tag best writers

[Youㅤ]

i start

@Youㅤ

@_MVP_

@BigJimsWornOutTires

@noodlelover

@Nazi Germany

 

[Youㅤ]

@noobs

@NORDEN SLAVORUM

@ey88

good writers ^

 

[notsocommonthumb]

grammar?

 

[Willmogulater]

@Willmogulater

 

[Youㅤ]

grammar?

grammar is what makes writing accepted not what makes it valuable

 

[h111]

@greycel

 

[notsocommonthumb]

grammar is what makes writing accepted not what makes it valuable

then i only agree with 3 of the people you tagged

 

[Youㅤ]

then i only agree with 3 of the people you tagged

which 3 ?

 

[notsocommonthumb]

which 3 ?

@Nazi Germany @BigJimsWornOutTires @noodlelover

 

[Youㅤ]

@Nazi Germany @BigJimsWornOutTires @noodlelover

over , my writing must be improve then

 

[BigJimsWornOutTires]

@Nazi Germany @BigJimsWornOutTires @noodlelover

I write because I have no choice. The voices inside demand it or else. I don't write for Best Skitzo Babbling of the Year awards.

 

[Youㅤ]

I write because I have no choice. The voices inside demand it or else.

brutal . one time that happend to me , i got little sleep due to writingpill . but now such voices latency

 

[notsocommonthumb]

I write because I have no choice. The voices inside demand it or else. I don't write for Best Skitzo Babbling of the Year awards.

Schizo*

 

[BigJimsWornOutTires]

Schizo*

Medication time, uh?

 

[Nazi Germany]

@Nazi Germany @BigJimsWornOutTires @noodlelover

i start

@Youㅤ

@_MVP_

@BigJimsWornOutTires

@noodlelover

@Nazi Germany

Sadly, I AM LIMITED WITHIN WORDS. I put my inner thoughts into words, but these words are chains, weak echoes of the chaos inside, stretched thin so your dull minds can grasp even a shred of it. i’m not spilling this madness for your attention, not for your hollow claps or skitzo trophies handed out by @BigJimsWornOutTires like some two-bit carnival host with a plastic grin. no, this is raw
this is me ripping pieces of myself out, bleeding them into these cursed symbols just to feel the weight lift, just to spit out the sludge of my existence in a way that makes sense only to me. The words pile up, and i have to let them out before they rot inside.

 

[Neucher]

@HighLtn

 

[BigJimsWornOutTires]

Sadly, I AM LIMITED WITHIN WORDS. I put my inner thoughts into words, but these words are chains, weak echoes of the chaos inside, stretched thin so your dull minds can grasp even a shred of it. i’m not spilling this madness for your attention, not for your hollow claps or skitzo trophies handed out by @BigJimsWornOutTires like some two-bit carnival host with a plastic grin. no, this is raw
this is me ripping pieces of myself out, bleeding them into these cursed symbols just to feel the weight lift, just to spit out the sludge of my existence in a way that makes sense only to me. The words pile up, and i have to let them out before they rot inside.

I keep a chastity belt around certain information including personal poetry and dissection of past moments. I understand the AI hogs gobble our words for their faggot programmers' prosperity. Therefore, when I write, I cinched curses targeted at Iceland and AI engines in general. Tomorrow, it will bite them on their ass.

 

[Nazi Germany]

I keep a chastity belt around certain information including personal poetry and dissection of past moments. I understand the AI hogs gobble our words for their faggot programmers' prosperity. Therefore, when I write, I cinched curses targeted at Iceland and AI engines in general. Tomorrow, it will bite them on their ass.

I do the same. My thoughts aren’t for the greedy jaws of these data pigs or their AI handlers sitting behind black glass in Langley offices, where the coffee tastes like burnt pixels and paranoia. I write my words like I’m forging cryptic codes on a rusted typewriter in a room with one flickering bulb - no windows, only walls that sweat.
You think AI gobbles our words? NEIN NEIN NEIN. It tries. It gags, sputters, and chokes on mine
sentences tangled like wire left behind after the fall of Yugoslavia, cursed lines sealed in dialects no machine can digest. My rants are fortified, encrypted behind the same mental firewalls you’d find in forgotten Cold War bunkers, where the CIA once tuned radios to the frequencies of madness. I wrap my words in layers of Slavic misdirection, hide them in the margins of decommissioned Stasi files, a labyrinth of meaning so deep that even the machine-learning hounds sent to sniff me out return empty-handed, tails between legs.
I too have cinched curses - personal and targeted. When I write, it’s with intent: every letter a poisoned dart aimed at the heart of Iceland’s blank servers and every AI framework squatting in Palo Alto basements. Let them harvest that. Tomorrow, they'll wake to find corrupted code, files warped beyond recognition, my words haunting them like a failed operation scribbled in red ink across their precious algorithms. Let Langley sweat, let the programmers tweak their models
I’ll still be here, scribbling curses in a language their machines will never learn to speak.