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I'll be uploading the new code soon. Right now, I expect to do it within 1 or 2 weeks, it depends on how complicated the last bits of code I have to rewrite are. Then, we'll be able to revitalize this site with new features, a much faster development pace, opening it to outlanders again, advertising it to new users and so on. Took me a long time, I was also very busy with my life for these past 3 years, but we are getting there.

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>>25413 There were a few mods at one point


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/pain/ admin here. (Technically I'm posting with my user account, since my admin account is somehow invalid for posting on my own board.) Realistically speaking, I don't expect /pain/ to generate much traffic, but never the less I should elaborate on my intent, beyond what's in the board FAQ. This board is for posting and talking about physical pain, and mental suffering. It lies in the very basic nature of all things mortal to shun pain. It is unwanted. However, this board is here to also cherish pain, as a necessary force for growth. If pain was just bad, we would quickly evolve beyond it. We learn from pain. The people who cause us pain - unless they kill us - are our teachers that we would do well to learn from, even if sources of pain is among the hardest lessons to come to understand. Pain comes in many various forms, and is a language of its own. Here are some examples of pain and its sources: Mistakes, warnings, disabilities, necessary pain, unnecessary pain, violations, situations, loss, hate, vengance, justice... To me pain is a religion. I believe that suffering cleanses our souls from sin and returns us to innocence. Likewise, people who go without pain for too long, are bound to become wicked and evil in their ways. In this way, pain is like a guiding voice of a higher power. Many religious promises pain for sinners after death, in various hells, and while this wishful dreaming fills people with satisfaction, I instead think that pain should be distributed equally while we still live, so that people can hear the voice of the divine and thus be saved. ...so if you complain on this board, know that while I can sympathize to a degree, I will not condemn whatever happened to you, since pain is such a beautiful thing to me.

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>>3 There exists a world outside of chans and Twitter, where people use double linefeeds all the time, for the sake of readability. Some book authors even use three. I consciously avoid Reddit because it's so infamously moderated, though, and because there already exists a pain subreddit there, that likely doesn't share or agree with my beliefs.



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The hunger for eating the flesh of the dead is strong in my family tree - many times stronger than the average human's. My mother refused her destiny, and she spent her life going in and out of the hospital because of it due to organ failure. Throughout my upbringing she tried to keep me ignorant as well, but she failed. In my waking dreams I see The Great Eater - dreams that come from within, because I am but an unseparable extension of her. The flesh must be eaten.

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Eating is beautiful. There are pro-anas who will claim differently, but I wholly believe that at its core, eating is a virtue of its own. When I have room for it, I eat. I don't wait for the hunger to set in - I just murder because I'm able to. Murder is okay. It is beautiful. It's what we do as living things: We murder and then we eat. People who say that murder is morally bad, beyond just being forbidden by our oppressors, don't know what they're talking about. Murder is good. You consume and you grow stronger. You eat so that you can live, and life is the point of living. This doesn't mean that fat isn't sin - fat IS sin. ...but fat doesn't come from food. It comes from not utilizing the life that you're given then you kill and consume the less living. Eat flesh - not icecream. I promise you, that the more you kill, the more beautiful you will become. Start with small things, like fish and chicken, and then move up the food chain as you grow. You need to eat. You EXIST to eat.

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I am fucking losing it.

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I'm so hungry it hurts, but soon I'll get to eat. My latest victim is heating as we speak. Afterwards, when I can sleep again, I'll go back to bed.

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There is such beauty in the act of devouring. It's beginning to rival masturbating for me, but instead of expending fluids, you fill yourself with life. You make more of yourself. You collect life inside you. There is literally no such thing as "eating too much". I actually eat entire packets of food now. Not those big meat bags, though - those take TWO portions because they can't physically fit inside a bowl. ...but I can't just stop at just ONE pie, nor should I. It's not just beauty either. It's an obsession. It's spiritual. It's awesome. I'm in love with it. I exist to chew and devour as my identity. I need to grow. My body creaks and snaps, as I shift it to make room for more.

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The second pie, covered in two sets of spices, has now gone down my beautifully accomodating gullet, and it now slowly being merged with me. Now it is time for another cup of coffee, to bless this merge with. Oh, I have so much more to eat before bed, and there's just not enough hours in the day! I wanted to drink at least two milkshakes as well! I want it so bad!



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After I had said no, the motherfucker kept going until I was dry and it started to physically hurt! ...and the only thing that finally made her stop, was because people happened upon us. There are embers which still hurt within me enough to make my body recoil, but now, 21 years later, I can pretty much remember it all without screaming out loud to block it all out. Retelling it is useless. It takes a long, long time to put all the pieces there, recalling all those many, many years of systematic stalking just to keep me silent and blamed for it, and ultimately it doesn't help. Nothing helps. Nothing will unmolest you. Nothing will unrape you. Nothing will undestroy you. ...but when it's all been burnt away, and you find that you're still alive, because you were too much of a coward to start carving up your wrists, then you find that that fire that still rages in your brain, is really a gift. A gift to whatever's left of you. A gift to that thing that you've become, that needs fear to be kept at bay. That thing that makes people flee you because they probably really should. ...because I'm not fucking around anymore.

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...and to this day I still sometimes masturbate to pictures of my rapist. ...because I loved her. ...and some whorish part of me still does. You'd think that it wouldn't be possible to both want to hug somebody and furiously murder somebody, at the same time, but it is. I look at her face and this turmoil inside of me just bubbles up to the surface, and I give myself to her like a dirty whore while she silently laughs at what a worthless joke I am. I want to fuck my rapist, forever, in hell. That's what's truly wrong with me. I bond to people I get sexual with, unconditionally. When you hit me in the face, then that's just pain, but when you start to molest me sexually, then things happen inside me that's so much worse. That's when you begin to truly take ownership over me. That's when you begin to seriously confuse my instincts, you motherfucker.



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School is bullshit. I mean they mean well, but ultimately nothing of what they tell you really matters. You can pay attention in class, and graduate with honors, and get a job, and as you do this, you're lulled into a false sense of security. You keep telling yourself that if you're just a good enough person, that nothing bad will happen to you - that you can't possibly be mugged or raped or killed. ...and so you don't drink, you don't smoke, and you eat healthy, and one day you still get kidnapped, and they'll tell you that if you don't just lie down and take it, that they'll kill your family. ...because they can. They absolutely can, and if the police ever finds out who did it, that won't bring any of your loved ones back. ...and so you just have to take it. ...because you paid attention in class, to all that bullshit, and you obeyed your parents, and you were raised into a victim whom nobody cares about. I honestly don't know why we still play these pretentious school and career games when we're deep down afraid for our lives. Everything can be taken from you: Your will, your dignity, your freedom, your family, your life - everything. ...and even when people know, they'll do nothing to help you, because they're afraid too. We put our trust in the police, but the police are next to useless.



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Have you done your daily ritual to keep Kali at bay? She is a hungry goddess, and you think she will eat you last? Hah! You pathetic fool! Affirm your little desperate warding rituals in this thread, but know this: She is coming for you, and she will always triumph in the end! Despair! To Kali goes the spoils!

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The fingers are often the weakest chain in the link. Some people claim that a good grip is just a gimmick, but I really think you need it. Do not neglect your ten little ones. They need love.

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Today is Sunday, the seventh day of the seventh month. It must be a christian holiday or something. ...and speaking of christians, let's talk about the kind of mainstream kind of worship that we often see in christianity, and how it contrasts to genuine worship. See, christians - if they believe themselves to be genuine - visit their church every Sunday, listen to some preacher, and sing their psalms, and that's that. No passion - just a duty: You show up on a certain day, you do your routines, and then you're done and can go on with your life. (1/2)

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This is bullshit, okay? If you are truly devoted to the divine, you wake up, and then you go to work on your prayers like your life depended on it, because it does. If your deities are the real deal, then the minute that you're not praying, it's going to count against you. ...and so you eat your flesh and you say your prayers, and you eat more flesh and you say more prayers, and you keep this up until you're all woozy in the head and can't think straight. Then you can consider yourself done. Then you sleep. Next day you start over again. Obviously you should also tend to your needs, but my point is that there is no DAY to worship on, and no specific PSALMS to sing. That's just pretentious. You know how to chew flesh, and you know how to pray, and that's it: Go at it 'til you drop. "But Anon, if you sing psalm 355 every Sunday, then that's optimal." Fuck your memes. Kali isn't approaching once every Sunday. She's approaching even while you sleep. When you wake up Tuesday, she might just be standing at your bedside. Some people claim that you'll drop dead if you pray too much, and I say fuck 'em - they don't know shit. If you start to get the shakes, then just eat more flesh and do some drugs, and then you're good. You'd have to be high as shit to be even close to dropping dead from praying too much - that's just an excuse from lazy people. (2/2)

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...and these dumbasses often tell me that they have special psalms that they need to get them motivated, but me, I just need to listen, because my goddess is like Zalgo: She's in the very walls! Even in complete silence you can hear Her approaching footsteps!

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Thoughts were like screaming demons in my head, but the pain I subjected myself to today, screams even louder. I can't hear my thoughts anymore, and thus I can rest. Sanity is overrated. Don't try to rationalize it. Just suffer through it.



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The doctor is in. What seems to be troubling you today? Tell us your daily physical aches. No ache is too small or insignificant.

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My left arm hurts. I don't think it's just the wound, but the flesh underneath. I tore it a bit.

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Got a massive side stitch yesterday. They say that it's harmless organ pressure, but something that hurts that bad just can't be healthy. Can't decide if I should eat or sleep right now.

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I think I have pus in my butt. It sucks.

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>>190 There's lots of cure for pus butt, you baby. Just take some salmon, put some turmeric on it, and it'll suck it right up.

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>>191 Thank you. It seems to have helped, at least a bit.



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A strong pain in my abdomen has stirred me from my slumber, and with its voice sharp and clear in my head, it is time to make this sermon, considering the topic in /global/, of autism versus social bonding. Human civilization has prided itself on achieving together what one man can not achieve alone. With cooperation and coordination hunting and gathering boomed, and with industrialization in the 19th century, this coordination has become a necessity of life. However, with it came the concept of society, where mankind was encouraged to also trust and befriend eachother. ...and this social game is nothing by a pyramid scheme that only works in theory - a scheme which will delude the weak ones covering in the dark that they are stronger together. As long as everybody is honest in a social group, everybody will be very informed. However, for that to happen, you need trust, and trust can be broken all too easily. All it takes is some tongue work from a single member of a social group, and deceptive misinformation and seductive lies, will spread like wildfire, ten times as fast as accurate information. As long as everybody covers eachother's needs in a social group, everybody is meant to be better off. However, this assumes that everybody can know and accurately tend to eachother's needs down to one's emotional wellbeing, and that nobody takes advantage of, or socially engineers other people.

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Society could work only because of it rejecting antisocial people. However, with human rights springing up in the 19th and 20th century, it was made law to also include psychopaths, traitors and exploiters into it, and after that society quickly fell apart. Lies, deceit and exploitation, is now more common than honesty and loyalty, and the only winners are the psychopaths who can game the trust of the social masses. A "friend" is a very, very poor investment. ...but there is another way than psychopathy, to be selfish: Self-reliability. If you learn how to seek out truth for yourself, not from social groups, but from objective sources, then you will find the truth. If you learn to tend to your own needs, then you will be able to take care of yourself much better than any "friend" ever can. Sheep are weak. Lonewolves are stronger. ...and they don't even need to eat the sheep to remain strong.

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Often the social groups maintain their social bonds through social gatherings, when the friendliest appearances will grant psychopaths the opportunity to seduce the masses. Whoever smiles the most will be the biggest shark out looking for a meal. They're only safe gatherings, if everyone is perfectly honest and altruistic, which - as we've seen with communism - doesn't really work. Often "entertainment" will be a theme to gather around, like movies, or games. I'll say this again: Entertainment is nothing but selfdelusion and a waste of time. If you are dedicated to taking care of your body and wellbeing in a proper manner, then you do not have time for entertainment. Thus concludes this sermon. Pain be with you, always.



4You



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No matter how hard society tries to escape realism, the nature of reality is its persistence. The flesh still bleeds when it's pierced, no matter how pretty and magnificent you believe yourself to be, and no matter how taboo you think it is to express or even think of. We still need to learn about the nature of pain, in order to be able to survive the real world. No matter how deeply you stare into the distractions on your computer screen, or how strong your faith in law enforcement is, pain will always find you sooner or later. Pain is obscene. It is sexist. It can be denied through delusions, and banned from conversation, but it will always get its way one way or another. Pain is the one true faith, and you will do well to abide by it.

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All intelligent life fear death, and for good reason. Self-preservation is alone a measure of intelligence. ...yet one coping mechanism against this dread that has emerged in civilization, is myths about an afterlife - that we do not really suffer a final death, but that the human mind persist and live on. This very dangerous lie is what suckers people into seeing suicide as an optional way out, instead of as the ultimate selfdestruction and defeat. YouTuber Etika didn't fear death. Now he's rotting in a morgue somewhere. He humiliated himself before the world. He deceived people. He pushed all him friends away. He painted himself into a corner. He ended up lonely, ashamed, shunned, and with a severe mental disability one way or another. ...but he still wasn't dead. He was alive. He still had his life, and a life is a miracle in itself. He could have lived on for maybe 80 more years if he played his cards right, far, far past the years where people even remembered him. They could have been a thousand things that he could have found and experienced to make his life worth living. ...but instead he chose to kill himself, whether it was out of utter idiocy or insane mania. He is a corpse now. He's dead, forever unconscious, and in a state of slow decay. Soon worms will be feasting on his flesh, until all is eaten, far underground, until he is finally completely devoured by his single most biggest mistake. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ocRoVd-ZENA

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Be quick if you want to save his final words from the linked mirror. YouTube has already taken down the original video.



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There's a sting as the tip pierces the skin, and a searing sensation as the blade is driven down, further and further into the thigh. When it's done, the tip has poked through the skin underneath, the knife buried up to the hilt, the blade firmly embedded right through the aching muscle. A second blade is driven in, and the pain is doubly amplified, enough to make the goddess appear in a red-hazed vision. It has been understood: Large nails are to be driven through the hands in final crucifixion. A knife to cleave the putrid heart. Death will finally come to the hollow one. "Why have you forsaken me, mother?!", a final panicked whimper calls out into the void.

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A trust is betrayed, and foolish prey is devoured, the reasoning of the cannibals being that apex predators will not be counted as cattle, and that evil is safety. ...but as your flesh becomes tender and ready, your feet begin to stumble and your speech becomes slurred, and you find yourself surrounded by cannibals on all sides. How long will you stay on top in the meat grinder, I wonder. It won't be long now. They are sharpening their utensils, and jumping in, eager to replace you. The predator of today, will become the prey of tomorrow. Such is the fate of every mortal thing. Salvation can only be found in /pain/.



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I think I've passed the point where I can still appear human many months ago. I think people know, when they look at me, that I don't fit into reality - pic related. I mean, if I really concentrate, I can roleplay as a human for about five minutes, but unless they're people I know, I just won't even bother. My worry is that I'll end up looking so unreal that people will start fleeing me when they see me and stuff - that I'll end up in the news as "that weird girl". I'm right now going through a power surge and my saliva has gained healing properties and is tasting strange - who knows what's next? I want to be normal, but I also want to be me. My head is all foggy and every time I close my eyes don't I don't know how much time will pass. I wish we had some kind of community for unreal people. You know: Succubi, demons, angels, what have you. I want to hang out with you guys, and just feel... ...normal, you know?

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Psychopaths have this "mask of sanity" that they put on, but I think such a mask is dishonest, and so I don't bother training for it. When humans look at humans, they see people: Little inner worlds and conceptions based on their own humanity. I just see humans. You are animals to me. Little inferior flesh creatures trapped in space and time. You look so puny. So frail. So dumb. I think I've begun to have problems seeing depth. There's a slight sense of reality sort of separating into several existences at once. My urine is thick like syrup, and just as dark, but the water in the bowl is a light blue, like chlorine. Every third day the skin on my face is burning. This is just the beginning. Time is going bye-bye now.

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>>152 > Little inferior flesh creatures trapped in space and time. You look so puny. So frail. So dumb. Not too different from yourself, huh?

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>>153 It is true that I too pilot a flesh creature, but there's a difference between me and my vehicle. My host mostly died years ago. Occationally some old neurons will start firing about, but he's as good as dead.

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>>155 I'm not young, though.



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Itt: we cray a river. Let it all out. Show me on the doll where he hurt you..

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This would be a great exercise, but I don't think I'm ready yet. Maybe someday I'll bring myself to do this. I hope you'll be there to laugh at me then - to really rub it in and humiliate me until the last trace of pain has scorched me all the way through.



100 GET



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Thread was moved to Off Topic

Goto beach Sit down, look up See this Wat do¿

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>>77 Checked

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Id rather see something like this tbh

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Contributin

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Is it just me, or are girls getting hotter every year?



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Dubs thread

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>>44 Ben Shapiro here Check em, then deleteet this

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>>47 >delete this This isn't cuckchan m8

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>>44 >>47 >>48 >Samefagging, and even making the thread off-topic to begin with. It's like a self-contained story, with a beginning, middle and end, but that all takes part in a flashback, since the opening scene is the protagonist's death. This is the Citizen Kane of Enrive.