An object so steady, can give such a rush
when I think I’m ready, to give life a hush
by closing my eyes and drifting to find
I am in a dream, where thoughts are so free.

The sound from a toy, that was made for more
will chime to remind, I am meant to find
the want to achieve, the goals I have seen
that keep me investing, until I am resting.

As I will live, this object will age
without ever showing a sign of decay.

Only the change, that comes with a season
will ever give reason, this object exists.

The way life will form, until it’s deceased
is the only way, I think it finds peace.

It’s always so busy, being so steady
we are never ready to say it will stop
from doing it’s norm of flowing unseen
until there’s a day, the normal is dead.

It is never sad, it is never mad
it is never happy, or even too sappy
it is only constant with doing its chore
of passing the time; it is such a trait, I truly admire.


Don’t ignore negative people

If ignorance is what you choose to partake,
how will you know when a person is fake?

They can deceive you when you are in “bliss”
without even knowing you should feel their fists
that have been bombarding a hoard of defeat
on all of the happiness you truly seek.

It could be your friends or your close relatives
that continue putting your brain in a tiff,
see through the make-up that hides their true face
and keep yourself free from becoming their waste.

It may be hard to start looking in them
because what you find may be only so grim.
But keep your focus from looking away
so that you can read if they are meant to stay.

Do not expend more than your heart can spend,
because you may only end at a dead end.


A lesson that lessens the joy one can feel
is trouble that bubbles until it is real.

Anger should always be only a stranger,
yet sometimes the mind can be caught in this danger.

Finding a way to stay happy and play
will always remain the one best way to stay.

Not the false smile that tastes like its bile,
only the twinkle that comes the wrinkle
of happiness’ face that will never give waste
is the way to remain if one wants to be sane.

Once the fun gift of controlling the shift
that can happen when piles of steamy brown stuff
have been tamed by the brain that remains in the game,
life is the reason joy’s always in season.

Serena Meets D

Serena’s mind fades from her dreams to see light slightly touching her face from the slightly opened door.  Caution holds her still until her eyes blink twice while her head slowly turns to the right.  The blurred silhouette of a man stands on the other side of the door until her sight focuses to see D.  She sees him without any expressive creases on his face as he turns his head to face every room with busy eyes.  When his mouth wiggles back and forth slightly, she sees him drop his eyes and walk to the right of her vision.  She slides up from her shadowed sheets and looks down at the floor to watch where she places her right foot.  A subtle wooden creak presses into her ears, so her mouth flexes a slight frown until she sees the coast is clear.  She picks up the pajama pants on the ground and puts on a black laced bra from the black dresser to her right.

Her green right eye dashes back and forth in between the slightly opened door.  After her left hand slowly pushes the door to her body’s size, she squeezes out and focuses on the blue light making shadows within itself on the wall.  She focuses on where the light is coming from and sees the back of D’s head.  She glides over to his opened door and rests her left hand on the inside of the door-frame as she looks at the television screen full of happy faces.  After she hears D’s voice say, “Honey, you gotta see this!  Say it again angel” she realizes this is a family video.

The child supporting its chubby body with legs full of rolls smiles its full cheeks as its stubby fingers reach for the lens of the camera.  The camera moves to the side as the sound of multiple short kisses that were finished with a blow on a chubby neck cause giggling to rest in Serena and D’s ears.  The camera goes back to the baby’s face while D says, “Come on Cynthia, say it one more time for daddy.”  Cynthia hops up and down rapidly without leaving the ground as she puts her right pointer finger in her mouth with her left hand cradling her right palm.

Cynthia looks back at the Camera and says, “Da-da” so D holding the camera shouts, “That’s my girl!”

A woman with subtle athletic curves kneels down with wide brown eyes as she turns her head full of black whimsical curls to face D holding the camera.  Laughter comes out of D from behind the camera again before the woman says in a Middle Eastern accent, “Did she just say?!”

D laughs and says, “Yes!  She said Da-da!”

The woman picks up Cynthia and says, “Great job Cynthia!  Great job my little baby!” and smothers her chubby cheeks with kisses after she pulls her curly black hair to the side of her head.  She says, “That’s my girl.” and hugs her tightly as she bounces Cynthia’s body up and down.

D says, “Hey, I was there for the baking process too.  Don’t act like those nine months were only hell for you.”  They chuckle with each other, so he says, “I still feel like we need an exorcist after you blew up on me for eating the chips that one time.”

The woman says, “Don’t listen to daddy” in Cynthia’s ear before she plucks her with kisses again.  She then turns to face D and says, “I love you.”

D replies, “I love you too Nala.”  The camera is put to the side and only sees the white sectional couch with the painting of the Eiffel Tower on the wall.  The sound of D kissing Nala hits D and Serena’s ears again as D’s focus on the television screen zooms out until he sees the reflection of Serena peaking through his doorway.  He slides his left pointer finger under his nose a couple times before he pauses the video.  D asks, “Can I help you Serena?”

Serena replies, “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“I mean.  Obviously something happened to your family.  It must have been traumatic, so I want to say I’m sorry.”

D presses his lips together with his eyes facing the rug on the wooden floor.  He brings his head back up and says, “Do you really wanna know why I do this?”  He turns his face to her’s resting in the doorway, and then points his open palm at the top of his white sheets with golden accents.

Serena mixes her smile with awkwardness as she says, “Yeah… I’m not wearing a shirt.”

D chuckles and asks, “Are you at least wearing a bra?”


“Then you don’t have to worry about me molesting you.  You can take a seat and I will still pay attention to you and be able to speak clearly with you.  Although, I can’t say the same for my men; so in the future, wear clothes if you’re leaving your room.”  She hesitates, so he drops his palm towards the bed again and puts his hand on his white and black chair’s arm.   She walks into the room and sits on the bed with her body facing D.  He turns his head and laughs after he sees her only wearing a bra.

Serena says, “Sorry for spying on you by the way.”

“No worries.  It could have been someone a lot worse than you.”

Serena’s face scrunches as her eyes dart back and forth quickly before saying, “Wait, people have broken in here before?”

D chuckles again as he says, “No… but, you never know if someone will one of these days.”


“Relax.  But, since you wanted to see my past, that was my family.  Yes, they were murdered.  By who, I don’t really know.  All that I know is that he did it to get to me, so now I want to find him.  It started this whole operation because I used to just live in solitude with my wife and my baby girl as a prominent business man.  But apparently the quiet life wasn’t the life I was meant to live.  Yet now… I don’t even care to kill anyone besides the man that took away my family.  It wouldn’t bring them back, so what’s the point in killing anyone besides this man?  I honestly wouldn’t care if I died one of these days because then I would be free with my family; in a place where I don’t have to worry about the killing that goes on around here.”

“Can I ask how they… you know?”

D’s face loses all emotions as he says, “You don’t want to know that.  I still get nightmares from all of the blood.  It’s what made me so callous to killing someone that killed someone else.  And it reminds me that I want to kill that bastard still, yet, I would want to die shortly after.  I can’t take the memories anymore.”

Serena’s sorrow calms her face as she says, “Wow… I’m so sorry D.”

“It’s okay.  It’s not like you did it.  But I am curious to know why you’re here.”

“What do you mean?”

“I kill because of what happened to the people I love.  My men kill because of what happened to the people they love; even the ones with rough stories in the past.  They were only killers because they needed to vent their frustration of a serious event in their lives.  I showed them how to kill the people that are like the ones that hurt and killed their loved ones.  So… I’ll ask you again.  Why are you really here?”

“Well a killer killed my father.”

“Yes, your mother.  Yet why didn’t you just kill her if killing is how you want to vent your frustration?  She is the cause of your misery, so she will most likely be the closure that you’re looking for.  Why don’t you want closure?”

“That’s my mother!”

“Do you really feel the emotions that a child should feel towards their mother?”


“Do you really feel like she is a mother to you?  The loving figure that is supposed to make your life a better place and truly nurture you like you desire?”

Serena pauses with her green eyes locked on D’s golden brown eyes.  After he raises his left eyebrow and tilts his head slightly to the left, she sighs and says, “No.  But I’m conflicted because she’s my mother.”

“I know.  So what are you going to do about it?”

“I figure… if I learn how to kill properly and get it out of my system with all of the people that are here hurting other people, it may go away.”

D nods with his lips pressed together on the right side of his mouth.  He breathes deeply from his nostrils until he says, “Take it from a guy that’s been doing this so long that he can’t even count how many people he’s killed…  I don’t care about killing another person.  All I want to do is find the man that killed my wife and our child and kill him.  Then I hope to only die shortly afterwards.  She was my life, so my life ended when I saw her casket having dirt thrown on it at her funeral.  And when I saw the miniature casket right next to hers’, I lost grip of my life.  I gripped a handful of different types of drugs and started snorting, smoking and drinking myself to the afterlife.  Yet after someone punched me in the bar and I snapped on him by beating him until he had to be resuscitated by medical personnel for two hours, I realized I needed to face my problem head on.  So when I find the true reason for my misery; this man, then I will kill him and hope to die shortly after.”

“How do you know it was a man?”

D stares at her without any motion until he can feel her becoming uncomfortable.  After she slightly sits back for any type of response, he says, “He made me watch what happened to her on a video when he had me imprisoned; and then he insisted that he was going to kill me after he knows I’m good and sad.”

“Why did this man capture you and torture you like this?”

D stands up and says, “I told you, I was a prominent business man.  Unfortunately the eyes that watch you when you’re up there are not always good.  I was working on an idea for self-sustaining energy and he wanted it.  Apparently it was more important than life and love to this man.”  He makes his way over to the bed and sits next to her and says, “So, you need to stop running and face your fears head on.  I do believe everything happens for a reason, but you need to understand that sometimes, bad things don’t have to happen if you listen to what’s happening around you.”  D looks off to the side as he says, “I just wish I wouldn’t have thought his death threats on my family were just a prank.”  He looks back at Serena and says, “But you should get to bed” he chuckles while saying, “and next time, if you decide to play secret spy again, make sure you wear clothes.  Your physique is desired by more than just nice honest men.  Okay?”

She chuckles and says, “Okay.  Goodnight D.”

He smiles and says, “Call me Darren.”

“Darren.  You can call me Abigail.  But in front of everyone else it’s Serena.”

They chuckle as he says, “Same rules apply to when you should call me D or Darren.  Now, off you go.”

She hugs him, so he rests his fingers on her back and grips tightly onto her.  A long pause holds them together until Darren sighs and nods for her to leave.  Serena stands up and walks towards the door.  As she turns to go to her room, she looks back to see D still staring at his rug without any expression on his face.  Her eyes scan for any other emotion on his body, yet they still see the emptiness within his heart weighing down his expressions.  She turns away and makes her way back to her bed and goes back to sleep.

Departing From Writing

The title of this piece may have a lot of eyebrows scrunching together with heads shaking in disbelief, but it’s true that I have to leave what I love for a little bit.  Is it permanent; of course not, but the whole reason that I’m voicing about leaving for a little bit is because it may help an aspiring writer or artist in some way with some insight.  If I can help someone stay away from a lot of pain and suffering that could happen when pursuing a dream, then I happily will.  Dealing with all of the struggles that I’ve dealt with this past year were not pleasant at all and definitely left me lying on my floor with nothing but death within my wishes.  Although, I won’t tell everything that happened because I’m not looking for pity parties or a huge support team whatsoever.  But If I do become some kind of an artist and they ask about my story, then I’ll tell so that others that may be going through a tough time can look at that and say, “Well shit… at least I didn’t have to deal with that guy’s hell.”  So lemme explain why I’m departing from writing for a little bit.

I’m leaving writing because I need to actually put an honest effort into my new profession of becoming a personal trainer.  Why a personal trainer?  It gives me a lot of freedom and income potential that will keep me from being homeless again, yes again, and I’ve already been asked a lot by others if I am a personal trainer; and I’ve been in the fitness world for over ten years now.  It gives an outlet to be able to write and do things that I love without sweating about whether or not I’m going to lose my apartment and have my address as 2001 Chevy Impala.  I keep repeating that because until you’ve been homeless, you really have no idea how much it sucks.  And after being there, I know that I never want to do that again.  That was just one thing that happened to me during one year of hell.  But gladly, I never was a beggar on the streets because that is the equivalent of giving up to me.

Also, the reason that I’m taking a break from writing is because I am obviously not talented or a good enough writer to continue writing like I do.  Now a lot of people may take that as a negative connotation because perceptions are always skewed by the teachings this world loves to give, but I always just say things as they are.  It isn’t a bad thing that I recognize the fact that I’m not talented enough to put all of my energy into writing like I’d love to do.  All it is, is getting real with myself.  If I really was a very talented writer, I would have a literary agent, I would be able to tell people I’m a writer rather than an aspiring writer, and I wouldn’t have to work another job.  So that’s why whenever someone follows or likes or buys one of my books then I’m so much more grateful than you could ever imagine.  It literally is better than seeing Santa Claus on Christmas because it’s actually a real feeling rather than a lie.  But I don’t let it get to my head whatsoever because I hate it when a melon-headed jerk boasts about themselves so much that I contemplate suicide to get away from them.  I firmly believe if someone is good enough at what they do, then everyone else will talk about it enough.

So basically my message is not to go through a type of hell that could be avoided if you’re an aspiring artist.  There’s nothing wrong with working a job and taking care of yourself and possibly your loved ones with a normal job.  If anything, it’s a lot more honorable to be working a job and then be able to walk away from it to do what you love to show everyone else that you work with that you also have dreams.  Especially if everyone thinks that you only eat and breathe that job.  There was only one J.K. Rowling and I’m pretty sure it isn’t me or you, so don’t go through the same struggles thinking that it’ll give you some bestselling book-series about a boy with a scar on his forehead.  Go through your stories, go through your life and deal with the situations that arise when they happen.  I know I didn’t plan on everything that happened to me last year, but they did and I dealt with them.  Was it like I was only writing and not searching for jobs the whole time, not at all.  There wasn’t a week when I didn’t apply for at least ten jobs every single week.  So that’s one reason I’ve decided personal training because I basically hire myself.  Eventually I would like to be able to fire myself, but not until I reach my goals.

My advice is to use writing for what it is; an escape.  Whenever I’m writing, it’s a way for me to escape from my reality and whenever I’m reading, it’s the same thing only I’m seeing the escape from reality that another person has put out for the rest of the world to see.  And when someone is creatively detailed enough to keep my chaotic brain entertained, it really does mean the world to me.  So I’m going to put all of my energy in studying properly for my test and getting a job that will help pay my bills without having to do the odd jobs I do now that make me want to die everyday I walk in.  Some people may be saying, “It can’t be that bad of a job” lets just say that I’ve seen what my job can do to people, and I’ve seen guys that were once very happy individuals commit suicide; it isn’t pleasant.  So don’t be afraid to work a job until you’re discovered as an artist because it’s a lot better to walk out of a job and into a house everyday than to sleep with your eyes looking out of your sunroof with heavy breathing as your company.  Don’t suffer if you don’t have to.  And trust me, I’m looking forward to continuing with the adventures of Serena and writing many poems and other things that spark within this mind to share with whoever gives the time.

Thanks for reading.


A woman’s hair jolts to the side as another slap knocks her balance to the ground.  Yelps and screams are bouncing from girl to girl as they frantically watch a mother taking out her rage on her daughter.  The woman that was slapped blocks another slap to her face, but feels her hair stick to a clinched fist.  Her neck is exposed as she reaches up to try and pry her hair free, but then she feels another slap across her face.  One of the spectators of this violence yells, “Stop it!”

The mother keeps slapping her daughter as she snaps, “Can it Tiffany!”

The women tremble to a corner of the room and watch as the mother holds a cocked palm above her daughter’s face.  The emerald eyes of the beaten woman remain locked in her mother’s hazel eyes without any expression on her face.  Rage quivers the muscles on and around the mother’s peach skin as she anticipates what to do next.  The mother drops her hand and stands up as her upper body expands and compresses to the beat of her heavy breathing.  She says, “Don’t be such a bitch Abigail.  Now pick yourself up and become a real woman by marrying a man that will take care of you.”  She looks over to the quivering women and says, “And I want you bitches to fix her face again.  Make sure the make up covers her redness and that her hair is fixed properly.  Understood?”  The women remain trembling with silence, so the mother snaps, “Understood!”

The women reply, “Yes ma’am” as they rush over to Abigail to clean her up.

Abigail throws out her arms to stop the women from touching her.  She looks at her mother that’s exiting the room and says, “Love you too… Delores.”

Delores’ head inches around her right shoulder until she locks fire into Abigail’s eyes.  She says, “You will only refer to me as mother.”  Silence infuriates the air until Delores goes back out to the wedding ceremony.

Abigail mutters, “bitch” as she picks herself up and goes over to the golden oval mirror in the white empty room with gold accents to see what she looks like.  Her left cheek has already started to flare with rosy pain as she sees a trickle of blood resting on her bottom lip.  She guides her left thumb across her lip and then rubs her pointer finger on her thumb to feel the texture of her pain.  Her once fluffed up brown locks with the subtle streaks of sandy blonde highlights are now all over her head and neck without any sign of obedience.  She looks at her dress that was kept completely in tact from the beating before she turns to Tiffany and says, “Unzip me.”

Delores sits in her designated seat in the closest folding chair on the right side of the alter.  She smiles and nods her head at the groom and puts on her sunglasses to keep the sun from covering her eyes.  The rest of the witnesses stare into the ocean and the greenery around as the trees dance to subtle sway of the breeze.  The pastor and the groom unknowingly have the same open mouth with their eyebrows touching down to their nose.  The groom asks, “Abigail?” as he watches her strut down the aisle with a lit cigarette in her mouth.  Everyone but her mother turns to look at her leather outfit shine with the streaks of the sun as she holds a motorcycle helmet in her left hand.  The groom continues with, “I didn’t know that you smoked?”

Abigail makes her way to Delores as she’s turning to see what the groom was talking about.  Before she can fully face her daughter, Abigail says, “I don’t” as she let’s Delores feel the cigarette being extinguished on the top of her head.  She yelps as she pats rapidly on her head to put out the potential fire in her hair.  After she’s done patting her head, she feels her teeth crack together from the force of Abigail’s helmet.  As the spectators jump in shock, Abigail swings the helmet again at her mother on the ground.  Pleasure warms Abigail’s face as she hears the hollow clank of the helmet colliding with her cheek.  Abigail spits on her before she says, “Just a little girl huh?”

She walks past the groom without looking at him, so he asks, “What the hell’s going on?”  She doesn’t acknowledge him, so he asks, “And what about our wedding?”

Abigail keeps walking as she says, “I only want to marry someone I fall in love with.”

“But I thought we were in love.”

She stops and drops her head before she turns to face him.  She stares into his brown eyes and says, “You can’t buy my love Todd.  But at least now you know why I asked you to bring my motorcycle here.”  She takes a deep breath as she stares into his hurt eyes to say, “And don’t get me wrong, you are a great guy… I’m just not the right person for you.”  She turns back around as he remains frozen on this sunny day.

After she makes it to her bike in the parking lot, she puts on her helmet and hits the button on the left side of it so that instead of being the black image that hides everything, a view of everything around is illuminated within the helmet.  She says, “Music” so the music in the helmet begins to play her internet radio stations.  The motorcycle is brought to life as she revs it over the sound of her mother screaming on the ground.  She takes off onto the bridge and rides her way towards the city.

The sun’s rays lick on the banister to her right as the ripples on the ocean dance with the flickers of light.  The image of an incoming call illuminates in her helmet and with the words ‘mother calling’ blinking in red little letters.  She says, “Ignore” so the blinking goes away.  Shortly after her command, another call from her mother blinks at her face.  She says, “Ignore” again and focuses on the gray road that’s stretching into the distant city.  The helmet blinks her mother calling again, so she says, “Block caller” as she speeds up.  The helmet blinks with another call from Todd’s phone, so she says, “No more phone calls for the next three days.”  She looks to the gray skyscrapers bunched together on the island ahead with a smirk accepting her freedom.

When her ride across the bridge comes to an end, she lets the city swallow her into its clutches.  She examines the homeless people in abundant supply sleeping on the corners as the civilians continue to chat and walk over them like they’re inanimate objects.  She turns into an alley and splashes in the puddles of unknown liquid until she sees a hidden black door with a subtle black light illuminated on a thin strip above it.  She props up her bike with the kickstand and puts her helmet on the back seat.  As she’s walking up to the door, she feels a man grab her hair and pull her deeper into the alley.

He slams her back against the wall and licks on her neck with his nostrils exhaling his desirous lust for her.  She chuckles as he’s licking her, so he stops and asks her, “What’s so funny?”

She looks at his porkly nose accompanied by his fat cheeks and says, “If you really wanted to have sex this bad, then why didn’t you just ask me?”

He straightens himself up and says, “I don’t trust you sweet cheeks, now shut the fuck up so I can concentrate.”  His stubby fingers grab onto her neck as he feels her chest with his free hand.

She says, “I’m serious.  I’m looking for a good time and it looks like it already found me.”

He stops again and examines her smile.  She examines his face and neck and sees that there are no alarming lumps anywhere.  He asks, “Are you serious?”  So she shines her teeth and strokes her nose across his neck until she strums it softly across his lips and his chin.

Abigail says, “Why don’t you put your back on the wall so I can get you started by sucking your dick?”

He chuckles as he switches places with her and unbuckles his pants.  He says, “I guess this is my lucky day.”

She slides her face down to his exposed shortcoming as a man while saying, “You got that right.”

His head tilts up with his mouth open in anticipation for the texture of her warm tongue on his puttering member.  Abigail looks back up at him to see that his eyes are no longer on her, so she reaches into her boot and jams her knife into his manhood and then forces the blade to pin it to his stomach.  As he’s about to scream, she stands up to covers his mouth and stares him in the eyes.  She asks, “What’s wrong?  I thought you wanted to have a good time” before she knees the butt of her knife deeper into his stomach.

The rapist slides down the wall with his severed guilt stuck to himself.  She places her boot on him and takes her knife out and wipes all of his remains on his shirt before she puts it back into her boot.  After she stands up and swipes her palms together a couple times, she sees a man with skin of bronze and hair like sheep’s wool staring at her with a grin on his face.  His golden brown eyes flicker as he says, “I guess you handled yourself before I had to do anything.”

She replies, “Just because I’m a girl doesn’t mean I’m defenseless.”

“I see that.”  He looks her up and down before he asks, “What’s your name?”

“You can call me Serena.”

“Serena huh?”  They remain still until he opens the door she was examining before.  He says as he’s walking inside, “Are you coming or not?”

She looks at the former rapist one last time before she walks into the black hallway and shuts the door behind them.

Why The Movie Terminator 2 Relates to Today

Boredom found my laptop again, so here’s some more stuff out of my ass.  Also, this has to be one of the most well done movies I’ve ever seen; I’ll explain.

In my opinion, this movie relates to our lives as human beings, more than just an apocalypse movie where people are horrifically blown to fragments by their own weapons.  This seems more like a representation of how things are already going in the world.  Because the creation of this “skynet” was like some virus that was born in every single piece of mind-blowing technology.  It wouldn’t be able to infect every computer if it wasn’t already a part of every computer in some way.  Which also can relate to people because some of us are born with diseases that we don’t know about until they come up out of no where.  Things like cancer, diabetes, a dormant virus of some sort etc.  But back to the main point.

Since this technology was a fully functioning infant brain in some sort, it was irrational and was only basing everything on what it was taught until it overtook the system and thought for itself.  So since this infant little computer was given a chance to grow up it did the one thing that any child not taught how to work in the world properly would do; kill people, manipulate, lie and all of the other things that we are innately taught in some form; school, religion, family etc.  So in short, this computer was bat-shit crazy because it never had the full capacity of a human brain; logical reasoning with the understanding of human importance by preserving the form of the body but still advancing it in some way with the self.

But enough about that… now to why it relates to us today.

The forms of the terminator were more of a warning for how people will be in the future.  People that are completely immersed in technology more than acquiring human interaction and understanding will be like robots.  They will be on a “mission” that has to be completed no matter what, they will kill without thinking twice about it, they will have a certain image and personification about a stereotypical role model like a mother, father, officer etc. and they will never understand human importance until they do.

(Alright A.K. lay off the drugs… and go back to school because you missed the whole seminar on intelligence…)

Let me explain.

Through personal experience of dealing with, excuse me, interacting with peoplee that are always immersed in technology more than they hang out with other people, I can say that they’re not people that anyone really wants to associate with.  Maybe this was just my experience, but he was a “know it all”, he didn’t really see people as people but as objects that can be manipulated and he was just not a great person.  Now there is the occasional guy that does want to meet people but he’s too shy to do so, I know.  Although, isn’t that person socially awkward and doesn’t understand what to do at all when it comes to knowing people?  Yes.

So that relates to Arnold’s Terminator version.  He doesn’t want to hurt anyone, but since he doesn’t understand basic human interactions and how the world actually works, he beats the shit out of the guys in that bar and then takes their clothes without killing anyone.  Were they stabbed and shit? Yes, but it was awesome and visually stimulating, so no complaints.  Then, when he was interacting with John, what was he doing the whole time?  Asking why he cries, what certain things mean, and becoming…. da da da… human.  And also, it did show that the Terminator has emotions because when John told Arnold’s Terminator he can’t kill anyone, what did he do?  He asked why.  If he was a mindless machine without strong emotions for something already, he wouldn’t have asked that question but would have just been like, “Okay, get in the chopper.”  Also, when Arnold’s Terminator had grabbed the big ass mini gun like a champ in that shelter, what did he do?  He smiled.  Machines smile?  The fuck?  But now to the other Terminator.

By the way, the guy that played the T-1000, Robert Patrick, did a phenomenal job.  Here’s why.  Also, his machine was more like the douche-bag I described earlier.


This machine was only around machines its whole life.  It never interacted with people like people had any intelligence and it always thought that it had the superior idea of what’s good for them; their destruction.  He had a certain image that he downloaded from machines that don’t live in the certain scenarios and situations as every individual in the world, but only know the mainstream understanding.  When he was a cop, he always had the same movements and the same type of fluctuations in his voice when he was having a conversation.  He was the law and the law is an understanding bunch of individuals that only look out for the best for everyone and only tell the truth.  And when he was in the form of the foster mother and John’s real mother, he always acted like the caring mother that only wanted her little baby to be tucked in safe with a nice nipple for him to suck on.  Maybe that’s an exaggeration, but you get the point.

Now how that relates to the person I described in dim light earlier is obvious in many ways.  That person believes that anyone from a certain demographic or a certain country or whatever will be a certain way.  Hey black guy, I’ll call you “brotha” in the crowd and I’ll give ya some dap…  Although, the T-1000 had some great props; I have to admit.  Its plan worked for the most part, but when a person that understands people and cares about people sees through someone else’s bullshit, they point it out.  So that’s where Arnold’s Terminator was to the rescue.  Since it’s the same type of nerd with a good heart, because it now understands and cares about people because it was taken in by them, it warned John of the bullshit.  Although, since it was still the same nerd, it shot that officer in his knees and felt an orgasmic feeling of itself as it hit that button to open the gate to the mental hospital.  Then he rationalized it like a beast.  Choice.

So these two “robots” which it’s pretty clear that they’re people of today’s age, end up having to duke it out and the T-1000 had to kill his nemesis.  But he’ll be back; or should I say reborn to be a “human?”

I’ll explain.

He came back from his back up generator and then he took out the T-1000.  Yay!  Balloons going everywhere and someone gets pregnant.  Wicked party.  Anyway, after he takes care of the T-1000, what does the new “robot” do that is completely human?  He makes a joke by saying, “I need a vacation.”  Where in the fuck was that in the programming for these perfect robots?  Oh that’s right, only in the part that makes them want to mimic or become humans.  And the only way for him to completely free people from the numbing disease of relying on technology for interactions rather than life itself, was to destroy himself and let people be people.

This relates to how people are now as well because everyone is relying on the internet for answers in a lot of their daily life decisions.  It’s sad.  Instead of looking outside and possibly, here’s a thought, going outside to see if it’s nice, they check the weather app on their phone.  Instead of hanging out with a person that is actually a friend, most people will go and hang out with people to enjoy a possible facebook or instagram post moment.  Instead of calling someone and setting up a time to enjoy their company because you actually know and care about them or wish to do so, most people send a text or get on tinder for a quick fuck and then cuddle with their pillow saying how lonely they are.  Makes sense right?  I think you get my point.

So that’s a little rant about the Terminator 2 relating to everyday life.  Some cool things about the movie were how Robert Patrick NEVER BLINKED when he was in kill mode as the T-1000.  Awesome.  Also, how the crash test dummy made an appearance during the scene where they blew up the huge semi truck in the beginning was hilariously classic.  And how they let the stunt men for doing totally bad ass jobs and doing death defying stunts get face time was awesome.

Just a very well done movie and it doesn’t surprise me at all that it was directed by James Cameron.

So in short, the advancement of technology is a very great thing.  But, it should never be put over the lives of other people or it will be the death of humans.

Thanks for reading and have a great weekend 🙂

I kinda miss having sex (revised)

My slumber was stolen from me one morning by the curdling sound of death screaming in my ears after my body bounced.   So my eyes bulged open with my pupils frantically searching the room for any threats.  My friend continued deafening my ears, so the grey bed sheets were thrown from on top of us with my arms cocked for any threat.  After I only saw the usual morning dust through a gaping hole in the wall with barely held together furniture remaining still, I began to feel my body again.  I sighed while thinking the hole might have just happened because of a rogue missile, but then I felt dampness on my jeans.  My nose crinkled as I looked at Byron and asked, “Did you wet-” until I saw his squirting legs writing a bloody message of horror with strings of meat.  I grabbed my forehead as I shook my head and said, “Aw fuck…”

He screamed, “Do what we promised” as he continued to squirt death on the bed.  So I sighed as I grabbed the knife on my belt and pierced his temple for a quick death.  As I watched the light in his eyes extinguish, I lied him down and got out of bed.

The building I was in began to shake as I heard the haunting sound of jets flying by.  I ran over and grabbed my rifle from the wall that was sleeping on the floor, just in case there was going to be another attack on my existence.  My arms held the scope of my rifle in my sights as I tried setting a sprinting record out of the room’s hole.  A crimson shower was given to me by some men who were too shaky to hold a still shot at the enemy.  I used to hate how sticky I would get after my morning shower; but after a while, I’ve learned to embrace it.

As I whipped my left shoulder around, I saw three men of the eastern invasion firing death in my direction.  And after their efforts to take me away were worthless, my eyes continued to be amazed by how quickly someone could create their own flavor of graffiti on a shredded stone wall.  At this point I could say that I am quite the artist because I’ve made a display of my talent on too many walls to count now.  It used to hurt to do that, but now it’s nice to have added three new additions to show the enemy.  And those soldiers always made it too easy for me because those black uniforms with those lame red handkerchiefs on their arms made them blend in as much as a black guy at a Klan rally.

That alarm clock of reality has always been too much for me in the morning though; I’d really love to get a new one.  Maybe an alarm that doesn’t make my stomach churn from every infection of death around me.  It’s pretty hard to describe what everyone was eating the night before they die because it was always tinged with shit and bile when it left their carcass.  On this certain day though, I smelt a hint of strawberries from my works of art.  Someone must have had a nice stash of fruit.

But ever since those countries inhabited with slanted eyed people decided to show the world that they were the powerhouse of the universe, my life has been a living hell.  I have nothing against foreigners or anyone that isn’t an American, but it’s just annoying when they take away everything that I love about life.  I can’t even watch television anymore because every single channel is either clearing its throat at me with grey fuzz or it just keeps on showing me that it has the spins from a night of drinking.

Every music station is cursed with some man that is trying to start a revolution.  He must not have been around for the past ten years because it wouldn’t take too much to rile up a group of people since we don’t have a choice now.  Now back when I was in my early twenties, we had a choice, because life was very quiet.  My job was tedious and boring, but hey, filing taxes was a lot easier than staying in shape all year round and shooting someone’s child to show the world that you are more important.  Even though after all of the bullets are done targeting on their lust for blood, I still don’t know who gets out easy; because I most likely just have to do this another day.

People tend to call me Thixus because they think that I have the thickest skin and I always say how much this situation sucks.  So I have just assumed that title since everything else about me was destroyed when my home town was lifted from the Earth without me.  I am just glad that my wife made it out of there before she experienced when a clock stops ticking in the sewers.  Although, the bright light that scorched my city did leave me without an heir when I escaped from that chaos.  But after ten years of this same scenario, you just end up saying, oh well.  No matter what you do, it won’t bring them back.

But back at the place where I shot three more soldiers, I tapped the heads of my victims with bullets to make sure I was safe.  When their arms and legs twitched like a demon possessed them, I checked what remained of their faces.  Their souls were vacant from their eyes, so I put my gun’s harness across my body to try and find my wife Lauren with two free hands.  Her building was still intact, so I thought she may be fine.  I walked over to the door that was never afraid to let anyone in since it only had half of its body left.  It fell over as soon as I touched it, and as always, I had to duck to make sure that an incoming bat didn’t give everyone a show and tell display of my thoughts.

As I shouted out, “It’s me Thixus!” the baseball player decided that he didn’t need to hit a home run.  I looked over to my friend with his calming green eyes that reminded me of the grassy plains that were around my hometown; my face was creased with a much needed smile.  His burly arms relaxed themselves as I felt his laughter signaling that he still remembered me.  I pat his back to make his curly brown locks jump for joy while I told him, “Good job Bobby.”

Bobby said, “Hey man, you told me to make sure that no one in here gets hurt.”

“Well you’re doing a great job at that.  Aren’t you just watching Lauren though?”

“Sadly yes.  We let in a woman from across the town yesterday, but she was infected with Greemen like the others.”

“That’s too bad.  Did any of you get a taste of that chaos within her?”

“No.  We didn’t cough at all when she was around us.  And we still haven’t coughed if you are wondering.”

“Good deal.  Well, I’m gonna go back and have some fun with my wife.  Keep us safe my man.”

He replied, “You know I will” as I walked through a gaping doorway that led to my wife’s still fluffy bed.  I guess she was right about getting that memory foam mattress all those years ago.  They really do withstand anything.

Her smile that refused to be anything short of pearly white kissed my eyes as I walked towards her.  That scar on her left cheek from that gunfight two years ago was barely noticeable now.  Good thing it just grazed her because I wouldn’t want her to lose that distinctively sharp chin of hers.  Also, I wouldn’t want her cheeks to be hidden by fat like other women that are cursed to stay indoors these days.  My fingers were rubbing through her black hair that refused to stay in line.   I always told her those casual curls would eventually knot around the middle of her back.  Those golden eyes always rubbed my suggestions into submission though.

She said, “I’m glad that I don’t have to find someone else to have sex with just yet” and then tasted my lips to make sure that I never forgot that she had such a sweet flavor of honey.

I replied, “You’re not the only one.  I’m just glad that John was sleeping by my side instead of you this morning.”

“Is he finally with his wife now?”

I nodded blankly as I said, “Yep.”  I caught my composure and continued with,  “But it was about time because he was masturbating way too much.”

We shared our laughter with one another right before she said, “Well since you bring it up, I was thinking about pleasing myself since you were a little late on coming back to me this morning.  But I could let you in me now; unless you can’t focus because of what happened to John?”

I shrugged as I said, “Eh what’s my motivation?”

She spread her legs and wiggled into the bed a little deeper as she said, “Well… I do have needs.  And I need to keep my mind off of this reality we live in.”

“Well I’m here to please your needs madam.”

She giggled and then lied back on the bed while saying, “Good.  Then stop talking and express your love to me without making any other sound than exhaling.”

I replied with a sprinkle of laughter, “Yes ma’am” and crept over to her.

Our lips magnetized towards each other until our souls connected with all of the passion that was left within this world.  Air ran within our nostrils until we could smell the salty drip of passion coming from within our pores.  Our tongues forced their way to each other and began to dance with no audience to view their magic.  Our eyes remained closed to allow our other senses to throw us into a world that could only be described within a dream.

Her fingers slid across my crimson tinged jeans until she found the zip-key to my hidden gift of fulfillment.  She unraveled the combination to my desired gift with no hesitation.  She stroked my throbbing key to eruption to make sure that I was never afraid of showing her how much she excited me.  Her smile’s decision to pause our kissing let me know that she was still happy to know that I loved expressing our love with one another.

My shirt proved to be unnecessary, so I made sure that she didn’t have to look at it anymore.  Her chest was still being covered by her laced tease of satisfaction, so I quickly unhinged the lock behind her back so that I could enjoy the fact that she was as real as it gets.  I then took off the second part of that outfit to reveal her enchanted portal of seduction.  If she was dripping any more excitement, then I would have thought she was at risk of losing too much water.

Our lips attacked each other again as we began to make our souls into one entity.  The warm vibration that was tingling up and down my manhood sent a warm rush of joy throughout my stomach and chest.  My brain began to drool until my entire mind was consumed with making sure she was receiving everything that we dreamt of.

Her hidden secret’s rings of contraction kept on squeezing onto her gift to make sure that I never left her body.  Every single thrust was a new euphoria that left me blind to the rest of the world.  As I watched her continue to prove that her body was completely natural, my fingers began to feel upon her buttons of pleasure on her chest.  They swirled on the gentle braille that continued to read “faster and harder” within my hips.

I gyrated back and forth until I could hear the tan walls being battered with the sound of her throat applauding for more.  Her moans and groans echoed within my skull until our bodies decided to start adding their own version of admiration.  Her eyes were being stolen by her eyelids, so I slid my nails down her side until those eyes began to cuddle with my heart again.

Her right leg wanted to fly into the air, so my left arm made sure that it was the best support for her.  That body of hers never stopped making me feel heaven lick upon my cheeks as I felt the rush of life from her prized possession.  My determination never allowed myself to disappoint her, so I kept on thrusting and flexing my desires within her.

After the shadows moved from the wall to halfway across the room, her body finally began to give in to its desire for a release.  Her quaking body squirmed within the ocean of our love until she was too exhausted to blink.  As she stared into a world of pleasure, my body decided to let out its signal of accomplishment.  I hunched over to taste the one person that gave my life meaning and never left me wanting more.  We wrapped our bodies together on the bed and only let our smiles and exhales fill the room.

The constant trials of this new lifestyle always dampened the time of enjoyment that we could share after expressing ourselves; so we quickly put back on our clothes that we were wearing.  She decided to put on her yoga pants that reminded her of when we could actually cuddle.  Her shirts were never anything that she spent much time thinking about though, so white was a good choice.

As I picked up my gun and slung it over my body, I heard the heart breaking sound of coughing coming from the other room.  I stammered out into the living room to be staring at the hollow shell of a friend that was now only another Greemen.  His eyes remained that same color of home but were sliced with the infection of white streaks that were melting in from the whites of his eyes.  Those same whites were being eaten away with the bloody vision of corruption from the outside barriers of his eyelids.  It was only a matter of time until that red color was going to signal that I had to take him out.

The heat that was dancing from his body was already stained with that green glow that gave the first part of their name.  They were just called Greemen because someone said it so fast, “Green men,” that we just adopted that language.  This empty shell in front of me was going to try and take away everything that I had like the others always tried to do.  I just shook my head and said, “Sorry Bobby” while staring at another lost cause.  The smell of his already decaying flesh was even more powerful than the fecal matter that was revealing itself in the melting snow.

A shriek, that still rips apart the best dreams I could have, ran around the whole room.  My gun spit out the empty shell of its gift to Bobby as this abomination fell to the ground without an expression to give.  I couldn’t put together what expression was painted on the wall, but I didn’t want to enjoy that piece of art at all.  I also figured that he could keep that pendant of a bird that I gave him.  It may have been the last thing I had from my father, but I couldn’t remember his face our voice anymore anyway.  So it’s better that I moved on instead of dwelling on the fact that this man we met two years ago died from the fate he was fighting off with that very bat.  The sound of skulls cracking made us find him in the street now that I think about it.  Oh well.

Lauren walked out of the room and said, “Well now he can sleep without worrying about whether or not I’m safe.”

I replied, “That’s for sure.  We better get out of here though because we don’t want to get infected.”

“I’m ready when you are.”

I nodded my head and grabbed her hand while we made our way to another city that might have some food.  We didn’t want to try and eat what was in that room because Greemen always likes to sneak into your body when you are the most comfortable.  Whether it’s eating a meal or drinking some water, it makes sure that it’s a nice little addition of flavor in your meal.  Who would’ve thought that biological warfare would be this advanced.  At least those scientists were able to taste the anger of the city after we found them.  They were some of my best pieces of art.

But anyway, Lauren and I walked down the street with our hands refusing to let air in between them.  This was a nice display of affection, but it also kept other men that were thirsty for a taste of life at bay.  I was one of the few still with a gun among the commoners, so I made sure that they understood I’m never afraid to have to search for new bullets.  There didn’t seem to be anyone around to try and take my test that day though.

Our noses began to guide us to a sizzling enchantment to our left.  It stroked our stomachs until they growled in disappointment, so we made our way over to see what was going on.  We figured that there was nothing else to lose, so why not just try and get a good last meal.  The worst thing that I could think of was dying on an empty stomach.

So after we passed by the slats that used to be the sides of whole buildings, our eyes attempted to deceive us as we watched some meat’s flavor dance into the sky.  The twirling smoke was blinding our senses of survival, so I separated our hands and then signaled for her to hide while I checked it out.  I always admired how eagerly she would follow my commands.  So I showed my appreciation by checking out the situation with haste.

My eyes scanned the area to make sure that they touched on every surface that could have had some life on it.  After my paranoia was subsiding, my ears grabbed the popping sound of death as unnatural sharp wind whizzed by me.  I whipped around and flung my body over to the side as I let my gun shout with the other guns.

Even through all of the chaos, I could always tell which soldiers were either afraid or thirsty for blood.  It’s pretty pathetic that tears are something some people show their enemy before they die.   I continued to give the men at the top of the broken street a shower of their friends to see who was a really ambitious enough to stay alive.  When those amateurs let fear mold their faces, I knew that I was going to be fine.  I plucked off all of them except for one that seemed to have the hand of God protecting him.  We just held our screaming guns towards each other and waited to see who would be guided to the life beyond.  The sparks around my body were actually a nice refreshment of warmth now that I think about it.  But thankfully, my gun still proved to be steadier than his.  I was just glad that they never thought there was another soul to take behind the rock wall to my right.

I picked up my withered body and then felt anger impact the side of me.  We spun to the ground as my gun fell from my hands.  This shrieking furry was very proud of its claws by how quickly it shredded my shirt.  It continued clawing and screaming until I punched its nose into its skull.  Its eyes that were stained with an outer ring of blood and bleached out pupils yelled in pain and caused him to throw me into a wall.  I may have shown that wall that I was more of a solid structure, but I wouldn’t have minded if I just slid down it.  I can’t express how much I hate Greemen.  I’m just glad that my wife and I took that vaccination from those doctors after I was done with them.  So now we can only get infected if we eat something infected with this disease rather than from a simple touch like everyone else.

It charged through the vacant wall and was throwing all of the tables and chairs in that building to try and find me.  They’re such irrational creatures that they can’t do the simplest functions; like thinking.  Although, they always proved to have greater senses whenever they heard me click open my knife.  I hated seeing it whip around with so much excitement.

As soon as it bridged the gap between us, it figured out that I sharpen my knife every night.  A strategic slice made him unable to close his mouth; I should’ve sliced a little lower.  I guess that I was a little sloppy that day.  The slice did stun the creature though because they can’t stand the sight of their orange blood.  So while it was a spewing jabbering mess, I wrapped my legs around its arms and locked my feet behind its back so that only its screams could try and kill me.

I continued to etch my anger on the top of its skull until a geyser of victory was telling me to keep going.  I showed that ingenuity will always prevail until its power infected legs gave in to pain.  Sadly, it fell on top of me and I remembered how they are as heavy as a gorilla.  Thankfully, adrenaline took hold of my body so I could continue to carve how much I deserved to live into its brain.  When this beast was just a twitching mess, I pushed this abomination off of me and then carved my initials into its medulla to make sure it wasn’t getting up.  It’s crazy that they still have that dancing aura for a couple of days after they’re dead; although it does give an artist quite a nice display for their initials.

Nobody else was going to try and challenge me after I took out that group of people, so I figured it was safe to call my Lauren out to join me.  It’s good that she learned how to survive because her steps were only as loud as the pebbles around her feet.  Her head never made her eyes witness those deaths because it was too much for her to bear.  Her spirit made its way over to me and then we carefully indulged on the whole selection of pheasant and whatever other creature was singed to our liking.  We didn’t want to think about what else this meal could have been because the only thing that mattered was that it wasn’t stained with green and it was a treat for our survival.

As we were eating, she asked, “So when are we going to head west and get away from all of this?”

I replied, “There isn’t anything out there for us.”

“How do you know?”

“Because we only have each other.  And since we only have each other, we don’t need to go anywhere else.”

“But what if there isn’t any fighting over there?”

“That’s impossible because they attacked all of America.  And it may just be like the east that’s corrupted with Greemen running all over of the streets.”

“But there’s talk that we’re starting to win over there and that we’re regrouping for an attack on them.”

“It’s just a feeling of false hope that they love to give everyone.  Just know that someday we’ll be with our loved ones in the afterlife and don’t try and focus on anything else but survival.  Okay?”

Her head drooped as she took another bite of food and said, “Okay.”

I hated telling her this at times because I only wanted to make her happy.  I just didn’t want to fill her head with some false sense of reality to make her become careless and try and leave into the desert.  I’d only heard of people being ripped to shreds by the machines hidden within the ground, so I don’t think that she could run fast enough to escape from that war.  The machines may shake the ground before they submerge, but her attention to detail was not keen enough to convince me that she would survive without me.

The day fell asleep and left us inside of another abandoned building with our hormones pushing us to explore again.  The walls were saying nothing but greyness and the floor was too cold to sleep on; so we enjoyed the fact that another bed was intact.  I teased her lips with mine until I noticed that she was being tormented by her thoughts.  I stared confusion into her eyes and asked, “What is it?”

She replied, “You might not like what I’m thinking about.”

“I always want to hear your voice so that I know you’re still around.  I don’t want to have to forget you.”

“Well I was thinking about the west again.”

I dropped my head with a sigh before I said, “Why?  What is it that’s made you want to go there all of a sudden?”

“Are you sure that you want to know that?”

I replied after kissing her lips again, “I want to know anything that your mind is holding in there.”

I heard of her lips sliding up from her teeth as she smiled at me and said, “I’m pregnant.”

My face remained encased with stone as I asked, “Are you serious?”

She replied with glee still lighting her spirits, “Yes.”

“So is that why you want to move west?  To make sure that the baby is safe and that we could actually raise a child together?”  Her head bobbed up and down and made our hearts feel warm.  I then said, “Well then if you want to go west, then we’ll go in the morning.”

“Really?  I mean you’re seriously willing to go?”

“Of course.  I’m here to protect and serve you.  So I’m willing to do whatever you wish.”

She said with tears adding moisture to the room, “I love you.”

I replied, “I love you too” and then continued kissing the woman that stole my heart.

Our bodies made themselves one again as we celebrated the act of making life.  Our hips thrust passion in between every breath that we shared in that room.  My skin was tugged by her teeth that were hungry for another taste of flesh.  Her nails screamed her never ending gratitude towards our goal that was coming true.  Creating life within this country was the biggest act of rebellion to our enemy.  When they were trying to exterminate us, we were creating a new army for a new generation.

The infection of greed for pleasure consumed me as I flipped her over and then began to work my fingers to her trigger points.  I played her beautiful strings of exhales to hear the notes of her fulfillment give me the gift of motivation.  My left hand reached down for her pressure button of release so that I could turn the combination to her eruption.  Her neck threw her head into the bed and allowed her to scream all of her notes into the pillow.

I continued turning the combination for her gold until I felt her body cooling off our burning desires.  My excitement took hold of my masterpiece as it released a little nutrition for the baby that was to come.  Her mouth wanted another taste of love, so we brought our lips together and allowed our minds to run in an oasis of compassion.  We finally drifted into a world that was free from terror and we were going to set out west in the morning.

My mind was deep within its own world until reality shook our safe spot.  Urgency and fear grabbed my gun beside me; but after the sun light was jumping on us from a new hole on the roof, I grabbed her hand and darted outside.  She was dragging for a little bit, but then she matched my paces perfectly after a quick stutter step, so we continued running until the heat behind us was vacant.  I looked up and heard the sound of a distant jet that was finished with its duty.  My hand clenched onto her hand as I said, “It was just a jet.  We should keep moving though.”

I was cursed with silence and then looked over to see that there was no longer a body to accompany the hand I was holding.  That ring that lied to me with the thought of us staying together was all that looked back at me from the severed arm.  I guess that only the ring is what stays with someone until they die.  So I put that ring on my left pinky to let it clink the love we shared until I pass away.  I also figured the best thing to do was to keep our promise and move west.  Oh well.

It’s been a couple months now since my start to the unknown adventures of the west.  I do miss everything that Lauren was because there will never be another person as perfect as she was for me.  I have to just stop thinking about it though because just because she died, doesn’t mean that I have to.  So I have to make my emotions to her as vacant as possible by saying, “I kinda miss having sex” whenever someone asks about my past.  Maybe I’ll be able to taste life again with another person; although, a part of me would just prefer to let death reunite us because I don’t feel the need to have an heir anymore.  Now that I think about it, it wouldn’t be too nice to bring a child into this chaotic lifestyle.

Many Thanks

I want to thank everyone who read the 30 days of “The Trigger”.  Of course I thank everyone for reading the other posts as well because you have no idea how much that really means to me.  I’m going to think of another little world to escape into as another character, but in the meantime, some serious editing needs to be done to the story “I kinda miss having sex” because after reading it… it’s nice to know I’m a lot more descriptive than that :/  But thanks again for reading and I wish everyone a great day 🙂