckingness_. You set the trap for me perfectly, this goddamn perfectly, doing exactly every single thing to make me hate you more.
I hate your hands. Your perfect little pianist's hands - give me a fucking break. You'd never use them to _make_, to _create_. But by god are you good at cutting and ripping and drawing blood. Perfect, surgical cuts, you make, peering with a practised eye, then swiftly snipping until there's nothing but pieces.
I hate your fucking eyes, too. I
DELAY1=0
RESPONSE1:
There is some inescapable part of me that yearns for you- and not just for your rough, cracked hands to lift my head by my intrusive chin and tell me that I'm handsome, or to run them down my arms and back up again, teasing me (encouraging me, even) to let go, and give in- but there's an element to me that flows through my body like sticky sweet blood that powers me, it moves me. And you know it.
You know that you drive me insane. I'm sorry that I can't give it all back to you. But you know that you have this ability to drive me wild and you manipulate it like you do me; every move is planned and has its purpose, like you're folding me into origami- a sitting duck, floating on a pool that's drenched in your aura, your fucking charm. You disgust me.
But, you rule me. I'm a slave to you. If you held my head down in that pool, I'd be blessed and rather then cry out "dear God, save me!" I'd only find the words to thank him for giving me what I've always wanted. You. I want you. Unfortunately for me, God has abandoned me- or at least he doesn't acknowledge me and that's more then I can say for you. Rather than be benevolent or silent, you torture me and you punish me for what I can have. I can have you- you know I can, otherwise you wouldn't abuse my affection so liberally, dragging me on, leaning in a little too close, whispering a little too soft, drawing my hand to yours and pressing it ever so slightly against your thigh- I could have you, if I wanted. And that's just the problem.
I don't want you. I don't, I don't, I don't. But I need you. You are a horrid person; I abhor myself for knowing that there is a capacity in me to fall so hard for someone that I'd call against my very nature. But you're also intoxicating. You've bewitched me; I'm drunk, I'm st
SELECTION:"
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| 127
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SELECTION:1[WP] The most hateful, spiteful, bitter confession of undying love.
DELAY0=129
RESPONSE0: How do you describe this? This feeling of utter torture that everyone longs to feel; like a stinging bite of a the cat 'o nines, being recounted as the soft caress of sweeter things. This feeling that drives the human spirit to move and connect.
This feeling that cause some to look on it with bitterness in their faces, spitting on the thought of it; and cause others to sigh in hopeful awe that it will grace their lives. This feeling whose absence is blamed when the World is cruel, and whose presence is praised when things are the way they *should* be.
DELAY1=0
RESPONSE1:
There is some inescapable part of me that yearns for you- and not just for your rough, cracked hands to lift my head by my intrusive chin and tell me that I'm handsome, or to run them down my arms and back up again, teasing me (encouraging me, even) to let go, and give in- but there's an element to me that flows through my body like sticky sweet blood that powers me, it moves me. And you know it.
You know that you drive me insane. I'm sorry that I can't give it all back to you. But you know that you have this ability to drive me wild and you manipulate it like you do me; every move is planned and has its purpose, like you're folding me into origami- a sitting duck, floating on a pool that's drenched in your aura, your fucking charm. You disgust me.
But, you rule me. I'm a slave to you. If you held my head down in that pool, I'd be blessed and rather then cry out "dear God, save me!" I'd only find the words to thank him for giving me what I've always wanted. You. I want you. Unfortunately for me, God has abandoned me- or at least he doesn't acknowledge me and that's more then I can say for you. Rather than be benevolent or silent, you torture me and you punish me for what I can have. I can have you- you know I can, otherwise you wouldn't abuse my affection so liberally, dragging me on, leaning in a little too close, whispering a little too soft, drawing my hand to yours and pressing it ever so slightly against your thigh- I could have you, if I wanted. And that's just the problem.
I don't want you. I don't, I don't, I don't. But I need you. You are a horrid person; I abhor myself for knowing that there is a capacity in me to fall so hard for someone that I'd call against my very nature. But you're also intoxicating. You've bewitched me; I'm drunk, I'm st
SELECTION:"
| 1
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| 2
| 1,059
| 598
| 126
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| 0
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SELECTION:1[WP] The most hateful, spiteful, bitter confession of undying love.
DELAY0=349
RESPONSE0: Took another aproach, calling someone who has feelings at the wrong time out on it. God, how can you be so stupid?! It took me leaving you, being completely happy with someone who has always known he loves me, and a whole summer apart for you to realize what you had? What you lost and let slip away for good? Yes, I know you love me now. All of our friends know too, even your sister. My love knows it, and I think he's scared that I could somehow reciprocate the feelings you have. That's fucking done. I thought once I was starting to even love you back then. Your cold bitter denial and insults drove me away and stomped out any chances of us ever being together. I need to buy you a pair of dark sunglasses as soon as possible. Thats what attracted me in the first place...your perfectly stunning blue eyes and the way the pupils dilate like crazy if I do anything feminine or bold. Those eyes still call to me sometimes, its why I cant bear to see you every single day. I dont even understand what you could see in me. Theres nothing here, just a big ass, straggly ginger hair, and a basicly flat chest. Its only because you dont talk to any other girls. Someday we will both just have to move past all of this, though I doubt it will end well.
DELAY1=0
RESPONSE1:
There is some inescapable part of me that yearns for you- and not just for your rough, cracked hands to lift my head by my intrusive chin and tell me that I'm handsome, or to run them down my arms and back up again, teasing me (encouraging me, even) to let go, and give in- but there's an element to me that flows through my body like sticky sweet blood that powers me, it moves me. And you know it.
You know that you drive me insane. I'm sorry that I can't give it all back to you. But you know that you have this ability to drive me wild and you manipulate it like you do me; every move is planned and has its purpose, like you're folding me into origami- a sitting duck, floating on a pool that's drenched in your aura, your fucking charm. You disgust me.
But, you rule me. I'm a slave to you. If you held my head down in that pool, I'd be blessed and rather then cry out "dear God, save me!" I'd only find the words to thank him for giving me what I've always wanted. You. I want you. Unfortunately for me, God has abandoned me- or at least he doesn't acknowledge me and that's more then I can say for you. Rather than be benevolent or silent, you torture me and you punish me for what I can have. I can have you- you know I can, otherwise you wouldn't abuse my affection so liberally, dragging me on, leaning in a little too close, whispering a little too soft, drawing my hand to yours and pressing it ever so slightly against your thigh- I could have you, if I wanted. And that's just the problem.
I don't want you. I don't, I don't, I don't. But I need you. You are a horrid person; I abhor myself for knowing that there is a capacity in me to fall so hard for someone that I'd call against my very nature. But you're also intoxicating. You've bewitched me; I'm drunk, I'm st
SELECTION:"
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| 438
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| 349
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"
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SELECTION:1[WP] The most hateful, spiteful, bitter confession of undying love.
DELAY0=0
RESPONSE0:
There is some inescapable part of me that yearns for you- and not just for your rough, cracked hands to lift my head by my intrusive chin and tell me that I'm handsome, or to run them down my arms and back up again, teasing me (encouraging me, even) to let go, and give in- but there's an element to me that flows through my body like sticky sweet blood that powers me, it moves me. And you know it.
You know that you drive me insane. I'm sorry that I can't give it all back to you. But you know that you have this ability to drive me wild and you manipulate it like you do me; every move is planned and has its purpose, like you're folding me into origami- a sitting duck, floating on a pool that's drenched in your aura, your fucking charm. You disgust me.
But, you rule me. I'm a slave to you. If you held my head down in that pool, I'd be blessed and rather then cry out "dear God, save me!" I'd only find the words to thank him for giving me what I've always wanted. You. I want you. Unfortunately for me, God has abandoned me- or at least he doesn't acknowledge me and that's more then I can say for you. Rather than be benevolent or silent, you torture me and you punish me for what I can have. I can have you- you know I can, otherwise you wouldn't abuse my affection so liberally, dragging me on, leaning in a little too close, whispering a little too soft, drawing my hand to yours and pressing it ever so slightly against your thigh- I could have you, if I wanted. And that's just the problem.
I don't want you. I don't, I don't, I don't. But I need you. You are a horrid person; I abhor myself for knowing that there is a capacity in me to fall so hard for someone that I'd call against my very nature. But you're also intoxicating. You've bewitched me; I'm drunk, I'm st
DELAY1=13
RESPONSE1: I kind of drew from personal feelings with this one:
I love you. I’ve loved you ever since you slapped me on our first night of living together. But no matter how much I love you, I hate you so much more. I’ve spent the last four months trying my best to get you to love me too, but instead you just fucking ignore me. I know you know how I truly feel, and yet you won’t even acknowledge it. Is your purpose to just string me along until something better comes along? Until you spend a year in Greece and leave me an emotionless void? You sicken me. And yet, I love you. I would do anything for you. I would throw myself into a fire for you. I would literally die for you, and sometimes it seems dying would be easier than continuing on like this. I dread the day that you bring a guy back to our apartment; knowing that this will probably happen kills me. Know that when you do, I will die on the inside, at least for the time being. The only thing I will have to give to him will be the utmost disdain for his entire existence. At least my feelings for him will match my feelings for you. And yet, I love you.
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SELECTION:1[WP] The most hateful, spiteful, bitter confession of undying love.
DELAY0=0
RESPONSE0:
There is some inescapable part of me that yearns for you- and not just for your rough, cracked hands to lift my head by my intrusive chin and tell me that I'm handsome, or to run them down my arms and back up again, teasing me (encouraging me, even) to let go, and give in- but there's an element to me that flows through my body like sticky sweet blood that powers me, it moves me. And you know it.
You know that you drive me insane. I'm sorry that I can't give it all back to you. But you know that you have this ability to drive me wild and you manipulate it like you do me; every move is planned and has its purpose, like you're folding me into origami- a sitting duck, floating on a pool that's drenched in your aura, your fucking charm. You disgust me.
But, you rule me. I'm a slave to you. If you held my head down in that pool, I'd be blessed and rather then cry out "dear God, save me!" I'd only find the words to thank him for giving me what I've always wanted. You. I want you. Unfortunately for me, God has abandoned me- or at least he doesn't acknowledge me and that's more then I can say for you. Rather than be benevolent or silent, you torture me and you punish me for what I can have. I can have you- you know I can, otherwise you wouldn't abuse my affection so liberally, dragging me on, leaning in a little too close, whispering a little too soft, drawing my hand to yours and pressing it ever so slightly against your thigh- I could have you, if I wanted. And that's just the problem.
I don't want you. I don't, I don't, I don't. But I need you. You are a horrid person; I abhor myself for knowing that there is a capacity in me to fall so hard for someone that I'd call against my very nature. But you're also intoxicating. You've bewitched me; I'm drunk, I'm st
DELAY1=19
RESPONSE1: I actually wrote 2 of these, I'd like to do them separate to see which one people like better.
"Now then, this, this'spectacle' is OUR fault. Your guilt in this outcome is every bit... the same as mine. Fix your face, such tears do not become of the woman I love. Sure, you think you loved that man. That BOY. I am quite sure that you THINK you did. Oh, you thought that you loved playing house together. You enjoyed waking up beside him, eating beside him, watching television and chatting about your day while you sat beside him. And I know for a fact that your loins ached ever so strongly to hold him inside them. That, my love, is why you know that this is OUR fault.
Do you remember that day? Oh, of course you do. The sea, the sun, the music, your lips, your touch, your heat. Your very presence changed me. Do you remember what you told me as we parted ways that cold April evening? As you slipped your hand from mine and let me slip myself to the very depths? 'I'll never let go,' IS WHAT YOU TOLD ME!
But, you let go. Oh, you let me go. You let me sink into the abyss. Cold, dark, frozen. The abyss called to me. It made me more. It gave me more. A chance to show you that my love for you won't suffer the consequences of your indiscretions. Now, like I swore inside your ear as you first felt my heat in the backseat. I'll love you forever. And not even my death, or whoever else you try to love instead, will stand in the way."
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SELECTION:1[WP] The most hateful, spiteful, bitter confession of undying love.
DELAY0=20
RESPONSE0: Here is the second part:
We never were. We are. But, we never were. There was never any me. Just like there was never really any you. We, are we. There was that time, back in the back of my Dad's red Ford truck where we laid the blanket down in the bed and watched the meteors fly overhead. That's when we started. We ceased to be two and we became one.
There are no memories here of the time before we became we. It could very well be that since over thirty years have passed that my memories just faded away. Though at the ripe young age of 43, there is a great deal of doubt that that is the real case. Now, here we are, wondering what happened to me. But, that's about as pointless as you expect it to be. What's the point in wondering about someone who doesn't exist?
For so very long, we have done what is best for “we”. And, love, we seemed to enjoy every single minute of that. Doing things that would suit “we”. A nice dress here, new furniture there, All the time with smiles on our faces. We fought, though you could hardly call those love spats fights. You seemed to win always and “we” would make you happy. And we are fine with that. Life is too short and we love you too much.
But, love, bear me one question. Was there ever a chance for anything other than we? We are all that we've known. We are are that we've seen. And we do so love the way we are. But, we sometimes wonder if there is more. But, we never say it. After all, after all this time, all this work, all this rhyme, all this reason, all while blind. The back of this cave is fine. You have “we” for as long as you can stay here in the back of this cave dear and remain “we”. As long as we are both in the dark. I will never have to step out into the light and have to
DELAY1=0
RESPONSE1:
There is some inescapable part of me that yearns for you- and not just for your rough, cracked hands to lift my head by my intrusive chin and tell me that I'm handsome, or to run them down my arms and back up again, teasing me (encouraging me, even) to let go, and give in- but there's an element to me that flows through my body like sticky sweet blood that powers me, it moves me. And you know it.
You know that you drive me insane. I'm sorry that I can't give it all back to you. But you know that you have this ability to drive me wild and you manipulate it like you do me; every move is planned and has its purpose, like you're folding me into origami- a sitting duck, floating on a pool that's drenched in your aura, your fucking charm. You disgust me.
But, you rule me. I'm a slave to you. If you held my head down in that pool, I'd be blessed and rather then cry out "dear God, save me!" I'd only find the words to thank him for giving me what I've always wanted. You. I want you. Unfortunately for me, God has abandoned me- or at least he doesn't acknowledge me and that's more then I can say for you. Rather than be benevolent or silent, you torture me and you punish me for what I can have. I can have you- you know I can, otherwise you wouldn't abuse my affection so liberally, dragging me on, leaning in a little too close, whispering a little too soft, drawing my hand to yours and pressing it ever so slightly against your thigh- I could have you, if I wanted. And that's just the problem.
I don't want you. I don't, I don't, I don't. But I need you. You are a horrid person; I abhor myself for knowing that there is a capacity in me to fall so hard for someone that I'd call against my very nature. But you're also intoxicating. You've bewitched me; I'm drunk, I'm st
SELECTION:"
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| 20
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SELECTION:1[WP] The most hateful, spiteful, bitter confession of undying love.
DELAY0=0
RESPONSE0:
There is some inescapable part of me that yearns for you- and not just for your rough, cracked hands to lift my head by my intrusive chin and tell me that I'm handsome, or to run them down my arms and back up again, teasing me (encouraging me, even) to let go, and give in- but there's an element to me that flows through my body like sticky sweet blood that powers me, it moves me. And you know it.
You know that you drive me insane. I'm sorry that I can't give it all back to you. But you know that you have this ability to drive me wild and you manipulate it like you do me; every move is planned and has its purpose, like you're folding me into origami- a sitting duck, floating on a pool that's drenched in your aura, your fucking charm. You disgust me.
But, you rule me. I'm a slave to you. If you held my head down in that pool, I'd be blessed and rather then cry out "dear God, save me!" I'd only find the words to thank him for giving me what I've always wanted. You. I want you. Unfortunately for me, God has abandoned me- or at least he doesn't acknowledge me and that's more then I can say for you. Rather than be benevolent or silent, you torture me and you punish me for what I can have. I can have you- you know I can, otherwise you wouldn't abuse my affection so liberally, dragging me on, leaning in a little too close, whispering a little too soft, drawing my hand to yours and pressing it ever so slightly against your thigh- I could have you, if I wanted. And that's just the problem.
I don't want you. I don't, I don't, I don't. But I need you. You are a horrid person; I abhor myself for knowing that there is a capacity in me to fall so hard for someone that I'd call against my very nature. But you're also intoxicating. You've bewitched me; I'm drunk, I'm st
DELAY1=123
RESPONSE1: So wait, wtf. I don't get it, are you a guy or a girl?
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SELECTION:0
SELECTION:1[WP] The most hateful, spiteful, bitter confession of undying love.
DELAY0=0
RESPONSE0:
There is some inescapable part of me that yearns for you- and not just for your rough, cracked hands to lift my head by my intrusive chin and tell me that I'm handsome, or to run them down my arms and back up again, teasing me (encouraging me, even) to let go, and give in- but there's an element to me that flows through my body like sticky sweet blood that powers me, it moves me. And you know it.
You know that you drive me insane. I'm sorry that I can't give it all back to you. But you know that you have this ability to drive me wild and you manipulate it like you do me; every move is planned and has its purpose, like you're folding me into origami- a sitting duck, floating on a pool that's drenched in your aura, your fucking charm. You disgust me.
But, you rule me. I'm a slave to you. If you held my head down in that pool, I'd be blessed and rather then cry out "dear God, save me!" I'd only find the words to thank him for giving me what I've always wanted. You. I want you. Unfortunately for me, God has abandoned me- or at least he doesn't acknowledge me and that's more then I can say for you. Rather than be benevolent or silent, you torture me and you punish me for what I can have. I can have you- you know I can, otherwise you wouldn't abuse my affection so liberally, dragging me on, leaning in a little too close, whispering a little too soft, drawing my hand to yours and pressing it ever so slightly against your thigh- I could have you, if I wanted. And that's just the problem.
I don't want you. I don't, I don't, I don't. But I need you. You are a horrid person; I abhor myself for knowing that there is a capacity in me to fall so hard for someone that I'd call against my very nature. But you're also intoxicating. You've bewitched me; I'm drunk, I'm st
DELAY1=124
RESPONSE1: Holy shit. Is this a coffee shop?
SELECTION:"
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SELECTION:1[WP] The most hateful, spiteful, bitter confession of undying love.
DELAY0=132
RESPONSE0: Hopeless. Thoughtless.
How can You not see me, when all I can see is You. Don’t look at me with those brown eyes, don’t cut me this way.
When Your words slice my skin and shred my defenses; I praise the smooth tones of Your voice.
I scream like I child while you twirl us across the worn wood floor.
How can I feel complete without Your hand around my throat. That beautiful heat the leather burns across skin.
But we twirl on, and I grow dizzier from rotation.
The velvet that flows from your lips wraps strangling tight around my heart. Connection? There is none.
Can the weight that’s tugged on my heart for the past year be only in my head?
How can You not fucking feel this too?
Faster. Faster. The worn wood creaks beneath our frantic toes.
The heat of summer fades from the corners of Your smile, and the memories of Your touch drift away.
I don’t even remember how it felt to have Your lips on mine.
All I had left was memory. A collection of scattered moments and images. But now even they have gone.
A firm grip to the thigh. Strong---demanding.
Stop doing this slowly; quit prying me apart.
Our spinning grew chaotic but passionately we clung to the seams of our love.
God, the heat of Your kiss.
The feeling of wholeness beside You.
What made her better? What do I not see?
She may be close to You, but she will never love You the way I do.
My love grows cold and sharp in the cold, empty nights.
How I wish I could fucking hate You.
DELAY1=0
RESPONSE1:
There is some inescapable part of me that yearns for you- and not just for your rough, cracked hands to lift my head by my intrusive chin and tell me that I'm handsome, or to run them down my arms and back up again, teasing me (encouraging me, even) to let go, and give in- but there's an element to me that flows through my body like sticky sweet blood that powers me, it moves me. And you know it.
You know that you drive me insane. I'm sorry that I can't give it all back to you. But you know that you have this ability to drive me wild and you manipulate it like you do me; every move is planned and has its purpose, like you're folding me into origami- a sitting duck, floating on a pool that's drenched in your aura, your fucking charm. You disgust me.
But, you rule me. I'm a slave to you. If you held my head down in that pool, I'd be blessed and rather then cry out "dear God, save me!" I'd only find the words to thank him for giving me what I've always wanted. You. I want you. Unfortunately for me, God has abandoned me- or at least he doesn't acknowledge me and that's more then I can say for you. Rather than be benevolent or silent, you torture me and you punish me for what I can have. I can have you- you know I can, otherwise you wouldn't abuse my affection so liberally, dragging me on, leaning in a little too close, whispering a little too soft, drawing my hand to yours and pressing it ever so slightly against your thigh- I could have you, if I wanted. And that's just the problem.
I don't want you. I don't, I don't, I don't. But I need you. You are a horrid person; I abhor myself for knowing that there is a capacity in me to fall so hard for someone that I'd call against my very nature. But you're also intoxicating. You've bewitched me; I'm drunk, I'm st
SELECTION:"
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SELECTION:1[WP] The most hateful, spiteful, bitter confession of undying love.
DELAY0=0
RESPONSE0:
There is some inescapable part of me that yearns for you- and not just for your rough, cracked hands to lift my head by my intrusive chin and tell me that I'm handsome, or to run them down my arms and back up again, teasing me (encouraging me, even) to let go, and give in- but there's an element to me that flows through my body like sticky sweet blood that powers me, it moves me. And you know it.
You know that you drive me insane. I'm sorry that I can't give it all back to you. But you know that you have this ability to drive me wild and you manipulate it like you do me; every move is planned and has its purpose, like you're folding me into origami- a sitting duck, floating on a pool that's drenched in your aura, your fucking charm. You disgust me.
But, you rule me. I'm a slave to you. If you held my head down in that pool, I'd be blessed and rather then cry out "dear God, save me!" I'd only find the words to thank him for giving me what I've always wanted. You. I want you. Unfortunately for me, God has abandoned me- or at least he doesn't acknowledge me and that's more then I can say for you. Rather than be benevolent or silent, you torture me and you punish me for what I can have. I can have you- you know I can, otherwise you wouldn't abuse my affection so liberally, dragging me on, leaning in a little too close, whispering a little too soft, drawing my hand to yours and pressing it ever so slightly against your thigh- I could have you, if I wanted. And that's just the problem.
I don't want you. I don't, I don't, I don't. But I need you. You are a horrid person; I abhor myself for knowing that there is a capacity in me to fall so hard for someone that I'd call against my very nature. But you're also intoxicating. You've bewitched me; I'm drunk, I'm st
DELAY1=153
RESPONSE1: You drive me mad.
We're of two different kinds, you and I. But we both spin the same magic; we both work the same tomes of time, and as young gods, we knew our paths would intertwine. But your grating voice, your erratic punning, your outrageous placidity in a world so wild and violent: I hate every bit of it, and yet I am thoroughly enchanted by it.
These years have passed like seconds to us, and my lover has long since left this plane. For her, my heart only burned the purest love, but now that the flames have died, there is only a ragged hole that my hatred of you fills.
But even now, as I watch you laugh and joke with our leader, I feel the same smile only reserved for *her* eyes creeping up on my lips as even I find humor in your inane puns; the sensation of my muscles pulling up the corners of my lips is alien to me as your range of expressions is. Your lack of a true face both dismays and fascinates me, and in the end, I can only wonder if this is what you feel in return.
The cogs continue to turn around us, Dalin; and turn forever, they will. I can stay silent until the day the gears rust and fall to dust. Even as you turn your bright red eyes to my own, an impossible smile dancing upon your skeletal mouth, I can only grimace instead.
I will always love you, you fucking idiot.
SELECTION:"
| 0
| 1,058
| 1,059
| 1
| 404
| 724
| 320
| 0
| 153
|
"
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SELECTION:1[WP] The most hateful, spiteful, bitter confession of undying love.
DELAY0=4120
RESPONSE0: "Marve, we're seniors now. Isn't this a little late? A little rushed? A little immature?"
"Exactly. We're not here for much longer. You're leaving, I'm leaving--to different places, maybe. Who knows? I loved you - I love you. Just be here with me, stay here for me. I promise we won't be trapped for much longer"
"You never even looked at me, though. God knows you've had years speak up. I don't even remember how long ago we met. I settled. I settled, for you or lack thereof."
"You never even fucking noticed? You were all I ever thought about. It's a damn shame, love. That's all. We could've been grand."
Three years later, she got a single letter in the mail. It was the eighty seven birthday cards she'd given him, and a certificate dated that month.
DELAY1=0
RESPONSE1:
There is some inescapable part of me that yearns for you- and not just for your rough, cracked hands to lift my head by my intrusive chin and tell me that I'm handsome, or to run them down my arms and back up again, teasing me (encouraging me, even) to let go, and give in- but there's an element to me that flows through my body like sticky sweet blood that powers me, it moves me. And you know it.
You know that you drive me insane. I'm sorry that I can't give it all back to you. But you know that you have this ability to drive me wild and you manipulate it like you do me; every move is planned and has its purpose, like you're folding me into origami- a sitting duck, floating on a pool that's drenched in your aura, your fucking charm. You disgust me.
But, you rule me. I'm a slave to you. If you held my head down in that pool, I'd be blessed and rather then cry out "dear God, save me!" I'd only find the words to thank him for giving me what I've always wanted. You. I want you. Unfortunately for me, God has abandoned me- or at least he doesn't acknowledge me and that's more then I can say for you. Rather than be benevolent or silent, you torture me and you punish me for what I can have. I can have you- you know I can, otherwise you wouldn't abuse my affection so liberally, dragging me on, leaning in a little too close, whispering a little too soft, drawing my hand to yours and pressing it ever so slightly against your thigh- I could have you, if I wanted. And that's just the problem.
I don't want you. I don't, I don't, I don't. But I need you. You are a horrid person; I abhor myself for knowing that there is a capacity in me to fall so hard for someone that I'd call against my very nature. But you're also intoxicating. You've bewitched me; I'm drunk, I'm st
SELECTION:"
| 1
| 1,058
| 1
| 1,059
| 527
| 197
| 724
| 4,120
| 0
|
"
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SELECTION:1[WP] a prompt for bad people
DELAY0=32
RESPONSE0: This was written for my friend who wanted me to do Ghetto-Shakespeare:
Shall I compare dat ass to a Summer’s day?
Thou art mo’ fine and mo’ bootylicious:
Rough winds do shake the lovely hips that sway,
And dem pants make yo’ thing look delicious:
Sometimes too flat the butts of ladies sit,
And oft is their bouncy rotundness dimm’d;
And every fly from fly sometime doth quit,
By choice of nature’s clearing made untrimm’d:
But thy eternal Summer shall not fade,
Nor lose possession of thine foxiness;
Nor shall Death brag thou bounceth in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou shaketh.
So long as booties shake, or dance floors be,
So long lives this, and this gives lust to me.
DELAY1=1
RESPONSE1: Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary
Over many a quaint an curious volume of forgotten lore
While I nodden nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
'Tis some visitor,' I muttered, 'tapping at my chamber door -
Only this, and nothing more.'
But still came that incessant knocking, no more could my ease keep blocking
Out this rapping loudly stalking, louder now than 'twas before
Failing to return the silence, hesitation turned compliance
Anything to stop the violence thrust upon my chamber door
"Who is there," I asked the darkness, safely from behind the door.
"Who should keep me from my snore?"
No reply, but knocking fading, still my listening, still my waiting
Curiosity abating, every second lessened more
"Who?" once more my question ringing, may I catch a response bringing
Just whose hand by now is stinging from the banging on my door
Still no answer, just the gusting from the raging winter storm
I returned to think some more
Again came that infernal clatter, "Dear sir what could be the matter?"
Would this person once more scatter as I walk the foyer floor
No more for a reply waiting, time to start investigating
Courage then in me inflating, time to find out what's in store
To the rapping now we add the creaking of the chamber door
Behind, the visage of Lenore
"It's you," I cried as tears were falling. "I hadn't known, did you try calling?"
Realizing I'd been stalling, I asked her inside where it's warm
Slowly she begins her entry, after what seems like a century
Still I'm standing like a sentry, shaken right down to my core
SELECTION:"
| 1
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| 1
|
"
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SELECTION:1[WP] a prompt for bad people
DELAY0=1
RESPONSE0: Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary
Over many a quaint an curious volume of forgotten lore
While I nodden nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
'Tis some visitor,' I muttered, 'tapping at my chamber door -
Only this, and nothing more.'
But still came that incessant knocking, no more could my ease keep blocking
Out this rapping loudly stalking, louder now than 'twas before
Failing to return the silence, hesitation turned compliance
Anything to stop the violence thrust upon my chamber door
"Who is there," I asked the darkness, safely from behind the door.
"Who should keep me from my snore?"
No reply, but knocking fading, still my listening, still my waiting
Curiosity abating, every second lessened more
"Who?" once more my question ringing, may I catch a response bringing
Just whose hand by now is stinging from the banging on my door
Still no answer, just the gusting from the raging winter storm
I returned to think some more
Again came that infernal clatter, "Dear sir what could be the matter?"
Would this person once more scatter as I walk the foyer floor
No more for a reply waiting, time to start investigating
Courage then in me inflating, time to find out what's in store
To the rapping now we add the creaking of the chamber door
Behind, the visage of Lenore
"It's you," I cried as tears were falling. "I hadn't known, did you try calling?"
Realizing I'd been stalling, I asked her inside where it's warm
Slowly she begins her entry, after what seems like a century
Still I'm standing like a sentry, shaken right down to my core
DELAY1=7
RESPONSE1: Maman died today. Or yesterday maybe, I don't know. I probably should though, considering I'm the one that killed her. Oh well.
SELECTION:"
| 0
| 2,694
| 2,741
| 47
| 655
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| 1
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|
"
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SELECTION:1[WP] a prompt for bad people
DELAY0=31
RESPONSE0: I found this on the web, no author attached;_
Up speaks Poe's cat.
The End of the Raven
by Poe's cat
On a night quite unenchanting,
when the rain was downward slanting,
I awakened to the ranting of the man I catch mice for.
Tipsy and a bit unshaven, in a tone I found quite craven,
Poe was talking to a Raven perched above the chamber door.
"Raven's very tasty," thought I,
as I tiptoed o'er the floor,
"There is nothing I like more."
Soft upon the rug I treaded, calm and careful as I headed
towards his roost atop that dreaded bust of Pallas I deplore.
While the bard and birdie chattered,
I made sure that nothing clattered,
creaked, or snapped, or fell, or shattered,
as I crossed the corridor;
For his house is crammed with trinkets,
curios and weird decor -
Bric-a-brac and junk galore.
Still the Raven never fluttered, standing stock-still as he uttered,
In a voice that shrieked and sputtered, his two cents worth -
"Nevermore."
While this dirge the birdbrain kept up,
oh, so silently I crept up,
Then I crouched and quickly leapt up,
pouncing on the feathered bore.
Soon he was a heap of plumage,
and a little blood and gore -
Only this and not much more.
Then my pickled poet cried out,
"Pussycat, it's time I dried out!"
Never sat I in my hideout talking to a bird before;
How I've wallowed in self-pity,
while my gallant, valiant kitty.
Put an end to that damned ditty - then I heard him start to snore.
Back atop the door I clambered, eyed that statue I
DELAY1=1
RESPONSE1: Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary
Over many a quaint an curious volume of forgotten lore
While I nodden nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
'Tis some visitor,' I muttered, 'tapping at my chamber door -
Only this, and nothing more.'
But still came that incessant knocking, no more could my ease keep blocking
Out this rapping loudly stalking, louder now than 'twas before
Failing to return the silence, hesitation turned compliance
Anything to stop the violence thrust upon my chamber door
"Who is there," I asked the darkness, safely from behind the door.
"Who should keep me from my snore?"
No reply, but knocking fading, still my listening, still my waiting
Curiosity abating, every second lessened more
"Who?" once more my question ringing, may I catch a response bringing
Just whose hand by now is stinging from the banging on my door
Still no answer, just the gusting from the raging winter storm
I returned to think some more
Again came that infernal clatter, "Dear sir what could be the matter?"
Would this person once more scatter as I walk the foyer floor
No more for a reply waiting, time to start investigating
Courage then in me inflating, time to find out what's in store
To the rapping now we add the creaking of the chamber door
Behind, the visage of Lenore
"It's you," I cried as tears were falling. "I hadn't known, did you try calling?"
Realizing I'd been stalling, I asked her inside where it's warm
Slowly she begins her entry, after what seems like a century
Still I'm standing like a sentry, shaken right down to my core
SELECTION:"
| 1
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| 2,741
| 221
| 465
| 686
| 31
| 1
|
"
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SELECTION:1[WP] a prompt for bad people
DELAY0=49
RESPONSE0: so much depends
upon
a red wheel
barrow
glazed with rain
water
beside the white
chickens
actually
that makes
no sense
note to self
erase this poem
DELAY1=1
RESPONSE1: Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary
Over many a quaint an curious volume of forgotten lore
While I nodden nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
'Tis some visitor,' I muttered, 'tapping at my chamber door -
Only this, and nothing more.'
But still came that incessant knocking, no more could my ease keep blocking
Out this rapping loudly stalking, louder now than 'twas before
Failing to return the silence, hesitation turned compliance
Anything to stop the violence thrust upon my chamber door
"Who is there," I asked the darkness, safely from behind the door.
"Who should keep me from my snore?"
No reply, but knocking fading, still my listening, still my waiting
Curiosity abating, every second lessened more
"Who?" once more my question ringing, may I catch a response bringing
Just whose hand by now is stinging from the banging on my door
Still no answer, just the gusting from the raging winter storm
I returned to think some more
Again came that infernal clatter, "Dear sir what could be the matter?"
Would this person once more scatter as I walk the foyer floor
No more for a reply waiting, time to start investigating
Courage then in me inflating, time to find out what's in store
To the rapping now we add the creaking of the chamber door
Behind, the visage of Lenore
"It's you," I cried as tears were falling. "I hadn't known, did you try calling?"
Realizing I'd been stalling, I asked her inside where it's warm
Slowly she begins her entry, after what seems like a century
Still I'm standing like a sentry, shaken right down to my core
SELECTION:"
| 1
| 2,718
| 23
| 2,741
| 628
| 58
| 686
| 49
| 1
|
"
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SELECTION:1[WP] a prompt for bad people
DELAY0=0
RESPONSE0: Geese
Sometimes I like to take long walks by myself. It helps calm me down. I don’t really go anywhere, but it helps to clear my mind. That all changed, however, when the geese attacked.
I was just walking along the riverside, minding my own business, when suddenly I felt something long and beak-like enter into my neck. I could only assume it was a beak because there was a bird attached to the end of it. Birds don’t just attach themselves to anything, although apparently my neck was something special.
Now, don’t get me wrong. One bird I can handle. I’ve killed more geese in my day with nothing but a tube of toothpaste and a roll of duct tape than anyone I know. But when they gang up on you, that’s when things all go south (and not for the winter). I swear to you. Any onlooker would have thought that I had a very stylish goose necklace, that’s how many geese had lodged themselves in my neck. There had to be at least sixteen geese trying to get prime real-estate inside my windpipe. It was getting hard to breath. I could start pulling them out, but killing the geese one-by-one would take forever that way.
I did what any sensible man would do.
I slammed my chest and face down to the pavement beneath my feet. Eight of the beaks slid farther in, emerging from the other side of my neck, but the other eight were lodged loose. Ten of the geese got crushed under my body. They remained only as a pulpy mess smeared over my sweater. I plucked three dead birds out of my throat. Only five remained, and boy, were they mad. I pulled two out, breaking their necks in the process, the thirds beak chipped off as I dislodged it, but the remaining two were giving me more trouble.
A foot knocked into my face. While I was busy dealing with the neck-fowl, one surviving bird had opted to instead use its webbed
DELAY1=1
RESPONSE1: Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary
Over many a quaint an curious volume of forgotten lore
While I nodden nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
'Tis some visitor,' I muttered, 'tapping at my chamber door -
Only this, and nothing more.'
But still came that incessant knocking, no more could my ease keep blocking
Out this rapping loudly stalking, louder now than 'twas before
Failing to return the silence, hesitation turned compliance
Anything to stop the violence thrust upon my chamber door
"Who is there," I asked the darkness, safely from behind the door.
"Who should keep me from my snore?"
No reply, but knocking fading, still my listening, still my waiting
Curiosity abating, every second lessened more
"Who?" once more my question ringing, may I catch a response bringing
Just whose hand by now is stinging from the banging on my door
Still no answer, just the gusting from the raging winter storm
I returned to think some more
Again came that infernal clatter, "Dear sir what could be the matter?"
Would this person once more scatter as I walk the foyer floor
No more for a reply waiting, time to start investigating
Courage then in me inflating, time to find out what's in store
To the rapping now we add the creaking of the chamber door
Behind, the visage of Lenore
"It's you," I cried as tears were falling. "I hadn't known, did you try calling?"
Realizing I'd been stalling, I asked her inside where it's warm
Slowly she begins her entry, after what seems like a century
Still I'm standing like a sentry, shaken right down to my core
SELECTION:"
| 1
| 2,721
| 20
| 2,741
| 81
| 767
| 686
| 0
| 1
|
"
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SELECTION:1[WP] a prompt for bad people
DELAY0=1
RESPONSE0: Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary
Over many a quaint an curious volume of forgotten lore
While I nodden nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
'Tis some visitor,' I muttered, 'tapping at my chamber door -
Only this, and nothing more.'
But still came that incessant knocking, no more could my ease keep blocking
Out this rapping loudly stalking, louder now than 'twas before
Failing to return the silence, hesitation turned compliance
Anything to stop the violence thrust upon my chamber door
"Who is there," I asked the darkness, safely from behind the door.
"Who should keep me from my snore?"
No reply, but knocking fading, still my listening, still my waiting
Curiosity abating, every second lessened more
"Who?" once more my question ringing, may I catch a response bringing
Just whose hand by now is stinging from the banging on my door
Still no answer, just the gusting from the raging winter storm
I returned to think some more
Again came that infernal clatter, "Dear sir what could be the matter?"
Would this person once more scatter as I walk the foyer floor
No more for a reply waiting, time to start investigating
Courage then in me inflating, time to find out what's in store
To the rapping now we add the creaking of the chamber door
Behind, the visage of Lenore
"It's you," I cried as tears were falling. "I hadn't known, did you try calling?"
Realizing I'd been stalling, I asked her inside where it's warm
Slowly she begins her entry, after what seems like a century
Still I'm standing like a sentry, shaken right down to my core
DELAY1=9
RESPONSE1: roses are red
violets are blue
i have a gun
get in the car
SELECTION:"
| 0
| 2,726
| 2,741
| 15
| 666
| 686
| 20
| 1
| 9
|
"
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SELECTION:1[WP] a prompt for bad people
DELAY0=36
RESPONSE0: Laugh and the world laughs with you;
Weep and you weep alone,
For the sad old earth must borrow its mirth but has troubles enough of its own.
Dream and the snakes will chase you;
Sleep and you'll fly all night,
But wake in your bed and prepare to be dead 'cause you sleepwalk and tried to take flight.
DELAY1=1
RESPONSE1: Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary
Over many a quaint an curious volume of forgotten lore
While I nodden nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
'Tis some visitor,' I muttered, 'tapping at my chamber door -
Only this, and nothing more.'
But still came that incessant knocking, no more could my ease keep blocking
Out this rapping loudly stalking, louder now than 'twas before
Failing to return the silence, hesitation turned compliance
Anything to stop the violence thrust upon my chamber door
"Who is there," I asked the darkness, safely from behind the door.
"Who should keep me from my snore?"
No reply, but knocking fading, still my listening, still my waiting
Curiosity abating, every second lessened more
"Who?" once more my question ringing, may I catch a response bringing
Just whose hand by now is stinging from the banging on my door
Still no answer, just the gusting from the raging winter storm
I returned to think some more
Again came that infernal clatter, "Dear sir what could be the matter?"
Would this person once more scatter as I walk the foyer floor
No more for a reply waiting, time to start investigating
Courage then in me inflating, time to find out what's in store
To the rapping now we add the creaking of the chamber door
Behind, the visage of Lenore
"It's you," I cried as tears were falling. "I hadn't known, did you try calling?"
Realizing I'd been stalling, I asked her inside where it's warm
Slowly she begins her entry, after what seems like a century
Still I'm standing like a sentry, shaken right down to my core
SELECTION:"
| 1
| 2,737
| 4
| 2,741
| 609
| 77
| 686
| 36
| 1
|
"
SELECTION:0
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SELECTION:1
SELECTION:0
SELECTION:1
SELECTION:0
SELECTION:1
SELECTION:0
SELECTION:1
SELECTION:0
SELECTION:1[WP] a prompt for bad people
DELAY0=1
RESPONSE0: Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary
Over many a quaint an curious volume of forgotten lore
While I nodden nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
'Tis some visitor,' I muttered, 'tapping at my chamber door -
Only this, and nothing more.'
But still came that incessant knocking, no more could my ease keep blocking
Out this rapping loudly stalking, louder now than 'twas before
Failing to return the silence, hesitation turned compliance
Anything to stop the violence thrust upon my chamber door
"Who is there," I asked the darkness, safely from behind the door.
"Who should keep me from my snore?"
No reply, but knocking fading, still my listening, still my waiting
Curiosity abating, every second lessened more
"Who?" once more my question ringing, may I catch a response bringing
Just whose hand by now is stinging from the banging on my door
Still no answer, just the gusting from the raging winter storm
I returned to think some more
Again came that infernal clatter, "Dear sir what could be the matter?"
Would this person once more scatter as I walk the foyer floor
No more for a reply waiting, time to start investigating
Courage then in me inflating, time to find out what's in store
To the rapping now we add the creaking of the chamber door
Behind, the visage of Lenore
"It's you," I cried as tears were falling. "I hadn't known, did you try calling?"
Realizing I'd been stalling, I asked her inside where it's warm
Slowly she begins her entry, after what seems like a century
Still I'm standing like a sentry, shaken right down to my core
DELAY1=36
RESPONSE1: "Scott, you just don't get it, do you?" That's what I said to him. I meant it, too. He didn't then, though I think that's changed over the intervening years. He gets it now. But back then, he most decidedly did not.
Death is really the province of the youth, I think. It's nothing when you're seventeen years old to make bold pronouncements about the people you'd like to kill. "I have a gun in my room," he said. "You give me five seconds, I'll get it, I'll come back down here—BOOM—I'll blow their brains out." He said this the way one might say, "Have you *seen* that new roller coaster at the carnival?" or, "I just scored front row seats to the Stones!" Death was just a thing: an idle threat, a punchline, an exciting new idea in a life hardly long enough to qualify for a death of its own.
There's a secret I've never told anyone, held in strictest supervillain confidence. There's a reason we leave the hero facing a doom brought about not by ourselves, but by our elaborate death traps.
By the way: did you know that I've never once killed a man? Oh, I've tried. I've plotted; I've planned; I've even had more death attributed to myself than I care to count. But I've never once actually done the deed. I can't, you see. I'd never sleep at night. Oh certainly, when I was a younger man and my reign of terror was in its infancy, barely more than a fantasy in the diseased mind of a blooming psychopath, I couldn't wait to kill. It wasn't just a part of the job; it *was* the job. What more to it is there? You get money, and you knock off the folks who get in your way. Sometimes you knock off folks to scare others into giving you the money. Sometimes you just threaten to knock off a wholesale pile of folks in exchange for the money you'll get not to pull the trigger—and then sometimes you pull it
SELECTION:"
| 0
| 2,738
| 2,741
| 3
| 322
| 686
| 1,008
| 1
| 36
|
"
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SELECTION:1[WP] a prompt for bad people
DELAY0=1
RESPONSE0: Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary
Over many a quaint an curious volume of forgotten lore
While I nodden nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
'Tis some visitor,' I muttered, 'tapping at my chamber door -
Only this, and nothing more.'
But still came that incessant knocking, no more could my ease keep blocking
Out this rapping loudly stalking, louder now than 'twas before
Failing to return the silence, hesitation turned compliance
Anything to stop the violence thrust upon my chamber door
"Who is there," I asked the darkness, safely from behind the door.
"Who should keep me from my snore?"
No reply, but knocking fading, still my listening, still my waiting
Curiosity abating, every second lessened more
"Who?" once more my question ringing, may I catch a response bringing
Just whose hand by now is stinging from the banging on my door
Still no answer, just the gusting from the raging winter storm
I returned to think some more
Again came that infernal clatter, "Dear sir what could be the matter?"
Would this person once more scatter as I walk the foyer floor
No more for a reply waiting, time to start investigating
Courage then in me inflating, time to find out what's in store
To the rapping now we add the creaking of the chamber door
Behind, the visage of Lenore
"It's you," I cried as tears were falling. "I hadn't known, did you try calling?"
Realizing I'd been stalling, I asked her inside where it's warm
Slowly she begins her entry, after what seems like a century
Still I'm standing like a sentry, shaken right down to my core
DELAY1=127
RESPONSE1: Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
and I contemplated the lesser way,
but unlike him, of this place, I understood.
In this forest, evil preys upon the good,
upon that path, one best not stray.
--------------------------------
Foolish adventures are best left to the youth,
and I wish to see again my family, with all good speed.
I have no time to play as the sleuth,
nor any desire to find forgotten truth.
I will find my way safely home, that is all I truly need.
--------------------------------
A man of learning, with a cold surname
once ventured down that way
In hopes to conquer, and to stake a claim,
This land, these evils, all of it, he would tame.
Ever since, for his soul we pray.
--------------------------------
Some attempt to travel along this forgotten creek,
Looking for his homestead, but only finding rubble.
Some cannot resist the urge to take one more peek,
To test their will, but they always prove too weak.
Take the high road my friend, stay safe, and seek no trouble.
SELECTION:"
| 0
| 2,738
| 2,741
| 3
| 425
| 686
| 261
| 1
| 127
|
"
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SELECTION:1[WP] a prompt for bad people
DELAY0=41
RESPONSE0: I now realize how heavily Gorillaz "Rhinestone Eyes" borrowed from Poe.
DELAY1=1
RESPONSE1: Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary
Over many a quaint an curious volume of forgotten lore
While I nodden nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
'Tis some visitor,' I muttered, 'tapping at my chamber door -
Only this, and nothing more.'
But still came that incessant knocking, no more could my ease keep blocking
Out this rapping loudly stalking, louder now than 'twas before
Failing to return the silence, hesitation turned compliance
Anything to stop the violence thrust upon my chamber door
"Who is there," I asked the darkness, safely from behind the door.
"Who should keep me from my snore?"
No reply, but knocking fading, still my listening, still my waiting
Curiosity abating, every second lessened more
"Who?" once more my question ringing, may I catch a response bringing
Just whose hand by now is stinging from the banging on my door
Still no answer, just the gusting from the raging winter storm
I returned to think some more
Again came that infernal clatter, "Dear sir what could be the matter?"
Would this person once more scatter as I walk the foyer floor
No more for a reply waiting, time to start investigating
Courage then in me inflating, time to find out what's in store
To the rapping now we add the creaking of the chamber door
Behind, the visage of Lenore
"It's you," I cried as tears were falling. "I hadn't known, did you try calling?"
Realizing I'd been stalling, I asked her inside where it's warm
Slowly she begins her entry, after what seems like a century
Still I'm standing like a sentry, shaken right down to my core
SELECTION:"
| 1
| 2,739
| 2
| 2,741
| 668
| 18
| 686
| 41
| 1
|
"
SELECTION:0
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SELECTION:1
SELECTION:0
SELECTION:1[WP] The Joker is set loose on the world of 1984. What happens? (x-post r/AskReddit)
DELAY0=9
RESPONSE0: They say in this day and age it is impossible to stay hidden. He did it though. When everybody knows that everyone is watched every single moment of their pitiful lives, it makes those in charge even more afraid of the man who isn’t. The Bat. He seeks to help the people of this world, by hiding in the darkness to show it can be done. To give the world a symbol, a beacon of hope. But while he prefers the darkness, people like me…..well, we prefer the SPOTLIGHT!!!! Because for every man there is a woman. For every cat there is a dog. For every prisoner, a jailer. And for every Knight………..A Joker.
You see, I was special. My father was a very important man in the government so I was allowed certain freedoms that others were not. Namely I was allowed to find love. Others were not, It was treated as a disease, a sickness. But not me. I found her when we were only children, Harleen, She was from Eurasia, and I would have my father order her over in the name of international cooperation. She was always so nice to me. She used to say that if we were such good friends and I was always so happy to see her why I didn’t smile more. People here do not smile. It is considered abnormal, pervasive. When we were sixteen we had our first night together, it was everything I thought it would be until…….
The next morning I awoke to the sounds of my door being busted down. Four men burst in and grabbed Harleen. They said that I was fraternizing with the enemy. How could she be the enemy she was from Eurasia, they had been our closest allies for years. They claimed otherwise, they claimed EastAsia was our allies and that my father and I were aiding the enemy. We were all taking to a place no man dare mention. We were tortured, brainwashed tortured again, and by the time we were let out not one of us survived. Our bodies may have been alive but what made us who we were was no longer there.
Years passed by, allies
DELAY1=9
RESPONSE1: *Journal Entry for Inmate #56941.*
*Name: Unknown.*
*Crime: Possession of Prohibited Chemicals*
Well, it seems that I've gotten myself into a bit of quandary if I do say so myself. This time, this time it wasn't because of batsy. No, no, this time it was good ol' Big Brother. Apparently, having enough gas to kill a classroom full of toddlers is grounds for my arrest.
According to the nice friendly police officers who found it necessary to break my legs on arrival, I'm supposed to write down what lead up to the event so they can better "prosecute" or whatever they do in their spare time. But since no one seems to even know my name, not even I do, I'm supposed to write down really, how I got here. Perhaps I should start at the beginning.
I was born into a nice cottage at the border of disputed territory in Brazzaville to a nice family of friendly white picket fence parents. They loved me, yes they did. Gave me everything I could desire. Food, money, women. To be honest, I can't remember where it all went wrong. Maybe it was between me murdering my father or my sister stabbing me in the stomach, but the many laughs through it all make it quite a blur.
And so I found myself in Oceania. It's not hard to end up there. Gotham City was a bit flashy for my tastes as a man of classical upbringing, but I made do. Eventually, robbing people at gunpoint got a bit old. So I spread out my horizons. From robbery came murder, from murder came eye gouging, from eye gouging to burning, and so on. It was like a circus funhouse but never having to pay.
Oceania is by far the greatest country to ever walk the Earth. Everything is just so...hilarious. Beatings for crimethink, unending building fires, rape in the street corners, children blinded by their parents. Through all this, I can't help but wonder.
Why isn
SELECTION:"
| 0
| 1,827
| 1,881
| 54
| 462
| 917
| 455
| 9
| 9
|
"
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SELECTION:1[WP] The Joker is set loose on the world of 1984. What happens? (x-post r/AskReddit)
DELAY0=4
RESPONSE0: V for Vendetta.
EDIT: Didn't realize this was writingprompts, apology for curt response.
DELAY1=9
RESPONSE1: They say in this day and age it is impossible to stay hidden. He did it though. When everybody knows that everyone is watched every single moment of their pitiful lives, it makes those in charge even more afraid of the man who isn’t. The Bat. He seeks to help the people of this world, by hiding in the darkness to show it can be done. To give the world a symbol, a beacon of hope. But while he prefers the darkness, people like me…..well, we prefer the SPOTLIGHT!!!! Because for every man there is a woman. For every cat there is a dog. For every prisoner, a jailer. And for every Knight………..A Joker.
You see, I was special. My father was a very important man in the government so I was allowed certain freedoms that others were not. Namely I was allowed to find love. Others were not, It was treated as a disease, a sickness. But not me. I found her when we were only children, Harleen, She was from Eurasia, and I would have my father order her over in the name of international cooperation. She was always so nice to me. She used to say that if we were such good friends and I was always so happy to see her why I didn’t smile more. People here do not smile. It is considered abnormal, pervasive. When we were sixteen we had our first night together, it was everything I thought it would be until…….
The next morning I awoke to the sounds of my door being busted down. Four men burst in and grabbed Harleen. They said that I was fraternizing with the enemy. How could she be the enemy she was from Eurasia, they had been our closest allies for years. They claimed otherwise, they claimed EastAsia was our allies and that my father and I were aiding the enemy. We were all taking to a place no man dare mention. We were tortured, brainwashed tortured again, and by the time we were let out not one of us survived. Our bodies may have been alive but what made us who we were was no longer there.
Years passed by, allies
SELECTION:"
| 1
| 1,850
| 31
| 1,881
| 892
| 25
| 917
| 4
| 9
|
"
SELECTION:0
SELECTION:1
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SELECTION:0
SELECTION:1[WP] The Joker is set loose on the world of 1984. What happens? (x-post r/AskReddit)
DELAY0=9
RESPONSE0: They say in this day and age it is impossible to stay hidden. He did it though. When everybody knows that everyone is watched every single moment of their pitiful lives, it makes those in charge even more afraid of the man who isn’t. The Bat. He seeks to help the people of this world, by hiding in the darkness to show it can be done. To give the world a symbol, a beacon of hope. But while he prefers the darkness, people like me…..well, we prefer the SPOTLIGHT!!!! Because for every man there is a woman. For every cat there is a dog. For every prisoner, a jailer. And for every Knight………..A Joker.
You see, I was special. My father was a very important man in the government so I was allowed certain freedoms that others were not. Namely I was allowed to find love. Others were not, It was treated as a disease, a sickness. But not me. I found her when we were only children, Harleen, She was from Eurasia, and I would have my father order her over in the name of international cooperation. She was always so nice to me. She used to say that if we were such good friends and I was always so happy to see her why I didn’t smile more. People here do not smile. It is considered abnormal, pervasive. When we were sixteen we had our first night together, it was everything I thought it would be until…….
The next morning I awoke to the sounds of my door being busted down. Four men burst in and grabbed Harleen. They said that I was fraternizing with the enemy. How could she be the enemy she was from Eurasia, they had been our closest allies for years. They claimed otherwise, they claimed EastAsia was our allies and that my father and I were aiding the enemy. We were all taking to a place no man dare mention. We were tortured, brainwashed tortured again, and by the time we were let out not one of us survived. Our bodies may have been alive but what made us who we were was no longer there.
Years passed by, allies
DELAY1=34
RESPONSE1: Another surge of electricity ran through his victim. O'Brien carefully flicked the switch off once the convulsions had satisfied him. He had been interrogating this same man in room 101 for several hours now, and was quite surprised to discover that such a shabby looking creature could endure countless bouts of electrical torture like this. O'Brien wiped the sweat off his brow. This grew tiring.
He carefully adjusted the electrodes that had slipped slightly in the last bout of shocks, and quietly sat in the now warm stool next to the strapped down man who was still shaking from the last shock. O'Brien held up two fingers on each hand. "Now I am going to ask you again, two plus two equals?"
The man looked over at O'Brien wearily. "This again? Now we have been over how bad at math I am, can't we just cut to the chase and ask about...umm, who was that again?" O'Brien grinned, perhaps sensing that he was finally getting somewhere. "The Joker. Are you ready to talk about him now?" The man shot O'Brien a look. "Well "ready" is such a strong word, do you know what this guy is capable of? Maybe the electricity is better."
"Well, maybe I can help you decide." O'Brien flicked the switch and an electrical surge once again poured into the man for a few more moments. Annoyed, O'Brien tapped at the switch in disgust and pulled closer. "Now I want you to understand something, we have monitors and cameras on every square inch of this city. There is nobody, no one that we cannot find."
The man coughed a few times before replying, "Well then, why are you questioning me? Perhaps you have already found this Joker?" O'Brien sent another shock through the man. "Don't get cute, the Joker has been hijacking our telescreens and has been spreading lies to our people! He is telling everyone that our wars with Eurasia are false!"
The man looked over with one eye shut, "You mean spreading the truth? That is not the same as
SELECTION:"
| 0
| 1,854
| 1,881
| 27
| 50
| 917
| 967
| 9
| 34
|
"
SELECTION:0
SELECTION:1
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SELECTION:1
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SELECTION:1
SELECTION:0
SELECTION:1
SELECTION:0
SELECTION:1
SELECTION:0
SELECTION:1
SELECTION:0
SELECTION:1[WP] The Joker is set loose on the world of 1984. What happens? (x-post r/AskReddit)
DELAY0=2
RESPONSE0: If you want a picture of the future, imagine a boot stomping on a clown's face--forever.
DELAY1=9
RESPONSE1: They say in this day and age it is impossible to stay hidden. He did it though. When everybody knows that everyone is watched every single moment of their pitiful lives, it makes those in charge even more afraid of the man who isn’t. The Bat. He seeks to help the people of this world, by hiding in the darkness to show it can be done. To give the world a symbol, a beacon of hope. But while he prefers the darkness, people like me…..well, we prefer the SPOTLIGHT!!!! Because for every man there is a woman. For every cat there is a dog. For every prisoner, a jailer. And for every Knight………..A Joker.
You see, I was special. My father was a very important man in the government so I was allowed certain freedoms that others were not. Namely I was allowed to find love. Others were not, It was treated as a disease, a sickness. But not me. I found her when we were only children, Harleen, She was from Eurasia, and I would have my father order her over in the name of international cooperation. She was always so nice to me. She used to say that if we were such good friends and I was always so happy to see her why I didn’t smile more. People here do not smile. It is considered abnormal, pervasive. When we were sixteen we had our first night together, it was everything I thought it would be until…….
The next morning I awoke to the sounds of my door being busted down. Four men burst in and grabbed Harleen. They said that I was fraternizing with the enemy. How could she be the enemy she was from Eurasia, they had been our closest allies for years. They claimed otherwise, they claimed EastAsia was our allies and that my father and I were aiding the enemy. We were all taking to a place no man dare mention. We were tortured, brainwashed tortured again, and by the time we were let out not one of us survived. Our bodies may have been alive but what made us who we were was no longer there.
Years passed by, allies
SELECTION:"
| 1
| 1,856
| 25
| 1,881
| 894
| 23
| 917
| 2
| 9
|
"
SELECTION:0
SELECTION:1
SELECTION:0
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SELECTION:0
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SELECTION:0
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SELECTION:0
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SELECTION:0
SELECTION:1
SELECTION:0
SELECTION:1
SELECTION:0
SELECTION:1[WP] The Joker is set loose on the world of 1984. What happens? (x-post r/AskReddit)
DELAY0=1
RESPONSE0: Does 1984 mean Orwell's *Nineteen Eighty Four*, or 29 years ago?
DELAY1=9
RESPONSE1: They say in this day and age it is impossible to stay hidden. He did it though. When everybody knows that everyone is watched every single moment of their pitiful lives, it makes those in charge even more afraid of the man who isn’t. The Bat. He seeks to help the people of this world, by hiding in the darkness to show it can be done. To give the world a symbol, a beacon of hope. But while he prefers the darkness, people like me…..well, we prefer the SPOTLIGHT!!!! Because for every man there is a woman. For every cat there is a dog. For every prisoner, a jailer. And for every Knight………..A Joker.
You see, I was special. My father was a very important man in the government so I was allowed certain freedoms that others were not. Namely I was allowed to find love. Others were not, It was treated as a disease, a sickness. But not me. I found her when we were only children, Harleen, She was from Eurasia, and I would have my father order her over in the name of international cooperation. She was always so nice to me. She used to say that if we were such good friends and I was always so happy to see her why I didn’t smile more. People here do not smile. It is considered abnormal, pervasive. When we were sixteen we had our first night together, it was everything I thought it would be until…….
The next morning I awoke to the sounds of my door being busted down. Four men burst in and grabbed Harleen. They said that I was fraternizing with the enemy. How could she be the enemy she was from Eurasia, they had been our closest allies for years. They claimed otherwise, they claimed EastAsia was our allies and that my father and I were aiding the enemy. We were all taking to a place no man dare mention. We were tortured, brainwashed tortured again, and by the time we were let out not one of us survived. Our bodies may have been alive but what made us who we were was no longer there.
Years passed by, allies
SELECTION:"
| 1
| 1,870
| 11
| 1,881
| 900
| 17
| 917
| 1
| 9
|
"
SELECTION:0
SELECTION:1
SELECTION:0
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SELECTION:1
SELECTION:0
SELECTION:1[WP] The Joker is set loose on the world of 1984. What happens? (x-post r/AskReddit)
DELAY0=37
RESPONSE0: [I was going to tie this into several other surreal classics but it got late, apologies. And thanks for reading!]
.................................................................
The doctor meanders slowly toward the corridor, savoring each step before the terminus; that strip of chrome gilding the tempered seal between Inside and Outside. Her high rank within the Inner Party afford such boundaries elasticity, but as every good member knows; the organ must exercise it's skill to remain of use. To be an official within the walls of Miniluv meant to propagate the necessities of care and compassion. The process of Room 101 was to expedite the labyrinthine journey from erroneous thought to cohesion. In this, the compassion of Party leaders fell to the doctor in preventing a member of their flock from becoming an unperson.
Today, though, the ward was quiet. It wasn't unusual to hear the primeval din of repentance from several floors down, despite the insulation. Curious too, since it was just before noon; a rest and replenishment period usually happened before ten: making the screams and pleas of the re-education candidates all the more sorrowful.
Dr. Quinn stands in front of the telescreen, letting it scan her for the genetic signatures that serve as access card to this ward and so much of the Party's inner working. The door slides open and the first thing to hit her is a wave of decay; a fetid odor so repugnant it repels her and incites her stomach's bilious retort. Between heaves, she hears the crisp, spidery lilt of her most troublesome charge.
"Toiling,—rejoicing,—sorrowing,
Onward through life he goes;
Each morning sees some task begin,
Each evening sees it close;
Something attempted, something done,
Has earned a night's repose."
Patient 05423 smiles up at her, eyes burning under her flesh, into her marrow. The scars of his face stretch and weep, carving trails in the filth. The good doctor, though hardened by many years
DELAY1=9
RESPONSE1: They say in this day and age it is impossible to stay hidden. He did it though. When everybody knows that everyone is watched every single moment of their pitiful lives, it makes those in charge even more afraid of the man who isn’t. The Bat. He seeks to help the people of this world, by hiding in the darkness to show it can be done. To give the world a symbol, a beacon of hope. But while he prefers the darkness, people like me…..well, we prefer the SPOTLIGHT!!!! Because for every man there is a woman. For every cat there is a dog. For every prisoner, a jailer. And for every Knight………..A Joker.
You see, I was special. My father was a very important man in the government so I was allowed certain freedoms that others were not. Namely I was allowed to find love. Others were not, It was treated as a disease, a sickness. But not me. I found her when we were only children, Harleen, She was from Eurasia, and I would have my father order her over in the name of international cooperation. She was always so nice to me. She used to say that if we were such good friends and I was always so happy to see her why I didn’t smile more. People here do not smile. It is considered abnormal, pervasive. When we were sixteen we had our first night together, it was everything I thought it would be until…….
The next morning I awoke to the sounds of my door being busted down. Four men burst in and grabbed Harleen. They said that I was fraternizing with the enemy. How could she be the enemy she was from Eurasia, they had been our closest allies for years. They claimed otherwise, they claimed EastAsia was our allies and that my father and I were aiding the enemy. We were all taking to a place no man dare mention. We were tortured, brainwashed tortured again, and by the time we were let out not one of us survived. Our bodies may have been alive but what made us who we were was no longer there.
Years passed by, allies
SELECTION:"
| 1
| 1,876
| 5
| 1,881
| 124
| 1,041
| 917
| 37
| 9
|
"
SELECTION:0
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SELECTION:1
SELECTION:0
SELECTION:1[WP] The Joker is set loose on the world of 1984. What happens? (x-post r/AskReddit)
DELAY0=9
RESPONSE0: They say in this day and age it is impossible to stay hidden. He did it though. When everybody knows that everyone is watched every single moment of their pitiful lives, it makes those in charge even more afraid of the man who isn’t. The Bat. He seeks to help the people of this world, by hiding in the darkness to show it can be done. To give the world a symbol, a beacon of hope. But while he prefers the darkness, people like me…..well, we prefer the SPOTLIGHT!!!! Because for every man there is a woman. For every cat there is a dog. For every prisoner, a jailer. And for every Knight………..A Joker.
You see, I was special. My father was a very important man in the government so I was allowed certain freedoms that others were not. Namely I was allowed to find love. Others were not, It was treated as a disease, a sickness. But not me. I found her when we were only children, Harleen, She was from Eurasia, and I would have my father order her over in the name of international cooperation. She was always so nice to me. She used to say that if we were such good friends and I was always so happy to see her why I didn’t smile more. People here do not smile. It is considered abnormal, pervasive. When we were sixteen we had our first night together, it was everything I thought it would be until…….
The next morning I awoke to the sounds of my door being busted down. Four men burst in and grabbed Harleen. They said that I was fraternizing with the enemy. How could she be the enemy she was from Eurasia, they had been our closest allies for years. They claimed otherwise, they claimed EastAsia was our allies and that my father and I were aiding the enemy. We were all taking to a place no man dare mention. We were tortured, brainwashed tortured again, and by the time we were let out not one of us survived. Our bodies may have been alive but what made us who we were was no longer there.
Years passed by, allies
DELAY1=6
RESPONSE1: This one has a lot of potential, good idea OP. I know a ton about 1984 yet almost nothing about the Joker (am not into Comic books.) This prompt did get a lot of ideas flowing though....
SELECTION:"
| 0
| 1,876
| 1,881
| 5
| 875
| 917
| 42
| 9
| 6
|
"
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SELECTION:1
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SELECTION:1
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SELECTION:1
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SELECTION:1
SELECTION:0
SELECTION:1
SELECTION:0
SELECTION:1[WP] The Joker is set loose on the world of 1984. What happens? (x-post r/AskReddit)
DELAY0=9
RESPONSE0: They say in this day and age it is impossible to stay hidden. He did it though. When everybody knows that everyone is watched every single moment of their pitiful lives, it makes those in charge even more afraid of the man who isn’t. The Bat. He seeks to help the people of this world, by hiding in the darkness to show it can be done. To give the world a symbol, a beacon of hope. But while he prefers the darkness, people like me…..well, we prefer the SPOTLIGHT!!!! Because for every man there is a woman. For every cat there is a dog. For every prisoner, a jailer. And for every Knight………..A Joker.
You see, I was special. My father was a very important man in the government so I was allowed certain freedoms that others were not. Namely I was allowed to find love. Others were not, It was treated as a disease, a sickness. But not me. I found her when we were only children, Harleen, She was from Eurasia, and I would have my father order her over in the name of international cooperation. She was always so nice to me. She used to say that if we were such good friends and I was always so happy to see her why I didn’t smile more. People here do not smile. It is considered abnormal, pervasive. When we were sixteen we had our first night together, it was everything I thought it would be until…….
The next morning I awoke to the sounds of my door being busted down. Four men burst in and grabbed Harleen. They said that I was fraternizing with the enemy. How could she be the enemy she was from Eurasia, they had been our closest allies for years. They claimed otherwise, they claimed EastAsia was our allies and that my father and I were aiding the enemy. We were all taking to a place no man dare mention. We were tortured, brainwashed tortured again, and by the time we were let out not one of us survived. Our bodies may have been alive but what made us who we were was no longer there.
Years passed by, allies
DELAY1=62
RESPONSE1: The ending: He loved Big Brother.
No one can escape the Ministry of Love.
SELECTION:"
| 0
| 1,878
| 1,881
| 3
| 897
| 917
| 20
| 9
| 62
|
"
SELECTION:0
SELECTION:1
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SELECTION:1
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SELECTION:1
SELECTION:0
SELECTION:1
SELECTION:0
SELECTION:1[WP] The Joker is set loose on the world of 1984. What happens? (x-post r/AskReddit)
DELAY0=9
RESPONSE0: They say in this day and age it is impossible to stay hidden. He did it though. When everybody knows that everyone is watched every single moment of their pitiful lives, it makes those in charge even more afraid of the man who isn’t. The Bat. He seeks to help the people of this world, by hiding in the darkness to show it can be done. To give the world a symbol, a beacon of hope. But while he prefers the darkness, people like me…..well, we prefer the SPOTLIGHT!!!! Because for every man there is a woman. For every cat there is a dog. For every prisoner, a jailer. And for every Knight………..A Joker.
You see, I was special. My father was a very important man in the government so I was allowed certain freedoms that others were not. Namely I was allowed to find love. Others were not, It was treated as a disease, a sickness. But not me. I found her when we were only children, Harleen, She was from Eurasia, and I would have my father order her over in the name of international cooperation. She was always so nice to me. She used to say that if we were such good friends and I was always so happy to see her why I didn’t smile more. People here do not smile. It is considered abnormal, pervasive. When we were sixteen we had our first night together, it was everything I thought it would be until…….
The next morning I awoke to the sounds of my door being busted down. Four men burst in and grabbed Harleen. They said that I was fraternizing with the enemy. How could she be the enemy she was from Eurasia, they had been our closest allies for years. They claimed otherwise, they claimed EastAsia was our allies and that my father and I were aiding the enemy. We were all taking to a place no man dare mention. We were tortured, brainwashed tortured again, and by the time we were let out not one of us survived. Our bodies may have been alive but what made us who we were was no longer there.
Years passed by, allies
DELAY1=41
RESPONSE1: "Continue" the deep voiced official said as a slender uniformed man proceeded to perform a form of torture with electricity, I was merely a privite in the thought police at the time and it was apart of my training to witness procedures such as this. Thumping and groaning could be heard by the individual in the windowed room I was watching from, I pressume it was a 2 way mirror but details such as this arn't important, The torture stopped for a moment, the deep voiced official That I could remember the name or rank of stepped and approached the secured individual."What have you learned from this experience sir?" The official asked with a kind of raspy voice I presume from the torture, said "I have learned thaat... you suck at torture..." the official scowled at the tortured man and left the torture area and so did all the other and gathered in the observation room, the room was silent for a moment before an older gentalman in a stainless white lab coat spoke up "he knows what we are trying to do, he know we are trying to breaking. His psychological intelligence is too strong for physical torture to be effective, my suggestion would be Chinese water torture, it woul...." The man in the lab coat was interrupted by the detainee secured to the table yelled "are you going to hurry up? I dont have all day you know." The deep voiced man busted through the door to torture area obviously angered by the prisoners comment "you like jokes?" The official asked " are you a joker?, we have a joker on our hand!!" "What can I say? Im a funny man" the "joker" said with a devious grin. The grin and presistance of the prisoner further annoyed the official. The official angerly turned on the electric torture device grabbed the sponges and looked at the detainee and said "lets see if you're still smiling after this" and proceeded to torture the prisoner. The thumping and groaning picked up again I short after left the area to help out at the ministry of truth to help keep order. I had never see or heard the prisoner again.
Not an expert at this got bored and tryed taking a
SELECTION:"
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SELECTION:1[WP] The Joker is set loose on the world of 1984. What happens? (x-post r/AskReddit)
DELAY0=9
RESPONSE0: They say in this day and age it is impossible to stay hidden. He did it though. When everybody knows that everyone is watched every single moment of their pitiful lives, it makes those in charge even more afraid of the man who isn’t. The Bat. He seeks to help the people of this world, by hiding in the darkness to show it can be done. To give the world a symbol, a beacon of hope. But while he prefers the darkness, people like me…..well, we prefer the SPOTLIGHT!!!! Because for every man there is a woman. For every cat there is a dog. For every prisoner, a jailer. And for every Knight………..A Joker.
You see, I was special. My father was a very important man in the government so I was allowed certain freedoms that others were not. Namely I was allowed to find love. Others were not, It was treated as a disease, a sickness. But not me. I found her when we were only children, Harleen, She was from Eurasia, and I would have my father order her over in the name of international cooperation. She was always so nice to me. She used to say that if we were such good friends and I was always so happy to see her why I didn’t smile more. People here do not smile. It is considered abnormal, pervasive. When we were sixteen we had our first night together, it was everything I thought it would be until…….
The next morning I awoke to the sounds of my door being busted down. Four men burst in and grabbed Harleen. They said that I was fraternizing with the enemy. How could she be the enemy she was from Eurasia, they had been our closest allies for years. They claimed otherwise, they claimed EastAsia was our allies and that my father and I were aiding the enemy. We were all taking to a place no man dare mention. We were tortured, brainwashed tortured again, and by the time we were let out not one of us survived. Our bodies may have been alive but what made us who we were was no longer there.
Years passed by, allies
DELAY1=40
RESPONSE1: So great
SELECTION:"
| 0
| 1,880
| 1,881
| 1
| 915
| 917
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| 40
|
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SELECTION:0
SELECTION:1[WP] The Joker is set loose on the world of 1984. What happens? (x-post r/AskReddit)
DELAY0=9
RESPONSE0: They say in this day and age it is impossible to stay hidden. He did it though. When everybody knows that everyone is watched every single moment of their pitiful lives, it makes those in charge even more afraid of the man who isn’t. The Bat. He seeks to help the people of this world, by hiding in the darkness to show it can be done. To give the world a symbol, a beacon of hope. But while he prefers the darkness, people like me…..well, we prefer the SPOTLIGHT!!!! Because for every man there is a woman. For every cat there is a dog. For every prisoner, a jailer. And for every Knight………..A Joker.
You see, I was special. My father was a very important man in the government so I was allowed certain freedoms that others were not. Namely I was allowed to find love. Others were not, It was treated as a disease, a sickness. But not me. I found her when we were only children, Harleen, She was from Eurasia, and I would have my father order her over in the name of international cooperation. She was always so nice to me. She used to say that if we were such good friends and I was always so happy to see her why I didn’t smile more. People here do not smile. It is considered abnormal, pervasive. When we were sixteen we had our first night together, it was everything I thought it would be until…….
The next morning I awoke to the sounds of my door being busted down. Four men burst in and grabbed Harleen. They said that I was fraternizing with the enemy. How could she be the enemy she was from Eurasia, they had been our closest allies for years. They claimed otherwise, they claimed EastAsia was our allies and that my father and I were aiding the enemy. We were all taking to a place no man dare mention. We were tortured, brainwashed tortured again, and by the time we were let out not one of us survived. Our bodies may have been alive but what made us who we were was no longer there.
Years passed by, allies
DELAY1=43
RESPONSE1: Demolition Man, but with better makeup.
SELECTION:"
| 0
| 1,880
| 1,881
| 1
| 908
| 917
| 9
| 9
| 43
|
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SELECTION:1[WP] The Joker is set loose on the world of 1984. What happens? (x-post r/AskReddit)
DELAY0=8
RESPONSE0: Holy shit I love you
DELAY1=9
RESPONSE1: They say in this day and age it is impossible to stay hidden. He did it though. When everybody knows that everyone is watched every single moment of their pitiful lives, it makes those in charge even more afraid of the man who isn’t. The Bat. He seeks to help the people of this world, by hiding in the darkness to show it can be done. To give the world a symbol, a beacon of hope. But while he prefers the darkness, people like me…..well, we prefer the SPOTLIGHT!!!! Because for every man there is a woman. For every cat there is a dog. For every prisoner, a jailer. And for every Knight………..A Joker.
You see, I was special. My father was a very important man in the government so I was allowed certain freedoms that others were not. Namely I was allowed to find love. Others were not, It was treated as a disease, a sickness. But not me. I found her when we were only children, Harleen, She was from Eurasia, and I would have my father order her over in the name of international cooperation. She was always so nice to me. She used to say that if we were such good friends and I was always so happy to see her why I didn’t smile more. People here do not smile. It is considered abnormal, pervasive. When we were sixteen we had our first night together, it was everything I thought it would be until…….
The next morning I awoke to the sounds of my door being busted down. Four men burst in and grabbed Harleen. They said that I was fraternizing with the enemy. How could she be the enemy she was from Eurasia, they had been our closest allies for years. They claimed otherwise, they claimed EastAsia was our allies and that my father and I were aiding the enemy. We were all taking to a place no man dare mention. We were tortured, brainwashed tortured again, and by the time we were let out not one of us survived. Our bodies may have been alive but what made us who we were was no longer there.
Years passed by, allies
SELECTION:"
| 1
| 1,881
| 0
| 1,881
| 912
| 5
| 917
| 8
| 9
|
"
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SELECTION:1[WP] The Joker is set loose on the world of 1984. What happens? (x-post r/AskReddit)
DELAY0=9
RESPONSE0: They say in this day and age it is impossible to stay hidden. He did it though. When everybody knows that everyone is watched every single moment of their pitiful lives, it makes those in charge even more afraid of the man who isn’t. The Bat. He seeks to help the people of this world, by hiding in the darkness to show it can be done. To give the world a symbol, a beacon of hope. But while he prefers the darkness, people like me…..well, we prefer the SPOTLIGHT!!!! Because for every man there is a woman. For every cat there is a dog. For every prisoner, a jailer. And for every Knight………..A Joker.
You see, I was special. My father was a very important man in the government so I was allowed certain freedoms that others were not. Namely I was allowed to find love. Others were not, It was treated as a disease, a sickness. But not me. I found her when we were only children, Harleen, She was from Eurasia, and I would have my father order her over in the name of international cooperation. She was always so nice to me. She used to say that if we were such good friends and I was always so happy to see her why I didn’t smile more. People here do not smile. It is considered abnormal, pervasive. When we were sixteen we had our first night together, it was everything I thought it would be until…….
The next morning I awoke to the sounds of my door being busted down. Four men burst in and grabbed Harleen. They said that I was fraternizing with the enemy. How could she be the enemy she was from Eurasia, they had been our closest allies for years. They claimed otherwise, they claimed EastAsia was our allies and that my father and I were aiding the enemy. We were all taking to a place no man dare mention. We were tortured, brainwashed tortured again, and by the time we were let out not one of us survived. Our bodies may have been alive but what made us who we were was no longer there.
Years passed by, allies
DELAY1=32
RESPONSE1: I was hoping it was about Van Halen.
SELECTION:"
| 0
| 1,881
| 1,881
| 0
| 906
| 917
| 11
| 9
| 32
|
"
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SELECTION:1[WP][film-script] Hannibal Lecter an the Joker try to manipulate eachother, you choose who wins.
DELAY0=3
RESPONSE0: [EDIT: Wow, a month after writing this for fun it blew up overnight. Thanks for all the positive feedback. Time for a bit of self promotion: For those of you who would like to see a continuation (And perhaps more of my original stuff in the future?) I'd love to expand it and put it up on [my blog](http://themattcostaproject.wordpress.com/). Seriously though guys, thank you. I've never been this excited about writing something in a long time. A continuation will come soon! Ideas for a title of this "series" would be cool to hear!]
[EDIT2: Wow! Gold too! Thank you so much! This kind of response really deserves an expansion on the material. Check out my blog and keep up with the posts I put up. With you guys reading, it gives me a great motivator to keep working on this. I'm not just a one trick pony, I'm currently working on a video series based around 100 of my favorite movies as a follow up to my [Top 10 Favorite Superhero Movies](http://youtu.be/voYU_qqTPCc). I also do a bunch of other stuff with my blog. [Here is an update with details on the follow up story!](http://themattcostaproject.wordpress.com/2013/11/29/ive-finally-gone-viral-welcome-new-readers/)]
*INT. ARKHAM ASYLUM - EVENING*
**The hallways are dark. Eerie. Four thuggish guards escort a lone patient, HANNIBAL LECTER, to his new cell. Three guards carry high caliber weapons.**
**The door opens, weapons click, the guards stand facing the prison Lecter is to be placed in.**
**After a beat, the door opens, a guard speaks up. His name, SGT. HANSON.**
*SGT. HANSON:*
(nervous)
No sudden moves clown...
**A ghastly voice echoes from the cell.**
DELAY1=1225
RESPONSE1: Lecter: "this tastes funny"
SELECTION:"
| 0
| 2,058
| 2,264
| 206
| 2,159
| 2,168
| 9
| 3
| 1,225
|
"
SELECTION:0
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SELECTION:1[WP][film-script] Hannibal Lecter an the Joker try to manipulate eachother, you choose who wins.
DELAY0=2
RESPONSE0: [[I think I missed the point completely. But I wrote it, so here it is.]]
In the otherwise silent hall of the Asylum his persistent laughter was like the susurrus of bat wings flapping deep within a cave.
"The others complain about you." a man commented from the adjacent cell, his even voice carrying through the holes in the plexiglass prison to his neighbor.
"Oh really?" the other man said, chortling deeply to himself, "I hope it's not too infectious."
The first man, his cell the pristine white of the inside of an eggshell, turned back to his desk in the corner where his pen and paper lay. "An interesting death rattle, to be sure."
"Death? You think I'm here on hangman's row?" his laughter grew to a crecendo, "Oh no, no no no. You see, I'm needed. I make a pretty little duet for a fine friend all clad in black. It's not in him to see my head roll." He slipped back into the dank corner of his poorly lit cell where he had begun carving letters into the wall. He lifted a finger, the nail cracked and bleeding from the abuse, to trace the words "Joke's on you."
"Quaint." the neighbor responded, "It must feel good to be loved, though your love is stooped and crooked. Is that what keeps you smiling? Or is it filling a hole, as so many loved things do?"
"Love? Love?" his voice grew louder and he stalked toward the wall that divided them, "But of *course* it's love! Of *course* it fills a hole deep inside my wittle heart." He paced back to the middle of the room and raised an astute finger as he paced in circles, "Why, it's three sizes too small, you see? But I have the decency to remain true to my one valiant black knight, where you give up your maiden's favor to any copper that crosses your cage!"
The man in the bright room did not look up from his work, still writing
DELAY1=3
RESPONSE1: [EDIT: Wow, a month after writing this for fun it blew up overnight. Thanks for all the positive feedback. Time for a bit of self promotion: For those of you who would like to see a continuation (And perhaps more of my original stuff in the future?) I'd love to expand it and put it up on [my blog](http://themattcostaproject.wordpress.com/). Seriously though guys, thank you. I've never been this excited about writing something in a long time. A continuation will come soon! Ideas for a title of this "series" would be cool to hear!]
[EDIT2: Wow! Gold too! Thank you so much! This kind of response really deserves an expansion on the material. Check out my blog and keep up with the posts I put up. With you guys reading, it gives me a great motivator to keep working on this. I'm not just a one trick pony, I'm currently working on a video series based around 100 of my favorite movies as a follow up to my [Top 10 Favorite Superhero Movies](http://youtu.be/voYU_qqTPCc). I also do a bunch of other stuff with my blog. [Here is an update with details on the follow up story!](http://themattcostaproject.wordpress.com/2013/11/29/ive-finally-gone-viral-welcome-new-readers/)]
*INT. ARKHAM ASYLUM - EVENING*
**The hallways are dark. Eerie. Four thuggish guards escort a lone patient, HANNIBAL LECTER, to his new cell. Three guards carry high caliber weapons.**
**The door opens, weapons click, the guards stand facing the prison Lecter is to be placed in.**
**After a beat, the door opens, a guard speaks up. His name, SGT. HANSON.**
*SGT. HANSON:*
(nervous)
No sudden moves clown...
**A ghastly voice echoes from the cell.**
SELECTION:"
| 1
| 2,224
| 40
| 2,264
| 994
| 1,174
| 2,168
| 2
| 3
|
"
SELECTION:0
SELECTION:1
SELECTION:0
SELECTION:1
SELECTION:0
SELECTION:1
SELECTION:0
SELECTION:1
SELECTION:0
SELECTION:1
SELECTION:0
SELECTION:1[WP][film-script] Hannibal Lecter an the Joker try to manipulate eachother, you choose who wins.
DELAY0=6
RESPONSE0: *L’enfer, c’est autres…,* Lecter quietly mused. He looked up from his pair of sevens to the flop (a seven, ten, and a jack), then up to his host, a look of severe ennui stretched across his face accentuated by the liberal application of cosmetics. Or was that his natural skin tone?
“All in”, Hannibal said.
“Call”, the Joker responded absent-mindedly as he propped a foot up against the table and began picking at his toenails with a hairpin.
Lecter didn’t need to be a trained psychiatrist, not that it has actually helped, to know that the game had finally, after eighteen gruelling hours, been won.
Before the match started, he had carefully nicked each card in the deck so he could identify them on the spot, and the Joker held a measly pair of twos. The two of hearts is about to be burned on the river, and with triple sevens Hannibal’s victory was guaranteed…
“Two of Spades”, the turn card came up. Lecter might’ve felt nervous, considering the joker’s extraordinary luck, if he didn’t know the final two has long been discarded.
“Aaaand, the moment of truth”, the Joker cackled, as he suddenly sat upright and began drumming his index fingers on the table.
*It’s a King of Clubs*, Lecter thought to himself… as a Guarantee claim card came up. The only sign of surprise Lecter showed was a slight twitch of his right eyebrow.
The Joker, meanwhile, blew up in laughter, “HAHAHAHA, you probably thought victory was guaranteed”
Hannibal shot the Joker a cold look and said dryly, “ I guess I didn’t get rid of all the Jokers”
“Now, now, Hanni boy”, the joker gasped between bouts of laughter, “you know the rules
DELAY1=3
RESPONSE1: [EDIT: Wow, a month after writing this for fun it blew up overnight. Thanks for all the positive feedback. Time for a bit of self promotion: For those of you who would like to see a continuation (And perhaps more of my original stuff in the future?) I'd love to expand it and put it up on [my blog](http://themattcostaproject.wordpress.com/). Seriously though guys, thank you. I've never been this excited about writing something in a long time. A continuation will come soon! Ideas for a title of this "series" would be cool to hear!]
[EDIT2: Wow! Gold too! Thank you so much! This kind of response really deserves an expansion on the material. Check out my blog and keep up with the posts I put up. With you guys reading, it gives me a great motivator to keep working on this. I'm not just a one trick pony, I'm currently working on a video series based around 100 of my favorite movies as a follow up to my [Top 10 Favorite Superhero Movies](http://youtu.be/voYU_qqTPCc). I also do a bunch of other stuff with my blog. [Here is an update with details on the follow up story!](http://themattcostaproject.wordpress.com/2013/11/29/ive-finally-gone-viral-welcome-new-readers/)]
*INT. ARKHAM ASYLUM - EVENING*
**The hallways are dark. Eerie. Four thuggish guards escort a lone patient, HANNIBAL LECTER, to his new cell. Three guards carry high caliber weapons.**
**The door opens, weapons click, the guards stand facing the prison Lecter is to be placed in.**
**After a beat, the door opens, a guard speaks up. His name, SGT. HANSON.**
*SGT. HANSON:*
(nervous)
No sudden moves clown...
**A ghastly voice echoes from the cell.**
SELECTION:"
| 1
| 2,234
| 30
| 2,264
| 852
| 1,316
| 2,168
| 6
| 3
|
"
SELECTION:0
SELECTION:1
SELECTION:0
SELECTION:1
SELECTION:0
SELECTION:1
SELECTION:0
SELECTION:1
SELECTION:0
SELECTION:1
SELECTION:0
SELECTION:1[WP][film-script] Hannibal Lecter an the Joker try to manipulate eachother, you choose who wins.
DELAY0=1231
RESPONSE0: Batman descends through the darkness of the warehouse to once again capture an unconscious Joker. Smoke and the muffled cries of the wounded rise up to engulf him.
"So many times," he thinks, "so many times I've done this." He grunts softly as he lifts the Joker's unconscious form, breathes deep before rising swiftly. "I can't stop him. He'll just keep on coming. He needs to be contained. " Batman's shadow curls over the Joker's face as Batman whispers to him: "Time for you to meet your analyst."
***
Joker wakes in his cell. Familiar rents in the walls and the tiring attempts to hide cameras and microphones make him sit up with a little less spring than he would normally present to the world. Everything the same. Again.
"I'm tired of this game, Bats. We'll have to write our final chapter soon enough." He'd barely finished speaking before the bustle of many little helpers stopped outside his door.
"Commissioner Gordon, what a pleasant surprise! How kind of you to drop by. Perhaps you're here to fluff my pillows? Or perhaps finally lose it completely and beat me to death with your favorite truncheon? That's it there, isn't it, in your holster?"
Gordon remained impassive and something in the way he didn't curl his lip cut Joker's laugh short.
"I'm doing this as the result of an order that I strongly dispute. However, I am required by law to inform you that you are to have a cellmate."
Gordon raised a hand to forestall the inevitable outburst. Joker, utterly delighted at this new game waved a royal permission and Gordon continued through gritted teeth.
"I do not believe any good can come out of this, no matter the result." Gordon looked down at his feet, his words trailing off. "This pairing of the two of you is an ill thing, and only ill can come of it. I can only apologize for my role in this act of inhumanity."
Joker had listened carefully but he could hear no whisper of a lie in
DELAY1=3
RESPONSE1: [EDIT: Wow, a month after writing this for fun it blew up overnight. Thanks for all the positive feedback. Time for a bit of self promotion: For those of you who would like to see a continuation (And perhaps more of my original stuff in the future?) I'd love to expand it and put it up on [my blog](http://themattcostaproject.wordpress.com/). Seriously though guys, thank you. I've never been this excited about writing something in a long time. A continuation will come soon! Ideas for a title of this "series" would be cool to hear!]
[EDIT2: Wow! Gold too! Thank you so much! This kind of response really deserves an expansion on the material. Check out my blog and keep up with the posts I put up. With you guys reading, it gives me a great motivator to keep working on this. I'm not just a one trick pony, I'm currently working on a video series based around 100 of my favorite movies as a follow up to my [Top 10 Favorite Superhero Movies](http://youtu.be/voYU_qqTPCc). I also do a bunch of other stuff with my blog. [Here is an update with details on the follow up story!](http://themattcostaproject.wordpress.com/2013/11/29/ive-finally-gone-viral-welcome-new-readers/)]
*INT. ARKHAM ASYLUM - EVENING*
**The hallways are dark. Eerie. Four thuggish guards escort a lone patient, HANNIBAL LECTER, to his new cell. Three guards carry high caliber weapons.**
**The door opens, weapons click, the guards stand facing the prison Lecter is to be placed in.**
**After a beat, the door opens, a guard speaks up. His name, SGT. HANSON.**
*SGT. HANSON:*
(nervous)
No sudden moves clown...
**A ghastly voice echoes from the cell.**
SELECTION:"
| 1
| 2,253
| 11
| 2,264
| 220
| 2,388
| 2,168
| 1,231
| 3
|
"
SELECTION:0
SELECTION:1
SELECTION:0
SELECTION:1
SELECTION:0
SELECTION:1
SELECTION:0
SELECTION:1
SELECTION:0
SELECTION:1
SELECTION:0
SELECTION:1
SELECTION:0
SELECTION:1
SELECTION:0
SELECTION:1
SELECTION:0
SELECTION:1
SELECTION:0
SELECTION:1
SELECTION:0
SELECTION:1
SELECTION:0
SELECTION:1
SELECTION:0
SELECTION:1
SELECTION:0
SELECTION:1
SELECTION:0
SELECTION:1
SELECTION:0
SELECTION:1
SELECTION:0
SELECTION:1
SELECTION:0
SELECTION:1
SELECTION:0
SELECTION:1
SELECTION:0
SELECTION:1
SELECTION:0
SELECTION:1
SELECTION:0
SELECTION:1
SELECTION:0
SELECTION:1
SELECTION:0
SELECTION:1
SELECTION:0
SELECTION:1
SELECTION:0
SELECTION:1
SELECTION:0
SELECTION:1
SELECTION:0
SELECTION:1
SELECTION:0
SELECTION:1
SELECTION:0
SELECTION:1
SELECTION:0
SELECTION:1
SELECTION:0
SELECTION:1
SELECTION:0
SELECTION:1
SELECTION:0
SELECTION:1
SELECTION:0
SELECTION:1
SELECTION:0
SELECTION:1
SELECTION:0
SELECTION:1
SELECTION:0
SELECTION:1
SELECTION:0
SELECTION:1
SELECTION:0
SELECTION:1
SELECTION:0
SELECTION:1
SELECTION:0
SELECTION:1
SELECTION:0
SELECTION:1
SELECTION:0
SELECTION:1
SELECTION:0
SELECTION:1
SELECTION:0
SELECTION:1
SELECTION:0
SELECTION:1
SELECTION:0
SELECTION:1
SELECTION:0
SELECTION:1[WP][film-script] Hannibal Lecter an the Joker try to manipulate eachother, you choose who wins.
DELAY0=1226
RESPONSE0: i actually read it thinking of ledgers joker with hamills voice. would be so interested to see these two together
DELAY1=3
RESPONSE1: [EDIT: Wow, a month after writing this for fun it blew up overnight. Thanks for all the positive feedback. Time for a bit of self promotion: For those of you who would like to see a continuation (And perhaps more of my original stuff in the future?) I'd love to expand it and put it up on [my blog](http://themattcostaproject.wordpress.com/). Seriously though guys, thank you. I've never been this excited about writing something in a long time. A continuation will come soon! Ideas for a title of this "series" would be cool to hear!]
[EDIT2: Wow! Gold too! Thank you so much! This kind of response really deserves an expansion on the material. Check out my blog and keep up with the posts I put up. With you guys reading, it gives me a great motivator to keep working on this. I'm not just a one trick pony, I'm currently working on a video series based around 100 of my favorite movies as a follow up to my [Top 10 Favorite Superhero Movies](http://youtu.be/voYU_qqTPCc). I also do a bunch of other stuff with my blog. [Here is an update with details on the follow up story!](http://themattcostaproject.wordpress.com/2013/11/29/ive-finally-gone-viral-welcome-new-readers/)]
*INT. ARKHAM ASYLUM - EVENING*
**The hallways are dark. Eerie. Four thuggish guards escort a lone patient, HANNIBAL LECTER, to his new cell. Three guards carry high caliber weapons.**
**The door opens, weapons click, the guards stand facing the prison Lecter is to be placed in.**
**After a beat, the door opens, a guard speaks up. His name, SGT. HANSON.**
*SGT. HANSON:*
(nervous)
No sudden moves clown...
**A ghastly voice echoes from the cell.**
SELECTION:"
| 1
| 2,262
| 2
| 2,264
| 2,143
| 25
| 2,168
| 1,226
| 3
|
YAML Metadata Warning:
empty or missing yaml metadata in repo card
(https://huggingface.co/docs/hub/datasets-cards)
This repo consists of data downloaded from reddit.com/r/writingprompts
prompt_responses_full.csv
- There are 193842 prompt responses in the file, and they together represent the 10 years of submissions prior to March, 13th, 2020.
I gather the following metadata for each top-level comment response to a submission story prompt:
- prompt_id: int
- The id of the Reddit submission that the writing prompt is from according to the Reddit API.
- prompt: str
- The text of the writing prompt.
- prompt_score: int
- The total karma score of the Reddit submission that the writing prompt is from.
- prompt_created_utc: int
- The prompt creation time in Unix epoch seconds
- response_id: int
- The id of the Reddit comment containing the response to the writing prompt.
- response: str
- The text of the response.
- response_score: int
- The total karma score of the Reddit comment that the given response is from.
- response_created_utc: int
- The response creation time in Unix epoch seconds.
- response_rank: int
- The index of the response in the list of responses for the given prompt sorted according to response_score from highest score to lowest.
- num_responses: int
- The total number of responses to the given prompt.
- response_children: List[str]
- The subcomments on the comment containing the given response to the given prompt.
comparisons_train.csv and comparisons_test.csv
The comparison data is extracted from pairs of responses for a given prompt.
- There are 35200 comparisons in comparisons_test.csv and 334704 comparisons in comparisons_train.csv
- The comparisons dataset is filtered to remove comparisons between responses with an absolute difference in score less than 100.
- This is to ensure that comparisons are only made between responses that have a significant quality difference.
In particular, each row in the comparisons dataframe consists of the following:
- comparison: str
- The comparison string consists of the writing prompt, the first response, and the second response, separated with labels, and padded on the left to 1023 tokens.
- truth: int
- 0 if the first response has a higher score, 1 if the second response has a higher score (note that there are no ties because of the minimum score gap constraint)
- prompt_id: int
- The id of the Reddit submission that the writing prompt is from according to the Reddit API.
- prompt: str
- The text of the writing prompt.
- zero_id: int
- The id of the Reddit comment containing the first response in the comparison.
- one_id: int
- The id of the Reddit comment containing the second response in the comparison.
- zero_response: str
- The text of the first response in the comparison.
- one_response: str
- The text of the second response in the comparison.
- score_gap: int
- The absolute difference between the score of the first response and the score of the second response.
- zero_score: int
- The score of the first response.
- one_score: int
- The score of the second response.
- tokens_gap: int
- The absolute difference between the number of tokens in the first response and the number of tokens in the second response.
- zero_tokens: int
- The number of tokens in the first response as measured by the gpt2 tokenizer
- one_tokens: int
- The number of tokens in the second response as measured by the gpt2 tokenizer
- zero_delay: int
- The number of hours elapsed between the Reddit submission containing the prompt and the Reddit comment containing the first response.
- one_delay: int
- The number of hours elapsed between the Reddit submission containing the prompt and the Reddit comment containing the second response.
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