Baby Gay Thoughts

When I open Tiktok, my FYP is so exclusively gay that by the time I exit the app, I have forgotten that there are straight individuals. I simply adore women, and my FYP makes it possible for me to do so.

Anyhow, I recently had a fascinating conversation with the voices in my head. My closeted gay self-harming activity was having sex with males. Never did I enjoy it as much as I do sex with ladies. I had a task to complete. I would lie down and let him take care of himself. I appreciated anyone who ejaculated 5 minutes within penetration, sometimes they apologised for the short-lived experience. While they were sorry, I was relieved. I would eagerly respond “yes” when they asked if I had an orgasm so they wouldn’t penetrate me again in an effort to satisfy me. I was going to pleasure myself as soon as I was alone. I also thought semen was quite filthy, so even though I’ve had an IUD for approximately five years, I still rushed to the bathroom to flush the fluid out of my vagina before taking a shower. Sometimes I would just let them use a condom and not bring up the IUD. I once puked when someone attempted to ejaculate in my mouth. I however genuinely enjoyed kissing and cuddling. 

During intercourse, my thoughts frequently wandered. Here are some thoughts I can recall:

• Perhaps if I squeeze my vagina he will finish quickly.
• What face is that?
• Let me moan a little so that I can look enthusiastic.
• Should I suggest doggy so he doesn’t look at my face?
• What is he doing? Should I stop him?

The males are not horrible in bed, contrary to what I had previously believed; penetration simply doesn’t work for me. Additionally, I never allow them to suck me off since the one time I did, the person was so aggressive that I felt irritated the next time I had to urinate.

Enjoy your week my dear reader and thank you for stopping by. You are appreciated.

I am not equipped to handle you in your current state

Sunday morning

Babe: “Hey, babe! Do you want to watch Spiderman tomorrow morning?”

Me: “Yes, I would love to. It will be a nice way to spend my last day on holiday before getting back to work”

Monday morning

I am awake by 7 am. I start preparing at a snail’s pace. The movie starts at 10 am so I should be out of the house by 9 am. I check on him via text and he responds confirming the date.

I make it to the mall in time. I carried Machiavelli’s The Prince so I could keep myself busy in case I got there before him. He showed up a few minutes after me so I was only able to read a few sentences which I would have to reread when I get back home because I notice that there is too much in my head and I feel sad yet I do not know why.

As soon as I see him, I smile then stand up to meet him halfway and hug him as he plants a little kiss on my lips. We walk to the counter to buy our tickets, hot dogs, popcorn and fizzy drinks. I notice that I did not carry my 3D glasses. I ask the cashier how much a pair costs. My babe tells me to hold up a bit because he might have carried two pairs of glasses. He checks his bag just to realize that he carried 0.

“Babe, will you also get me a pair?” He asks and I agree to get him a pair. I get my debit card and give it to the cashier. He charges my card, I key in my pin and take my card, the 3D glasses that I just bought and my receipt. I look at my receipt and I see the cashier has charged everything on my card, the tickets, food and glasses. At this point, my babe starts walking away from the counter and cancels the mobile money payment process that he had begun on his phone.

I follow babe and we sit as we wait for our movie to start in about 15 minutes. I notice that he is a lot more touchy and keeps telling me how much he loves me. He said more “I love you”s in 15 minutes than he ever has in a week (I have to make it clear that this is not hyperbole). My biggest concern right now is “why don’t I want to tell him that I love him back?” and is this normal to him given that I always tell him that I love him back???

After the movie, we go to his place to have lunch. He tries getting me naked but I am not into it so we settle for cuddling. He asks me to spend the night and I tell him that I can’t because I have to be in the office quite early the next day. Our food is delivered. We get out of bed, and he helps me dress up and recognises my depressed demeanour which I stupidly apologise for and was immediately disgusted with myself for doing it.

While having lunch, I ask him about traffic and what time would be great for me to go home if I did not want to deal with traffic. He mentions that 4 pm and 8 pm are the best times. I choose 8 pm because I generally prefer darkness. That was when he said, “I think you should leave right now because I am not equipped to handle you in your current state.”

I left indeed…..I left physically, mentally, emotionally, psychologically, spiritually and sexually.

It all went downhill after “sploosh! frothy loins”

Tinder might be a great way for me to talk to people other than the two constant friends I have in my life. I sign up and upload pictures of my beautiful face that I consider cool. I pay for a subscription because I am curious with regards to knowing who has swiped me right. They might just be my type of weird.

After a few days of swiping, I match with Michael. He does not have a picture of himself, but I did like the artwork that he used in place of his face.

The first thing he said to me was “From your taste in music, I can already tell that I will like you”. This intrigues me immediately because he is the second human I have met who knows the names Thomas Bergesen, Brian Tyler, Hans Zimmer, Soundcritters, Two Steps from Hell, Efisio Cross, Alan Silvestri, Steve Jablonsky etc. I am glad to have connected my Spotify to tinder.

We talk about music from the movies that we enjoy. He spoke about nostalgic ecstasy in reference to his listening to music that used to be his favourite at some point. I borrowed the phrase “nostalgic ecstasy” and renamed one of my playlists from “nostalgia” to “nostalgic ecstasy”. This is a list of songs that I listened to at some point in my life and drained the songs off all their neurotransmitters.

We chat about Christopher Nolan, reading, and writing. We talk about my blog Kyllan and Chebet, I share the link with him, he asks to be included in my adventures with Kyllan and Konan. I agree and draft a story that introduces Michael to the family.

He once called me “my fair maiden” and I stupidly responded to that with “sploosh! frothy loins”. At this point, he debates whether to be quaint and proper or unleash his wildest fantasies on me. He chose to go with the latter. It was at this point that I realised I had fucked up.

So, I did what I always do whenever I freak out. I deleted tinder and moved on with my life and made peace with speaking to only 3 people: my two friends and me.

A few days later, I get a comment on the blog post that introduced Michael to the family. The comment was of concern. He was afraid that he might have lost me and he included his email address where I could reach him.

I reached out via email and we exchanged numbers. The ensuing days included an exchange of messages that had me permanently horny and smiling. This dude whose face I had never seen was stirring up emotions in me that I had not felt in a very long time. He asked if he could invite me to go work in his offices on one of the days that I would be working from home. We had to cancel this because my country had elections around that time and we have a history of post-election violence. Safety was key.

A few days after the elections and everything looked peaceful, he had a free afternoon and asked if we could hang out. I tell him that I was working from a restaurant and that he can come to join me there and we can have coffee. I was not as excited about this as I thought I should be. After telling him to join me at the restaurant, he responds “I was thinking more of cuddles and watching movies at your place.”

My vagina has never dried up so fast. I responded with a single “NO”. I then proceeded to delete his number and do some research on him. Our lovely Michael is actually called Victor and he doesn’t look like the kind of dude I would be attracted to if only looks is what we were going for. I quickly deleted the blog post that introduced Michael to the family and deleted all our correspondence (emails and text messages). My mind went on overdrive. Did he think that I was going to allow a strange man into my bed, all over my space and touching my skin? What if he cuddles me to death? What if he is a petty thief? He could be a serial killer. He must be a whore to think that it was okay for him to suggest that. He probably has a lot of unprotected sex. Eww! I am disgusted just thinking about it.

He sent a message a few days later apologizing for thinking that it was okay to want to come to my house just like that. He also asked if our relationship was damaged beyond repair. I responded with a single “YES”. He then sent an essay which basically was another apology, him saying that it was a privilege knowing me, that he is mad at himself for spoiling things, that he respects me and that he will never bother me again. I didn’t respond to this one.

A few days later, he bothered me again while I was on my eighth tequila shot. I don’t remember what I said to him but he has never bothered me again. He’s since been successfully deleted from my life.

In retrospect, things went downhill after “sploosh! frothy loins”. I will not be saying that to men ever again.

Saved by a drugie

I am using drugie as a term to mean somebody that uses hard narcotics but is not an addict. Is there an official term for that? Comment if there is one.

High enough (on Absolut Vodka) that I am looking at my keyboard to make sure that I am typing the correct thing. I am a lot slower at typing than usual. I have also been confused by the fact that the font I am using has small caps “L” and caps “i” looking the same. I also just checked to make sure that I did not throw the cigarette filter/butt on my carpet. Yes, I am smoking in the house and spraying lavender air freshener afterwards because I cannot stand the smell of cigarettes when I am hangover (a condition I anticipate to have tomorrow). I am just glad that I can actually type. If this article is shit, I will delete it as soon as I wake up hoping that I will actually remember that I posted something. Hopefully, it wont become one of those posts where I delete everything midway and decide not to post (I do this a lot). I was once told that I exist in the wrong continent because of the things I write about and I think that statement affected me more than I would like to admit. Are there specific things I should aviod writing about because I am African? Currently listening to Gary Barlow’s Back For Good. This will be relevant at some point, I promise. Give me a moment to convert the song to mp3 so I can listen to it on loop using VLC player.

I got to go pee then will be back.

I am now back. Don’t you love the JLS harmonies?

My neighbour gave me something called crystals a few days ago. It was a very little portion mixed in my Tanquery gin. She gave me a quarter the crystals of what she had (she crashed them into powder first). She was very happy after taking it (about 45 minutes after taking it) and our two people party ended because she got horny and went to fuck my other neighbor, which I encouraged her to do because she asked to kiss me more that once. I said no even though I wanted to kiss her back. Not sure why I did that. She is attractive and we happen to like a lot of the same things. Food for thought, I guess.

I was talking to a religious practitioner yesterday. He told me about how most humans are okay with giving themselves to something that takes control of them. This is what I have been doing all week; drinking vodka and being in another world. Since he is a Christian pastor (I think. He is very rational compared to other religious people that I have interacted with), he specifically talked about church. He said to me that people in church give themselves to the pastor and to the worship team. I give myself to alcohol. My neighbor gives herself to crystals (I still do not know the chemical composition but I will let you know as soon as I figure that out). Do we all, every once in a while just want to give control of our lives to something other than ourselves be it religion, drugs, work etc (pick your poison)?

He (the religious practitioner) mentioned that I always excelled at being free which turned me into the villain of the family (he has known me since I was little. I have also always done what I want when I want and I avoid showing weakness as much as I can). I didn’t realize that this is what the world saw in me because I have not felt free or in control this past week. I called all my friends (5 of them) before deciding to do something drastic. I thought that if my life ended, I would be free of the suffering. I just have to stop existing and I would be okay. I ended up at my neighbour’s because I needed someone to talk to and all my friends were unavailable. Thought of ending my life but became a pussy when it got to actually doing it. I think I like living, even when I am at low points, I am happy that I still choose life :).

I am smoking again after three months of taking a break. The head rush feels different. I am not sure where my head is at. Work is perfect, I got into my dream school in London and I am getting along with most of my immediate family. So, what the fuck is wrong?

While talking to my neighbor, she hugged me and thanked me for randomly showing up at her house. She thought talking to me made her feel much better. It may sound stupid but if one person felt better because I was just there to listen, then maybe my existence is somewhat of use.

I am not getting as high as I would like to be but I guess it works for my typing. I also realise, this was my last resort because sometimes, I get a few comments that are actually uplifting. (I just looked at my ceiling and was staring right at my chandelier. If it broke, part of it would pass through my right eye and that would be a complication that I choose not to think about right now. I clearly am not courting death).

It’s been a while dear religion

Hey babes 😁😁

Hey hey. What’s with the creepy smile? What are you doing here? Thought I got rid of you. You are persistent. You alone or did you bring along some believers to convert me?

Your mama keeps sending me back to you. She seems to be unaware that you kicked me out of your life. Your daddy too. Since you started talking to him again, he’s been quite curious about my relationship with you.

Damn!! If I tell them that we are still together, I might have to constantly lie about what I do with my time on Sunday. This one, is going to be exhausting for me. If I tell them the truth, I will get disowned. We both know you are the stick up my parents’ asses. I could just stay away from them for a while. Not sure how this one will end. Fuck me…..

I would make them mind their own business but that is against everything that I teach them. You probably should just disappear and change your name. You will be fine.

Sigh. I got a decision to make. It has to involve never seeing you again. Go back tgo my parents and feed them whatever bullshit you usually do. Why do you keep feeding my mom ideas about how my tattoos will send me to hell?? You are an asshole.

Yes I am.

Lol!! I didn’t expect you to agree to that.

Why won’t you take me back? Your life is so much better without me, people might find out that I am actually unnecessary.

I hate to say it, but some people might actually need you. I know a few people whose lives got better after subscribing to you. Don’t sulk. It’s weird when you sulk.

Remember that time you gave up on life because I made you think God and not you is in control at a time when your prayers weren’t changing anything so you decided that you are being punished for your sins and you should suffer your punishment gracefully and lead a life of pain until God decided that you had paid your dues and can start enjoying life once again.

Like I said, you are a bloody twat.

You broke up with me and started glowing. I am a little jealous of all the control you have in your life. You are a now a goddess and you live like one. I don’t like that I have no influence over you. Please let me back in. We could start a cult, and you will be the God I peddle around.

Get the fuck out of here and go bother my parents and their toxic marriage that they stay in because you told them divorce will send them to hell.

You are a rude one.

A rant interrupted by Vivaldi

Vivaldi’s ‘The Four Seasons’ is breathtakingly beautiful to my ears today. I just can’t stop listening to it.  I am in heaven. I am not sure which is better between this and an orgasm. It is an ear orgasm…if such a thing exists at all. This man Antonio Lucio Vivaldi is indeed a gift to my existence. He was actually an ordained priest but gave up celebrating mass because of a chronic ailment that is believed to have been bronchial asthma. Despite this circumstance, he took his status as a secular priest seriously and even earned the reputation of a religious bigot. Oh my dear Antonio Vivaldi, my kindred spirit.

Well, I came here to write about something else, not as interesting as Vivaldi but seeing as my sexy hot therapist is unavailable, I will rant here instead.

I have been very introverted since I was young. However, I started realizing it only when I was in my late twenties. I am still in my late twenties and very much enjoying learning about myself. A lot has changed since I started figuring out what I am. I have lost most of my extroverted friends. I have gained a few new introverted friends. Most of my friendships that were based on parties, alcohol and commonly outdoor activities are all dead. My extroverted friends are actually very mad at me because they think I do not respect their time given that I have constantly declined their party invitations. I could feel the subtext in their WhatsApp statuses about how I disrespect their time because I say “NO” more often than “YES”.

Let’s just say that I got tired. I got tired of pretending that I enjoy these parties. I got tired of shallow conversations. I got tired of being called weird by a bunch of complacent people, I got tired of being told that I am too quiet, I got tired of being forced to get out of the house to do shit that I do care about, I got tired of having personality arguments with people who fucking think they are superior because they talk a lot, I got tired of people who think I secretly need company because I am always walking alone so they accompany me thinking they are doing me a favor, I got tired of my mother not accepting me for who I am (she would have preferred an extroverted kid), I got tired of people thinking that their plans are better than mine, I got tired of people thinking my “NO” is because I do not know what I want, I got tired of repeating myself to people who do not fucking listen, I got tired of being forced to talk to people at parties, I got tired of being forced to got to dance floor, I got tired of men hitting on me because they think I am mysterious, I got tired of listening to people who constantly care about what society thinks, I got tired of bible thumping idiots who see me as the devil because I am not fucking religious and don’t believe in whatever god they believe in, i got tired of people constantly talking to me when I have my earphones on, I got tired of people constantly telling me their problems, me finding a solution for them and them appreciating my listening and then proceeding to not follow my advice and when the same shit happens again, they come crying saying that they should have listened to me, I got fucking tired of people mistaking my niceness for stupidity, I got fucking tired of people mistaking my smiling for friendship, I GOT FUCKING TIRED.

You aren’t entitled to anyone’s help

Disclaimer: I am not a religious person at all but I grew up in a religious family.

There is this collection of people that possess the characteristics of poor, Christian and African. I am yet to meet a group of people more entitled than this bunch. Not all of them though, just most of them. It drives me mad just listening to them talk. This is a group of people that quite often over-spiritualize everything. God is not going to fucking earn money for you.

“Look at him and his five cars yet he cannot give me even one thousand shillings.”

“He could pay my daughter’s fees and not feel any effect.”

“He can’t even help his own people.”

“His judgement is coming. God will fight for us this battle.” (How arrogant can you be to say this. To imagine you are qualified to decide people’s fates.)

“Aliye juu, mngojee chini.” -This basically refers to grace to grass kind of situation- (You might wait for the rest of your life for this to happen)

I got news for you mate, YOU ARE NOT FUCKING ENTITLED TO THE RICH MAN’S MONEY. THE RICH MAN OWES YOU NOTHING AND NOTHING BAD WILL HAPPEN TO HIM JUST BECAUSE HE DID NOT HELP YOU. In fact, he will keep making a lot more money without the knowledge of your existence while you keep complaining. Nothing bad will happen to him.

That money is his to do with it what he pleases. All these people do, is prattle all day long about these rich assholes and their hearts of stone and while they prattle, the rich man is working to make more money. You have no fucking idea what he has done to get where he is but you are quick to talk shit without any evidence most of the time. After prattling all day about the rich privileged people that won’t help them, they pray that same prayer asking God for a breakthrough then say “God will take away.” I got news for you dumbo, GOD ALREADY FUCKING MADE A WAY. You got a brain and working limbs. Get off your ass. I like to think that God has more on his plate than to worry about which hardworking humans with working brains and limbs will earn their deserved money so they can go and use some of it as handouts to lazy humans with working brains and limbs who spend the day bitching about the same people giving them handouts.

People will help you because they want to. If it’s not in God’s plan for this person to help you, you will never get that help however much you talk shit and quietly hope that God will punish them. You will talk shit all you want but never get that help. Here’s is an idea, USE YOUR HANDS, LEGS AND BRAIN AND GO GET A FUCKING JOB. Ask the rich man for a job instead of money, use that talent you know you have, plough that piece of land. Righteousness and poverty are not the same things and wealth do not signify a lack of righteousness. Heaven isn’t for poor people. Hell isn’t for rich people. Your wealth has nothing to do with where you end up if an afterlife exists at all.

You get angry when someone refuses to help. Why? You are not entitled to that help. Move on to the next person until you get the help you need. Most of the time, you don’t even need help. Stop fucking feeling sorry for yourself. The sooner you make yourself acquainted with life’s fuckedupedness, the quicker it will be for you to get off your lazy sorry ass and do what needs to be done to make your life as comfortable as you can with or without the help of that rich person that you quietly resent.

Strangers

I love strangers. Strangers are just peculiar people, very very very strange homo-sapiens. Some of them look like very aggressive and violent criminals with scars on their faces and biceps and triceps made of solid iron with bloodshot eyes in the entire universe probably because they are sick and their situation has nothing to do with illegal drugs and these rabbit-like ears that make you just want to peg them on a hanging line with the biggest lips that Jay-z has nothing on them yet they are the most non-aggressive and non-violent criminals. They are good criminals. They will politely ask to rob you and when you do not agree to that, they will walk away and wish you a very nice day. They use words like please, excuse me, I am sorry. “Excuse me miss. I am so sorry that I have to do this but I would like to relieve you off most of your money. If you would please, I will now show you this very empty gun of mine so that you can feel just a little bit frightened with the whole situation and take me a little bit more seriously. Sorry for my bad behavior. Can I walk you home so this does not happen to you twice?”
Others look like bank managers or presidents or congressmen but they are actually real thugs. They drive the best cars and live the most lavish lives buy they are the worst. They will take advantage of anyone that has a salary and they will tell you how taking a loan will be good for you. The idea becomes so seductive that you forget how repulsive it is to live in debt.

Others poke your butt randomly because they are perverts. “I am really bored today. What to do. What to do. This lunch break is so boring. Where is Stacey the hot secretary? She and I had a really good time during the office Christmas party. Oh, there she is. I will charge towards her with my middle finger and make sure it lands right in the middle of her squishy right butt. I say her right butt because her left one is surprisingly really hard. I had to put my legs in a certain position while performing coitus because continuously ramming into her left butt was causing bruises on my lovely thighs.” Who does not enjoy the company of a good old pervert? There is just something I admire about perverts. I do not know what exactly it is. The ability to add sexual innuendo to the most innocent of things is quite genius, don’t you think?

Others eat female genitalia like vegetables because they think female genitalia is vegetables. “Vegetables are good for you,” mom said. Oh mum, I now see what you meant when I was little. I bet all those boyfriends of-of yours –eeew why the fuck am I even thinking about this, this is disgusting, I am such a loser, I might never have sex ever again. Shit. Oh No, I need my therapist. How will I recover from this? I cannot get this picture out of my freaking head.

Others are fat because they eat a lot of piglets and walk too little. If they walk too much, they will definitely die a horrible death [DEATH FROM WALKING]. Fat is somehow (I fail to see how) an insulting word but who cares(I know I fucking don’t). Why is it even an insulting word? Can someone explain this to me? Babies are fat little things though (I fear babies though, they usually look cute but a fucking manipulators and when they start crying, I never know what to do but yell louder than them. This trick has always shut up wee bastards), and if you have a thin baby, take her to the hospital because something is definitely wrong. Nobody likes a thin baby. In fact, when I become president, all mothers with thin babies will be arrested.

Others have sexually transmitted diseases because they are just proud whores or they had carnal relations with a whore. I would love to meet one that went mad because of syphilis. Man, sex isn’t really a joke and these STDs do not mess at all. If I was an STD and you were a whore, I would become immune to all the drugs you receive and make sure that you are always itching thus improving my living conditions. You would never be able to go out in public because your hands will always be consoling your private parts. The good part of this story is that I am not a fucking STD. Let us cheers to that with a bottle of whiskey and then drink ourselves silly and probably wake up in a ditch somewhere without our clothes and afterward get arrested for indecent exposure. I was arrested once and I made some really good prostitute friends while in the jail cell. The point is, Do not mess with me, I was once in prison. Talking about good people getting STDs from whores, the whole situation is a tad bit unfortunate. There is really no way to tell if someone is a whore. Is it possible to be a whore and be a lady at the same time? Are there ratchet people that are not whores. I really do not care though. Be a lady whore, I do not give a shit.

Others have boobs because they are fat men. I will stop there.

Others have boobs because they are women. All women have boobs though so this is redundant.

Others have boobs and balls because they were once men but now are men with boobs and estrogen instead of testosterone (If I touched or suckled a nipple or two nipples or three nipples, will the penis obey and rise up to the occasion till it reaches a perpendicular position? Mmh, this is exciting. I have got to try this out).

Others are stupid because it just runs in the family and is not their fault. Never blame someone for being stupid until you see their whole family lineage. For all we know, it could be their ancestors’ fault.

Others talk a lot because they have big mouths. You could stuff three billiard balls in their mouths and there would still be plenty of space. Imagine the gag reflex that comes with that mouth. I am sure you agree with me if you got a long big dick. (I hope my mother never gets to read this book. I am currently disappointing her. I can feel it in my fingers and my bones. I hear her voice calling me a loser. –Yes, I hear voices and I enjoy sometimes. I wrote this book thanks to a voice in my head, his name is Tweedles. This book is definitely a tribute to Tweedles.)

Others do plastic surgery so they can have Jay-Z’s lips. I have no comment on this.

Others have fingers that smell like fish because they spend most of their time in the female genitalia. Seriously, they are professional fingerers. It is quite a lucrative business. I wonder what they are usually looking for and if they ever find it. Most of their clients usually have rings lost up in there and some have bangles lost in there (if you are into fisting and that kind of shebang). Someone once lost a condom up there and I know who it is.

Others get tattoos and piercings because they are into sadomasochism. “Physical pain is the shit”, she said, “I love the pain”, she said. She then started laughing maniacally and said, “Hiding real pain.”

Others become doctors because they like to insert needles into and cut people. They
just like to pierce and cut people. It is the closest thing to becoming a human butcher. Well, doctors are the best. What would we do without them and all their god-complex? “I am a doctor. I am the closest thing to god. I could be a god. Without me, you will die.” Well, I am not mocking, only quoting an unnamed source and 80% of that statement is true. We neither need honesty nor humility. Be a dick, you have every right to be, after all, you are next to god. Work hard, become good at what you do, boast about it, be a dick about, nobody will like you but they will always kiss your ass because you can perform miracles.

Others like to interrupt people because they are Kanye West.

Others are pregnant because they had unprotected sex and then there was a union of male and female gametes and after nine months, a little crying, naked person without any teeth are pulled out of the lower part of the female reproductive tract. It is quite disgusting I reckon. I have never done it but I cannot imagine my vagina
opening that wide, wide enough for my head to fit in.

If I had the Infinity Stones

….vanquish Thanos the mad Titan and then….

1. Disempower evil.

2. Build autonomous benevolent systems safeguarding basic human rights.

3. Create redundant safety mechanisms to keep human greed and ego in check.

4. Ensure all are fed, housed, and have basic needs accounted for.

5. Make access to education free for all.

6. Snap away oil executives, corrupt leaders, and the aristocracy.

7. Provide a safe, cheap, miniaturized, portable energy source.

8. Make ourselves immortal and make duplicates, so that we can objectively safeguard the world as needed when people try to fuck it up.

9. Ensure the universe is truly infinite to combat ever increasing entropy and enable continued existence for all life perpetually, should they acquire the means for mass scale cooperation, peace, expansion, and eventual paradise.

HER

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So, we gotta talk about HER because it is a requirement that I study and I can’t do that until I write this because she has been occupying the better part of my head lately.

She is one attractive human who possesses beauty undreamt of. I would randomly see around and thought “she is quite fine-looking this human, I would love to know HER”. Then, I found out we had a few mutual friends who would randomly mention HER in passing and just like that, I randomly met HER. Then I got to have a random conversation with HER one day and damn…I was overcome with awe and wonder. I couldn’t stop listening, she is really sophisticated and witty. That had to be one of the best conversations I have had in my life. I think about it a lot.

Accidental call

One night I randomly go through my phone and I realize that I may have HER number. So, I decided to call HER. I had no chills that day. At one point, someone called me using HER phone and I saved the number. I was only doing trial and error to see if it would go through. It did go through. At first, I was a little nervous but, turns out she was also excited to hear from me. That was a lovely one hour and 44 minutes conversation. We did plan to hang out and smoke little. A vice we both share.

Smoke day

Well, I am probably not proud of all that smoking but it was totally worth it. Chainsmoking was the order of the evening. That whole time, I was learning all these new things from HER. The sapiosexual in me was receiving pleasure and satisfaction every moment of it and I watched HER getting more and more attractive the more she talked.

Another smoke day

This time, I was a tad bit anxious and to calm my nerves, I had a few shots of whiskey. She showed up. I handed HER a shot. We ended up buying more liquor and cigarettes and the rest of the night was too sacred for me to share but it involved selection of clothes and pressing delete.

The memories I got, I never want to lose. I will hold on to them for as long as I can whether I get to see her again or not. I will think about HER at least once a day and then thank the universe for bringing to me this perfect little arrangement of atoms. I am so smitten. I kinda like it. It’s a strange feeling. I got feels again, I think a party to remember this day is in order.