I read this on another forum a few days ago...

[kári]

As a senior undergrad in Finance, I sometimes ask myself why I chose this particular profession. Even now, I’m not sure if I’m merely projecting some sort of romantic idealization to the whole idea. Anyway, I guess the reason I chose Finance (or why Finance chose me) is because the very experience of life can be represented by stock charts and graphs. Like companies, some can go through exponential growth and reach potentials never foreseen, while others may never again be as great as they once were. The joys and tragedies of life plastered, mathematically brilliantly but perhaps without soul, onto two-dimensional representations for metaphorical scrupulosity. But at any moment as a point on the line of life, one cannot be sure of the future. Even with past failures, that one point always looks up. The notion that “tomorrow will be a better day” is a fight, a struggle against that constant pressure to succeed. You can call it market gravity or life itself, but I see it as a condition of the soul.

So on to my story. It all began when I was a sophomore in computer engineering at one of America’s finest universities. The year prior I did not live up to expectations and was ever so close to academic probation. But there were others doing worse than I, right? Well, like every naïve, or should I say stubborn, student I thought I could pick it up that year. At first, it was going swell. Things clicked and I was firing on all cylinders. I was even enrolled in an intermediate French course without the appropriate prerequisites. Every compliment further bolstered my new sense of self. “Your accent is excellent,” says the French instructor. I tried to remain humble, but as the room turned its eyes to the one kid who didn’t know a lick of French vernacular, I couldn’t help but crack a smile. I vividly remember a short essay assignment, a typical assessment of putting together what you learned that week into something a 4th grade kid in France could have shat out. Unlike oral assessments, I couldn’t bullshit my way through this one (you can’t really roll your r’s on paper). For hours on end it was a fruitless endeavor. Pencils scratching endlessly, erasers smudging continuously. I was starting to feel a sense of desperation. “I can’t do this.” Then it hit me, I’ll just write a poem.

A week later I went to see my academic advisor about my options. I just couldn’t handle computer engineering anymore. It was either continue trudging along this path or switch majors. But there was one caveat; I was no longer allowed to switch majors within the university itself. I felt worthless. The institution that was once so eager to invite me within its ranks, just as eager to kick me out. I ended up dropping most of my classes in favor of easier alternatives. The fucker even recommended I see a mental health counselor to sort out my difficulties. Later that day I ran into my French instructor to tell her I was dropping out. Her smile soon vanished and she said she was disappointed. At first, I thought she was giving the usual sympathy talk, but she had this folded piece of paper on top of the class materials she was carrying. At the end of our talks, she wished me the best of luck and handed me that very piece of paper. “So sad to see you go, I was hoping I could read more from you.” It was the poem I wrote a week prior.

After that year, I transferred to another university with a focus in business, particularly Finance. Relative to engineering, the curricula was much easier. Effort became a foreign word as I had more free time than I could ever imagine. Everyday life became a meaningless routine. I would wake up, commute to school, stare at the lifeless digital clocks, then commute back. Why the fuck was I alive? Thoughts of jumping in front of the northbound train drifted in and out. What the fuck am I even doing anymore? I was in this mindset for a good year, until it happened…

You know those bullshit Gen Ed courses every university has? Well I had to take them twice. Whatever the reasoning, I was enrolled in Beelzebub’s asshole, otherwise known as English 102. I walk in with the most indifferent face ever known the man. Sat down and just thought about my situation in life. I was surrounded by enthusiastic freshman straight out of high school who were oblivious to what was about to come. Consequently, the instructor explains the syllabus and the usual guidelines by which everyone must abide. Then it was time for class introductions, by process of a large inward facing circle. We were to give our name, major, and an interest that started with the same letter as our first name. I gave my name, said Finance, and couldn’t think of any interests so I blurted out tater tots! The room bursts in laughter all for except this one person sitting directly across from me. Naturally, my senses darted to the odd one out. Then all of a sudden, she looks directly in my eyes. It was that moment in time where our glances collided that I knew my life had some meaning.

It was the last day of class where we had to give our final presentations. I was to go last. I got it in my mind that it was my last chance to impress that one girl. I could not fail. When it was my time to step up to the podium, I was supremely confident. I began to speak when all of a sudden I caught her glance once again. Her green eyes froze me where I stood as if I was under a spell. It was a nightmare after that. I couldn’t regain my composure, stuttering with every syllable. I lost track of what I was presenting, literally standing there for periods of time not saying a word. What the fuck was wrong with me? After class ended, I felt like shit. Could not believe how bad I just fucked up. I lost my chance with her forever.

After class ended, I was sitting in my chair with my head down. I felt strangely alone, and then I looked up. It was her. Everyone had already left, but she was still in the room with me. I noticed she some audiophile class headphones with an amp coming from her iPod. “Neato,” I think to myself. But she probably doesn’t listen to the same stuff I do. “I lost my chance with her,” I repeat mentally. As she is about to leave and walks past me, I ask her what she’s listening to. What she responded with was something I did not expect. “Oh just some trance.” My heart fluttered as our musical tastes were in line. We chatted for the next 10 minutes, which led to coffee, which then led to something more.

We dated for the next year. I never got tired of listening to her. Every day, I would learn something new about her, every moment was cherished. Her green eyes, pale white complexion, dark flowing hair. It was all perfect. She was an anthropology major who had a heart for community service. Every weekend she would volunteer at a soup kitchen or a food drive. I would accompany her to those events. We would laugh and giggle through the day, ever so happy. Some say you’re in love when love songs start to make sense.

I recently traveled to Canada so I wouldn’t see her for 3 weeks. But with the technological marvels of today, we kept in touch. I came back to the states yesterday and we planned on going to a soup kitchen today. We decided to drive separately to our destination as it was in the middle of where we each lived. “Oh sweet, boy am I lucky,” as I found a parking spot right in front. Coincidentally, as I got out of my car, the love of my life got out of her car directly across the street. Her green eyes locked onto mine and her smile began to propagate. Then all of a sudden, the smile vanished.

I just came back home from the hospital and I can’t make out what the fuck just happened. Why the fuck did this have to happen to me. Why the fuck did this have to happen to her. THIS AIN’T FUCKING FAIR, WHO THE FUCK DECIDES THIS SHIT. Is life about random events? Random upswings and short falls like a financial instrument? The last time I caught her glance was when her bloody, mangled body was in my arms. I thought this only happened in movies, scenes this surreal. Her once green eyes, pale white complexion, dark flowing hair soon stained by the scarlet blood gushing out. She died that very moment. That northbound train never looked so tempting.

I teared up at the end. That is so sad. I've lost a very close friend over 2 years ago and reading that last paragraph it felt like it happened yesterday. I sent the OP a PM, explaining what I went through and if he ever wanted to talk about it, he could PM me. The thread was full of best wishes and stuff like that. Earlier today the OP replied to my message, and in the thread, that it's a short story he wrote, that he was trolling, just to see people's reactions. This is what he said:

To all those who liked my writing, thanks for the kind words.

To all those who didn't, feel free to leave your criticisms, no need to hide in IRC

If this thread hurt you in anyway (and I mean really hurt you as in you can't get bad memories out of your head now), then I fear this is what I feared most. I sincerely apologize as we all carry our own accrued luggage that slows us down; however, when we open it once in a while to see what's inside, we're reminded of why it was there in the first place.

If you're feeling butthurt and thinking "boy, this hsczx guy is an asshole," then I say..

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uldc1oXpMCE

Well I normally have a thick skin about stuff on the internet, but I consider this way more than a step too far. This is playing with people's deepest emotions, and I think shows an exceptionally big lack of compassion to laugh about stuff like this, and especially acting the way about it like he did.

What do you think?

[zxlkho]

Wow. What an asshole...

[jsem]

I thought it was real. That was a well crafted troll post. Skillfull.

I wouldn't do it, it could just remind people of horrors. It might have been a step too far. Still skillful.

[kári]

He calls himself a troll but I think this is not trolling anymore.

[Tripp]

Doesn't remind me of any personal experiences, so after reading the story he wrote, my reaction was "Oh, sucks for him."

Then after reading that it was a troll, my reaction was "olol, nice one"

Sure, the guy may be considered an asshole because he made people feel sympathy and sorrow for him, and it turnedd out he way lying. Big deal. It doesn't necessarily affect anyone, unless something similar happened to them in which case it could bring forth bad memories, but chances are it won't. In my opinion, people need to get over certain things - like making this guy out to be an asshole. It was a decent attempt at a troll, and It wasn't one to cause physical harm over anyone. Nothing to get your panties in a bunch over.

[kári]

Doesn't remind me of any personal experiences

Makes your post irrelevant to me.
If that guy ever loses someone close to him, he will feel shame for posting what he posted.

[Tripp]

I've lost many people close to me, maybe never in a way where they we're all mangled and bloody, but that doesn't mean I haven't felt sadness for a loss. Over the years, I've built up the ability to put things like death, loss and many other things which make people sad, behind me. Call me a heartless asshole, whatever, but I just feel people need to essentially "get over it"

[Sir GuitarCozmo]

Methinks that if something terrible happens to one you love, you won't be describing to other people about "dark flowing hair soon stained by the scarlet blood gushing out".  Nobody in their right mind would use those graphic of terms to describe something that happened to someone they love dearly.  When I read that, I got skeptical.

[kári]

I've lost many people close to me, maybe never in a way where they we're all mangled and bloody, but that doesn't mean I haven't felt sadness for a loss. Over the years, I've built up the ability to put things like death, loss and many other things which make people sad, behind me. Call me a heartless asshole, whatever, but I just feel people need to essentially "get over it"

I've never lost anyone mangled and bloody either. That's not the point. I wouldn't call you a heartless asshole. I don't know. Stuff like this is way too complicated.

[Tripp]

In my opinion, the guy just wanted some laughs. He probably got quite a few, hell, even I chuckled a little bit. I like I said, it was just a troll attempt, nothing to make out as complicated. Just ignore it, and let it pass.

[skydivingninja]

It was very well-written for the most part.  My only big critique would be that the last  paragraph, especially the stuff in caps, is kind of melodramatic.  I honestly thought he was trolling at first, and I was expecting to see something like "but then I found out I was the One and SWOOSH" at the very end, seeing as it started with stuff like computer science.

[Sigz]

If he's apologizing for hurting someone's feelings, how is he trolling?

[MykeHavoc]

I'm glad I skipped to the bottom of the post. What a waste.

[Ħ]

If he's apologizing for hurting someone's feelings, how is he trolling?

Yeah, pretty much this.

He was showcasing his artistic talent.  It was a dramatic heart-wrenching story.  Who cares if it was fictional?

[kári]

He's not showing off his writing abilities, he's proud that he's fooled some people.

If it was to show off his writing; then he could have done this:

"Hi, I just finished this short story and I want you guys to read it: *story*".

[ariich]

So he took a deceptive approach, but that doesn't make him a troll. He apologised for hurting feelings, but explained that it was a short story.

[kári]

Honestly, I wrote this story with the intention of trolling. I'm not exactly sure how I came up with such a twisted idea. Perhaps after watching Solaris and noting in a different thread that "a truly terrific post takes time to craft," I decided I had to write a tragedy. I would post, then log off for a day and see where it would end up. I wondered how my story would affect certain people. Hopeless romantics, like me, would probably tear up. Realists would call me a troll by pointing out the most minute details. Whatever the case, every reader has their own interpretation and life projection that makes the story their own.

While this story is fiction, there is some semblance of reality. I'm going to just leave it at that.

I do not know you and you do not know me. What you see are just streams of 0s and 1s traveling through space. Even if this story was true, would it change your reality? Maybe, maybe not.

If I didn't think this was somewhat wrong, then I wouldn't be trolling in the first place.

[robwebster]

He's not showing off his writing abilities, he's proud that he's fooled some people.

If it was to show off his writing; then he could have done this:

"Hi, I just finished this short story and I want you guys to read it: *story*".

Not to mention that a story can be heartbreaking even if it's written like arse, as long as you believe it's true. It's a very quick shortcut to someone's heartstrings. I could say my cat died and get nothing but sympathy. I could then say some teenagers garrotted it and horrify everyone in the audience. I've not told it well, I've just made it relatable 'cause you sort of know me. Even though you don't know me well enough to be aware that I don't even own a cat.

Ah well. Trolling is basically being a bell-end reinvented as a sport, and whichever way you slice it you're still being a bell-end - so for what it's worth, I'd have thought he was a bit of a dick either way. He does cross the line, here, though. And then keeps on going till he reaches the equator, 'cause hey, why not?

...What a bell-end.