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Discussion Starter · #1 ·
Automatic writing means you write everything that comes into your mind.
It doesn't have to make sense at all. It can be a bunch of unrelated words or sentences put together. It can be foul language. Just let your mind wander and write as fast as you could, and set yourself a time limit (e.g. 5 mins).
The ideal is actually writing on a paper, but I think it's ok to type too (If you like you may take a picture of your hand writing). You can use the language you are most familiar with, but please provide a translation or a description too.


Ok, me first:

(Originally written in Cantonese)
 
那麼我有一件事要做,因為腦筋要因空洞爆裂了。 這從來不是有效的詞語,我找不到適合的形容詞。 你重新塑造了你的模樣。 我斗膽說這不是個好的開始。 我本來打算說一個有關顏色的故事,因為他會樂意聆聽。 可是他應該仍然倒掛在哪裡,口中吐着胡言亂語。 發出惡臭,所以我不能如此選擇。 真正的倒吊人說,這樣子也很有趣,事實是沒有所謂的基本法律。 你看,命運之輪也有鬆脫的一日,在52之中誕生了新的無理數。 你毋須運算,獅子在沉眠,至少你不急於提供一個答案,綠色的海洋在燃燒,溺死了千隻蛾。 我們沒需要回到過去,戀人牽手失去了意識,誰都不知道甚麼是對的,誰說了謊。 矛盾有它的存在意義,回家的日子劃上一個圓。 門敞開,空中浮游着符號的粒子。 閉上眼睛你會發現蛾屍的磷光,你慢慢的浮上天上,靜聽最後的答案。 你會失望嗎?當你所有的努力只是用來期待一封未寫的信。 筆記本裡最後的墨染水化了,成了這個世界的汙染。 那麼絕望鄉的名字才得到了聲調。

Translation:
Then I have one thing I need to do, because my brain is exploding due to emptiness. This was never a valid word, I can't find a suitable adjective. You created your appearance again. I dare to say this is not a good beginning. I was going to tell a story about colors, because he was willing to listen. But he is still hanging upside down there, spitting messy speeches from his mouth. Emitting bad smell, so I can't choose this. The real hanging man said, it is also fun this way, in fact there's no so-called basic law. Look, the wheel of fortune will one day come off, born a new irrational number in 52. You don't have to calculate, the lion is sleeping, at least you don't have to hurry to provide an answer, the green ocean is burning, drowned a thousand moths. We don't have to go back to the past, the lovers lost consciousness while holding hands, no one knows what is right, who told the lie. Contradiction exists for a meaning, draw a circle on the day back home. Door wide opened, particles of symbol floating in mid air. Close your eyes you will find the phosphorescence of the moths' body, you slowly float up to the sky, quietly listen to the last answer. Will you be disappointed? When all your effort is spent longing for a letter not yet written. In the notebook the last ink dye became water, became pollution of this world. So that the name of dystopia will get its sound.


Personally I am an INFP who do loves to write and want to be a writer, but hope this activity entertain all! Sometimes automatic writing can be very fun or revealing :cool:
 

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The only chance he had to conclude was to make a preponderance of evidence of astral low-down how-down show-down slow-down go to town Motown bloat clown walking down the street of the aquiesence to the poetry punitive punishment nun-abandonement project. Left-wing lIberal libidinal derigible orignal Kernel Fried Chicken lied kicking by the wayside.
Did you ever have the feeling that you shouldn't have but did? And then you wake up and you didn't?!? Kiddint.
I am a long man away from long ham please try to please me guys. It's all I'm asking for! Love your neighbor as your slaver. Ride the back of the bike. "hey folks that's all she wrote" - EMOTE
Please do not sit on the couch and make love to three women at a time that's goush!
Ghoulish goulash Turkey prime ministry of magic the magic Dragon Graden photos long pothos. Garden POTHOS!!!!!!
Pathos. Bathos. Let the cat go. Down down down you fall. No way 2 stahp.
Please stop. Please remove your top. Wow.
Break it down and build it up you fucking stay-at-home Nazis!
 

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Discussion Starter · #3 ·
Seems not much people is interested? Ok, my turn to write then.

"This is not really that I thought I fought someone like I didn't maybe I should take a rest?? XD Like, it is what what time now, language is so different! I shouldn't be thinking oh here comes again that thing. What shoud I put next a missing net? Ok how do I do this this... create something out of thin air. Pull into jail, the music is too loud it doesn't make sense it's the softest whisper ever it feels like background. it's dark, I mistyped, mistyped?? I am confused, but not really, you are. Indeed I can see, a ghost, in your mind in my mind , it doesn't really necessarily. Time is still going on much ado about nothing. eh nothing does this make sense?"

Ah, I suddenly remembered the first time I wrote an automatic writing. It was confusing too XD
 

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I often begin that where I end - a stream of subconsciousness in a free fall towards what? Ever pleasant thoughts pursued but what am I pursuing? Playful thoughts plague the mind in patterns never repeated. Powerful words curse counterintuitive thought. Slanderous fellows fortunate in folly forget the woes of misconduct. What ever am I saying in a world of whispers? Should I even say anything at all. Thoughts pursued follow footsteps to action. Maybe my loudest part of me is my feet.
 

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I remember all those moments
And one in particular.
You Sneaking glances to see if I understood your words
You thought I was so much more innocent than I am.
But I avoided eye contact with you and pretended to be doodling.
Yet I could feel your gaze on me
So I had to eventually look up.
And you were looking at me:blushed:
I kept a straight face and you were searching it for some meaning
And you assumed I was much more innocent
So you smiled and "awwwed" and gave me an affectionate look
That an adult would give a child.
And I blushed
Internally...
Because I did understand
And because you looked right at me.
I earned respect in your mind that day, I think.
Naive respect.
 

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when you let yourself go - really let yourself go and allow thoughts to fall forth in an endless array of dynamite purposes explosions pursue. That which one perceives is often misconstrued. Where are we going from here she asked? I never really knew. Passionate pursuit of patronizing patterns perfectly pretending to be something they're not. Where are we going from here? We cannot take a significant meaning from all of this. Or can we? Is there more to the subconcious than we can seem to understand? It's all a jumble isn't it? I am definitely more tired than when I first began. Perhaps a rest would do me well or even a cup of tea. Following thoughts endlessly. Let's not forget where we're going. Where is that, you ask? Well who knows, my dear. We're only trying to figure that out. Give it a rest, you say? Aren't we headed somewhere? Should we not figure out our direction. Or are we to all walk aimlessly, mindlessly into a meaningless form of forever? I should think not. Let's press forward for sure but lets check where forward is first. If we are following someone's footsteps do we do so blindly? I should hope not. For no man walks for unmotivated purposes. And no man seeks completely selflessly does he? I'd rather not follow in a pursuit of nothing, my dear. I'd rather go somewhere interesting. Where is this interesting place, you ask? Let me tell you about my mind. If anything were interesting.... My mind is a place where magical things happen. One can get lost, you know. With trips and travels and spirals and walls, it's an interesting place to befall. But the beauty is unmatched by physical things. You can't really describe it, can you? Dive in my dear. It'll be a wild ride. Not a thought to be had goes unnoticed. It's all a part of the elaborate plan. What plan, you ask? Well who should know! I certainly don't. Let's not give it too much thought, my dear this place can trip you up. Only go to the designated water holes. The others aren't for drinking. She doesn't do that much anyways. The waves aren't dangerous they're only sticky. Don't get caught in a wave of thought. You may never return, my dear. Those are a different kind of rabbit hole and if we're on the topic of forevers. Don't head in the direction of mindless emotion it's not a pretty sight. It's a rare occasion, I do assure you but it is an interesting plight. Follow the guided paths, my dear. They're built intentionally. She trims the grass frequently but the paths are kept up well. She dances on them sometimes. Who are we kidding? All the time. Her dances do go on forever. It's kind of a pretty thing, the way she moves. Her grace is elegant and mannered. Don't watch her for to long, her adventures are meant to be private. If you spy on her she'll only find a better place to dance. Feel free to laugh wherever you go. It's a funny place in here. Laughter is encouraged by all means. Don't give in to the bitter feelings bouncing around. She doesn't let those stick in her waves of thought so they're looking for a home. They're dangerous balls of fury, aren't they? Almost like breathing fire. She tries to keep her breath minty and fresh although she slips up on occasion. The thoughts that proceed outward are meant to be kindly but one can never keep themselves in line one hundred percent of the time. Isn't it colorful though? The spirals and swirls are not delusional it's just her kind of fun. She branches out into several spaces of the delicate landing in time and space. Try not to dance too daintily on the ever increasing webs. She has only so much room for memory though she rarely forgets a thing.
 

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His hand gripping the pencil, begging for a word to come to him, the lead breaking bit by bit on the pad of paper. Nothing. He stared out his window on a cold December midnight. Feeling swallowed up inside. The only light shining from a candle lamp on his desk and the lamp post across the street illuminating the snow as it drifted down. Not a soul. Outside or in. The ticking from the clock on his bedside table echoed in his mind solidifying beyond all doubt that he was indeed alone in a silent world.



(I enjoyed this greatly! Thank you very much for posting!)
 

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I seem to have lost my train of thought. It often gets derailed. Pushing boundaries in a relentless pursuit of animal crackers would not be the most boring way to die. Who are we kidding though? I'm not a fan of animal crackers. Perhaps I should head to bed. Perhaps I should give this up. Thoughts can only do so much. Can't we aspire to be more than the outflow of our minds? Or is too complicated for that? Let's not focus on the simpler things when we can dive into the complex. And speaking of complex - I seem to have lost my train of thought. It often gets derailed.
 

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I sat at my desk near the window as I have been every night for the past month, trying to finish this novel. The room smelt of cheap wine and cigarettes. Typical writer, I scoffed at the thought. The protagonist was about to meet the antagonist face to face for the first time and I was stuck. I lit another cigarette and stared out the window. The lights inside the house across the street went out and a man exited the front door. It was that wretched Raskolnikov. Off to get drunk no doubt, I said to myself. I have never met a soul more miserable than Raskolnikov and I am certain that no drug nor love will cure what ever torments him. To be quite honest, I don't know what keeps him alive. He appears deathly ill. Apparently once a handsome young man, now a sorry excuse for a human being.

I took a long drag of my cigarette and snuffed it. And began to type: The lights inside the house across the street....
 

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I really enjoy writing this way. It's interesting that all of the ones that I've written today can be traced back to similar themes. It's enlightening for sure.

So begins Winter's end. Spring sprung forth anew. She bathed in shimmering light falling upon her as the first rays to glance the earth. Flowers took their first deep breaths aligned with her own. Breezes brush branches against branches. The tingle of the chill, a lesser evil than before. She spoke out dawn coloring the sky with words like whispers of wellness lighting a spark into a flame. The harsher realities of the chill begins to fade from your mind. She dances on beds of grass, spinning in delight at last. Joy awoke with the morning. Dawn brought peace again. So ends Spring's beginning.
 

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Discussion Starter · #12 ·
"It's been this way for some time now, I sometimes fall asleep or I stay up all night, there's no in between. What am I talking about? That's not me, someone's in my head. Maybe my head hurts but I don't know, the heart works a different way, Typo typo, spring. Eh, let's say hi to the virus, I hope my computer is fine I need her. To remember. That night nothing happened, time is just ticking like we all ignored it. Who else was in the party? I don't know, their faces are blurred, like the presentation we gave that day. That was a lesson, typos and grammar, don't nazi me, I am sorry, you have every freedom to go. Do I need you? Your name, I wouldn't speak your name. Or anyone's name, too involved in mine, say it, or not, keep quiet, fall asleep, night, good night, stop it, stop your imagination, is that how I live? no wonder I don't want to but no worry. I am a good girl. You said, you didn't mean it, no hard feeling, it wasn't mean to."

(Thank you everyone for joining. I feel flattered!)
 

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I be not sure how to write from the sub Compton lentil mine. But here grows. Trees, surrounded as one hedgehog walks in paragraphs under a shrine next to mine field, of vision, binocular prescription fantastic description. Seductive feline prancing like an Arabian Egyptian. Forming words like i'm hip son, up with the kids down with the figs. Matching bracelets just like Tesla and his inventions, forever caught in his own detention. C. E. O Richard made his own brand son, without catching innocence for ran some, time we love because we miss the third carriage in our train of, i thought... you bought the milk, Jeffrey! How could you and we stoop so high and differentiate from the ingredients in the soup, how could we ever re-coup... é, ohhh madam - you are so suave, literally exquisite pret e manger no espanol a parle. Que? tastrophy, bilingual chicken lips thats why i'm single, in a box of ready peppered pringles, i mean lays, thinking in cross continental ways while living in a amphibious mental. Institute of ministery random lock-ness candid tangent mess, care less whipsers inside mount Everest. Shuffling feet like a pair of lopsided cards. Charades! Sanded maids, with lying hips Akira teaches Shekeira Ernest hips in a studio ghibli. Jesus lived, and his mind was as relaxed as my hair in a top hat in car traveling faster than the speed of darkness.
 

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Tick tock the clock is lock from the flock of ever lasting docks, time is money, friends are poor, ugly woman around the door, to much beer you must stay clear, night out without a doubt is everlasting but also frustrating, the wind comes from the south, nice and easy, long last but smells of death, like the dirtyiest street in the world.

Think ill name it "Mind before coffee'
 

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headache traffic loud receding meditation hard and helpful two rats for me to Trust Train five weeks apart, soon and so much preparation tonight is Movie Night we'll watch Tender Mercies that's the plan our friend has kidney stones this film will be a better choice than the darker ones my husband and I looked at said no to just play with Pickles and smile I need it the pain fatigue fear all strong today I've been as mindful of it as I could stand and mindful of how little that was Bhante Gunaratana said easy gentle no condemnation I noticed self-blame and so much more intense and hard to face the civilized way I was taught to skip Reality.
 

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This exercise seems scary, one might reveal all the kinds of things on ones mind. I am not sure it will work perfectly as I don't usually think in this language, and I am scared to reaveal things I don't want to say by mistake, perhaps I click reply-button without thinking, perhaps I will think the text is all innocent, but between the lines hides symbols of things that someone else can dicipher. The other texts in this thread didn't sound like this, coherent, they're more poetic, but it is fairly quiet in my head, not much chatter, my thoughts are not in words, so once words comes it is a bit of a semiconsious effort. I like glimmering guitars, I listen to some right now, and lyrics about fruit as candy, while eating some easter candy, which seems appropriate. I want some more coffee, but it is late, so shouldn't. Is this really what is on my mind? yes, I guess, though not all. I am also a bit annoyed by the other music playing at the same time, I am a bit worried about something tomorrow morning, I am constantly worried about my cat, but also feel a bit warm by the fact that she is home, and slept on my chest last night(fell asleep in the sofa... pollen makes me tired these days), I am guilty about workstuff, and moneyworries, and a feeling like little of all this matter at all, that what is it in the scope of things? And you can't see it now, but I just deleted half a sentence, because it became too revealing, it is so easy to make something slip. Today children were supposed to come knocking on the door asking for candy dressed as a kind of witches, supposedly on their way to an orgy with the devil, but the tradition seems to be nearly gone, feels a bit sad, it was such an absurd tradition. I don't know if there is much point to this exercise if one keeps censoring oneself, it just becomes like a monologue of smalltalk, I don't dare to set my Ne all free, because it will easily slip into the areas of my mind that is private, because those things are always on my mind, always on my mind, not the center of it, but there in the background, waiting for me to loose up my guard and then attack. One has to live the life one can, not regret the impossible lives not lived, but it is not easy.
 

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I sat down by the front window on a sunny Thursday afternoon. Spring is here. The birds are out fluttering from branch to branch then down to the brown-green grass in hopes to find a seed or two. I watched them for a few minutes and thought, why don't humans eat tree birds? They seem to love chickens. How odd. My stomach grumbled a bit. I threw up again this morning at the kitchen table. All over the chair and floor. They both saw and sighed in disappointment. The one said to the other, 'and he was doing so well'. Every morning. 1 pill and this different food. They are having doubts that its making a difference. I wish I knew what was wrong with me. I yawned. I think a nap would do me some good. I jumped down from the desk where I was sitting, found my bed across from the bathroom beside the couch. One turn as always to get comfortable and snuggled my nose in my warm tail.
 

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Discussion Starter · #18 ·
"So it's been a bit busy, she said, I had in mind who she is, but btw is this just repeating? Tragedy over tragedy, laughter over laughter and they fade just right, into the time poetic words drop down from menu, there was no choice, now there are. I am suppose to be happy, not to change any words. I don't want to sleep, I see the day, the night, the fight, the rest, I see them jump, I see them fly, I see them cry, let's not be too philosophic, it's just the morning, look at her, do I need her? She came, oh she did. She smiled at my jokes, there wasn't no love. I laughed, how could it be. Time's running out, give me back my rule, my life."
 

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As I write, I see what I'm saying. I see lights effecting my mind. I take my time seeing what you see. What do I see? I had this thoughts of writing stories and expanding beyond its imagination. Dawning of a new day and I see you staring at me and I think... Wow, who are you? He had me saying things like, Gouge, but Thinking days like that made me form my own words. How are you? Daring me to sign my name in thoughts and words. Bye and Bye, Wholly different than I thought. Daring to try something different. I take my time writing and seeing clearer than ever before. Sigh.... I see my breath rising and falling. Sensing my time like ticking and tocking. Howling for what and to whom?


Vapors on the wind , streaming down my legs. Traces of my mind taking their time and breaking the Hind. Unicorns prancing here and there, oh how random my thoughts are just linking here and there. Hearing thoughts and words any rhymes. Fives the name and ruining the game. really how my mind works is unknown even to me.

I hear the wind rising above the east and taking it's time.


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I wasn't expecting any of that to come out like that. This is interesting.
 

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INTP observing the INFPs here. Hi.

INFPs seem to really have this ability to make their writing seemed beautiful for some reason when compared to than INTP's more objectivity and preciseness. Both have Ne, but used in different ways. Interesting to watch.

Anyway, you reminded me of something when you said subconscious messages. Here's another idea if you like to try.
The idea is to imagine a character in your mind and asking this character specific questions to whatever you need and then trusting whatever that character says. It's often suggested to make the character have a specific personality somehow to make the ideas that come out of their mouth more specific to your situation. For some reason, this is suggested to be done imagining it in your favorite place which I theorize is probably connected to the research that relaxation increases creativity.

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Well, I'm kinda bored. So maybe I'll join in.

It's interesting how spatial intelligence seems to increase science grades. Which I'm guessing is probably for the spatial benefits of imagining situations like in physics, the movement of a ball. Though, I wonder if precision is also a benefit. As often in students, they don't notice certain details and the detail work from drawing seems to allow for detail work in science. I wonder where beach balls come from? I bet the material comes from a large history that can be traced to the Big Bang. I've heard that they theorized that the Big Bang is energy from the multiverse. I wonder what parallel universes are like? I want to see a parallel universe where dancing Donald Trumpz aee everywhere. There should be a Donald Trump biscuit made for the purpose of taking revenge and devouring him. Like dinosaurs. They should slowly adapt chickens to turn into a tiny t rex. Im awesome. Roar. What a lion. Roar. Reminds me of mini lion stickers. Where do stickers come from? Why do they stick? Has someone tried to stick it in their anus for sexual purposes? Can i stick it on the middle of a tall building? How the hell do they put large images on buildings? Goddamn. Do they have little people there? A giant machine? Google, save me. Reminds me that Google Deepmind created a program that beat the world's chess champion. Why is it even called deep mind? Are they trying to be deep? Is it literally the word deep that makes them deep? Do I become deep if I'm called DeepRoboticForest? Deep Oprah. Deep Hitler. Deep Ted Bundy. Deep Kim Kardashian. Everyone's deep. Life deep. Hurt deep. Johnny Depth. Now I wanna make a program that will make the deep equivalent of a person, like in a parallel universe. But if they're actually deep, do they go deeper or they go the other way?

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Haha. I can notice the difference between the INFPs and me.
Well, that was actually pretty hilarious. My subconscious is high. Nice to learn.
 
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