Maybe we can talk about how a shit load of men fantasize about dying a peaceful and necessary death instead of wanting to live or having to live in reality?
Cuz fuck, that's so bleak.
this post was submitted on 15 Dec 2025
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Is that not normal?
You don't want to detonate the explosives while you're still dangling from the bridge pylon because the enemy army is advancing and there's not enough time to get away safely before they cross?
I think I'd actually like to stand on the bridge and gently play a tune on my flute to distract them long enough for the explosives to go off as they cautiously approach the center where I wait.
Nice, man. Charisma 100+
uhhh, charisma -100.
I know. I play the flute.
Listen, periods are not as glamorous as you’ve been led to believe.
Picture it, though: You're a bad man and you know that one good deed won't change that, even at the cost of your life - but maybe it's enough to regain your soul. The wound doesn't hurt any more and you know that's a sign the end is coming but for the first time in years you feel at peace. Individual snowflakes are settling on your skin like chilly kisses as your eyelids get heavy.
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Cause Allie this the one time men are allowed to get in touch with their feelings with no judgement. It's cinema to go out this way. Way better than dying behind the Arby's dumpster with your pants down. No one wants to die like that.
When you clock out in the snow, have a smoke or swig from a flask or have in your hand a well loved photo of a loved one. Also have no ID, make it a mystery. Go out like a true boss.
Kinda like the Somerton Man although he died having a cigarette on the beach, leaving behind a coded message and a possible illegitimate child.
The cinematographer in me is wondering how I would go about staging the scene without putting footprints in the snow.
Composite 2 shots maybe? You would have to be sure to map routes in and out of the scene and then make sure the action doesn't cross those routes.
Yeah. That's about the only way that I can figure it could be done optically. Or else just fix it in post.
From a visual standpoint I know it lacks realism if we have a man bleeding out against the bench with no footprints or disturbance to show how he got there. But visually it looks better. I'd also costume the man in very gray colours, with almost the only noticeable color being the pool of red slowly spreading. Frank Miller-ish.
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My friend owes a sketchy dude money, so he's been asked to "deliver a package" to another sketchy dude 4 hours away. I dont have kids or dependents, so my buddy asks me to help him out. Shit goes side ways and it becomes clear only one of us is gonna make it out alive. He's got a wife and kids, i just have student loans, so i take the gun and hold off the pissed of dudes while he makes a break for it. I take two hits to my right shoulder before giving them the slip. I know I'm not gonna make it to the hospital, so i make my way to the bench on the river walk nearby so that this can be the last thing i see before i die knowing i did at least one good deed.
That's what guys mean when they say that.
Then the craziest thing happened. A golden retriever walked up to me with a stick. He put it in my lap and I faded out in a blinding white light. I woke up with my arm bandaged in a brightly lit, but eerily silent room. I try to move my arm. "Shit." I reach over with my other arm and push the button to tilt up the powered gurney. "The fuck..." as I sit up and look more closely, my arm has actually been converted into a fully mechanical cyborg arm with what appears to be a modified belt fed StG 44 mounted to it and loosely wrapped in bandages. As I wince in pain, the door flies open. Two thugs dressed in black barge in holding a scruffy doctor by the collar. One points his pistol at me. "There's that motherf--" an eruption of gunfire occurs. I look to my left and there's a smoking hole in bed pillow behind me.
After the smoke clears all three men lay on the ground. I drag myself out of bed and kneel at the doctors side. He has a wound in his abdomen. "Your friend.. they have him.... And his family" he says with some effort. "Where?" I demand. He points to one of the slain thugs. A phone protruded from his hip pocket. I unlock it with his thumb print. GPS coordinates. I stand up, the sound of spent shells rolling on the ground and my new arm whirring. Looking at it, I know what I must do now. I pick up the ammo bag next to the bed and sling it over my shoulder and walk out the door.
Fucking bravo 👏 I wanna read the rest of this book.
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(っ˘̩╭╮˘̩)っ
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The lighting is wrong. Need either footlights like you would have on a flight of stairs or omnipresent lighting from an unknown source in the sky. 3/10 would not die here.
Bleed (out here) or (bleed out) here?
The seduction of the Noir.
Ooooh that's a good spot to die on.
The White Snow is a symbol of purity a Void of sin blood is the sacrifice for mankind a symbol as seen in the hit TV show Jesus Christ, this is a desire to sacrifice yourself for the sins of the world.
Mrs. R! I thought you had too much to mark before the end of the term! What are you doing schooling people online?
(/j)
I want to bleed out not on the bench, but just below it, my back propped up by the wood.
Oh fuck yeah that's prime real estate
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