The problem with insomnia is you’re awake. Fully functional and aware to every beat, thump, pump, slick, lick, rick, prick, oh now you’re just getting wordy aren’t you? That’s the thing, anda are as awake as anda are asleep, you're neither. akting out on muscle memory as anda slug through the day, never were anda fully asleep atau fully awake. You’re just there. Like an single slash mark in the world, adding yourself, thinking anda belong when really, you’re just a number.
A number that no one will ever count on.
No one will rely on.
Lean on.
Carry on.
Just striding on your senseless body and numbing nods to every plea bargain bombarding your work desk. Stack after stack, anda stamp after stamp upon papers after papers. That’s your job in this Empire, your duty in this institute of lies that produce faster than the red spoon products your Nana’s "son" is throwing up.
“You have a minute?”
anda do, but anda won’t. Above the thick rims, anda can see him. Invading your cinematic cubic without a single care riding on mimicking bucks pondering the edges of his mouth. Jake, rather Mr.English, prop his neatly steam-press Marc Polo elbows onto your property. anda swore at that moment, anda wanted, needed to beat him down. Suffocate his pseudo accent with that godawful tie until your knuckles bare whiter than peaking tanlines. anda hate this man. Walking around like people even enjoy his presence, his spiels actually worth something. Mr. English, sure he has lebih "mangrit" than anda can ever achieve, but at least anda can catch a clue as if it was painted blue.
"Something had whisk me away tonight, do anda mind filling in for me?"
anda can, but anda wouldn't but anda still accept. Anything to get his purple patch glee out of there. Though, who did he fight?
anda ask.
"Oh! This. It's nothing just a tussle I had, have anda ever gotten in a good round of fisticuffs before?"
Snap.
anda snapped, all because anda didn't want to lie about never getting into a fight before. It wasn't that anda were scared of confrontation, anda just haven't, well until now.
On your heels, your lurch forward. Fingers leeching onto that shitty, green tie and as soon as your digits felt silk, around and around they looped the smooth grooves of the tie. Quickly, anda hooked and yank the tie back in the means of arching English muscle. anda felt him, ribcage expanding to his flaring nostrils sucking in air as anda sat on puncak, atas of his stomach. In the void, he shout a call for distress and yet, he's staring.
At
You.
As he whimpers underneath each and every swipe of knuckles across his pulsing cheeks. Jake's lips are still moving, forming a single word that seems utterly foreign to the drums of the ears perched beside your head. What is he saying? Who is he whimpering? Why is he still conscious? In the midst of your confusion, anda cease your rampage. Loosening your grip, Jake head falls back in collection of blood leaking from his off-center nose and your panting. Gulping back the blood from your bitten tongue, anda wipe the sweat beading across your brow. Still anda sat on puncak, atas of him, wondering how are anda going fund anda Ikea furnished halaman awal now. Until, anda felt a tug against your shirt. Fingers streaked red and again, anda averted your gaze back to him.
"You okay?"
Snap.
anda shake anda head. You're back on your chair and your awake from your dream. anda began to nod your furiously to shoo Mr. English away.
"You don't want to die without any scars now do you?"
No, no anda don't.
"Then live a little! Go out on an adventure, lad." He hoot, "well, if anda best be needing me. I'll be in my office."
-
anda are awake.
Wide awake, and anda can see just about everything. Shutting the glass door shut, anda began to make way down the street. It's 2am, and you're still up this unnatural hour. anda should be in bed, tucked away in a dream instead of staying up as if you're running some blog atau membaca some story to get your sexual frustrations out. However, anda are here. Walking along the road listening to the honks, skids, flicker of the street.
"Hey loser."
Stopping anda turn to face the sumber of noise, to the left anda see him. Back aligning to wall, hips shot as his hands violate his pockets, he's calling you.
"You lookin' a lil lonely, ya' need some Strider lovin', babe?" Southern roots bare between the smirk gliding along his lips.
This is how anda meet Dave Strider.
He was new in town, coming from someplace down south anda knew wasn't important to care for. Despite being in town for a week, he already found work: A waiter at this restaurant, cashier at this record store and this other place anda couldn't recall because Dave got bored talking about useless, mind-numbing shit that no one is going to care about. According to Dave," the only shit people are going to remember is how much anda make. They don't give a fuck if you're popping eight balls so hard, Snoop Dog got anda on speed dial all they care about is anda how anda going to get Snoop Dog to perform at their shitty party. Just so they can say,'I bet your man can't do that.'"
In truth, that's all everybody cares about. Who's Alpha and who's Beta. We only ask people how their doing so we can tell them we're doing better than them, to put them in their place just so anda can feel better for yourself. anda are no malicious person, anda are a simply a human being in this materialistic society anda were carved in. anda are a copy, of a copy, of a copy but anda want to be the better copy. To better, to be closer to the original just to beat the original and become the best. If the world were to end, it will end with anda on top.
anda are Dave's bitch.
And you're not complaining.
Dave gets your pants off in public, and anda allow him. He's calling anda the "finest piece of ass" he's ever seen other than his own, and damn don't anda feel special. Just the way Dave is leading anda to the side of the building, anda knew he had done this before. He sliding like no man should ever be legally to do so, criminally smooth he push anda against the wall. The leather strap slip from your grasp to supply mutes. anda are not his first, and neither is he yours but anda will damn if anda berkata anda lying when anda say he doesn't excite you. That he doesn't get your blood pumping faster than anybody you've been with. The thought of him, ringing those rosy lips along your shaft, his berwarna merah muda, merah muda tongue thumbing through those full, plump lips tented your slacks.
anda celana panjang longgar, celana panjang pooled around your ankles, already Dave merpati right in. Placing sloppy kisses over the cotton briefs, closing your eyes anda let Dave work anda into a puddle of nothing. anda sighed, Dave.
anda open your eyes once more, making sure Dave was there. Making sure Dave wasn't another one of your dreams.
anda see a televisi screen, not Dave Strider.
Disappointments, disappointments everywhere. That's the problem with insomnia, you're never really awake atau asleep. You're just there. Filling a void in the world up until your waktu berakhir date. What's the point of lying in bed, anda have work to go to. Getting up, anda make way towards your bedroom, pop a few pills and get your pantat, keledai in the shower. Cutting a corner, anda start to wonder. Was there a person even name Dave Strider? What is he? Wait, anda know the answer.
He's not you.
anda wish anda could've gotten at least a phone num- dear god what the fuck is that? Sitting on puncak, atas of your computer, what kind of doll requires that long of a fucking nose? Holy shit, what the fuck. Though, anda couldn't help but to indulge in curiousity. Rolling your step along the carpet, anda ease your way to mysterious beast. That thing can explode, rob you, multiply, anda don't even know. Huh? Your computer is on.
turntechGodhead [TG] started pestering ectoBiologist [EB]
TG: sup
TG: ever need company
TG: anda know who to call
TG: not that ghostbuster shit
TG: speaking of which nice boxers kid feels pretty damn nice
turntechGodhead [TG] ceased pestering ectoBiologist [EB]
anda are Dave's booty call.
A number that no one will ever count on.
No one will rely on.
Lean on.
Carry on.
Just striding on your senseless body and numbing nods to every plea bargain bombarding your work desk. Stack after stack, anda stamp after stamp upon papers after papers. That’s your job in this Empire, your duty in this institute of lies that produce faster than the red spoon products your Nana’s "son" is throwing up.
“You have a minute?”
anda do, but anda won’t. Above the thick rims, anda can see him. Invading your cinematic cubic without a single care riding on mimicking bucks pondering the edges of his mouth. Jake, rather Mr.English, prop his neatly steam-press Marc Polo elbows onto your property. anda swore at that moment, anda wanted, needed to beat him down. Suffocate his pseudo accent with that godawful tie until your knuckles bare whiter than peaking tanlines. anda hate this man. Walking around like people even enjoy his presence, his spiels actually worth something. Mr. English, sure he has lebih "mangrit" than anda can ever achieve, but at least anda can catch a clue as if it was painted blue.
"Something had whisk me away tonight, do anda mind filling in for me?"
anda can, but anda wouldn't but anda still accept. Anything to get his purple patch glee out of there. Though, who did he fight?
anda ask.
"Oh! This. It's nothing just a tussle I had, have anda ever gotten in a good round of fisticuffs before?"
Snap.
anda snapped, all because anda didn't want to lie about never getting into a fight before. It wasn't that anda were scared of confrontation, anda just haven't, well until now.
On your heels, your lurch forward. Fingers leeching onto that shitty, green tie and as soon as your digits felt silk, around and around they looped the smooth grooves of the tie. Quickly, anda hooked and yank the tie back in the means of arching English muscle. anda felt him, ribcage expanding to his flaring nostrils sucking in air as anda sat on puncak, atas of his stomach. In the void, he shout a call for distress and yet, he's staring.
At
You.
As he whimpers underneath each and every swipe of knuckles across his pulsing cheeks. Jake's lips are still moving, forming a single word that seems utterly foreign to the drums of the ears perched beside your head. What is he saying? Who is he whimpering? Why is he still conscious? In the midst of your confusion, anda cease your rampage. Loosening your grip, Jake head falls back in collection of blood leaking from his off-center nose and your panting. Gulping back the blood from your bitten tongue, anda wipe the sweat beading across your brow. Still anda sat on puncak, atas of him, wondering how are anda going fund anda Ikea furnished halaman awal now. Until, anda felt a tug against your shirt. Fingers streaked red and again, anda averted your gaze back to him.
"You okay?"
Snap.
anda shake anda head. You're back on your chair and your awake from your dream. anda began to nod your furiously to shoo Mr. English away.
"You don't want to die without any scars now do you?"
No, no anda don't.
"Then live a little! Go out on an adventure, lad." He hoot, "well, if anda best be needing me. I'll be in my office."
-
anda are awake.
Wide awake, and anda can see just about everything. Shutting the glass door shut, anda began to make way down the street. It's 2am, and you're still up this unnatural hour. anda should be in bed, tucked away in a dream instead of staying up as if you're running some blog atau membaca some story to get your sexual frustrations out. However, anda are here. Walking along the road listening to the honks, skids, flicker of the street.
"Hey loser."
Stopping anda turn to face the sumber of noise, to the left anda see him. Back aligning to wall, hips shot as his hands violate his pockets, he's calling you.
"You lookin' a lil lonely, ya' need some Strider lovin', babe?" Southern roots bare between the smirk gliding along his lips.
This is how anda meet Dave Strider.
He was new in town, coming from someplace down south anda knew wasn't important to care for. Despite being in town for a week, he already found work: A waiter at this restaurant, cashier at this record store and this other place anda couldn't recall because Dave got bored talking about useless, mind-numbing shit that no one is going to care about. According to Dave," the only shit people are going to remember is how much anda make. They don't give a fuck if you're popping eight balls so hard, Snoop Dog got anda on speed dial all they care about is anda how anda going to get Snoop Dog to perform at their shitty party. Just so they can say,'I bet your man can't do that.'"
In truth, that's all everybody cares about. Who's Alpha and who's Beta. We only ask people how their doing so we can tell them we're doing better than them, to put them in their place just so anda can feel better for yourself. anda are no malicious person, anda are a simply a human being in this materialistic society anda were carved in. anda are a copy, of a copy, of a copy but anda want to be the better copy. To better, to be closer to the original just to beat the original and become the best. If the world were to end, it will end with anda on top.
anda are Dave's bitch.
And you're not complaining.
Dave gets your pants off in public, and anda allow him. He's calling anda the "finest piece of ass" he's ever seen other than his own, and damn don't anda feel special. Just the way Dave is leading anda to the side of the building, anda knew he had done this before. He sliding like no man should ever be legally to do so, criminally smooth he push anda against the wall. The leather strap slip from your grasp to supply mutes. anda are not his first, and neither is he yours but anda will damn if anda berkata anda lying when anda say he doesn't excite you. That he doesn't get your blood pumping faster than anybody you've been with. The thought of him, ringing those rosy lips along your shaft, his berwarna merah muda, merah muda tongue thumbing through those full, plump lips tented your slacks.
anda celana panjang longgar, celana panjang pooled around your ankles, already Dave merpati right in. Placing sloppy kisses over the cotton briefs, closing your eyes anda let Dave work anda into a puddle of nothing. anda sighed, Dave.
anda open your eyes once more, making sure Dave was there. Making sure Dave wasn't another one of your dreams.
anda see a televisi screen, not Dave Strider.
Disappointments, disappointments everywhere. That's the problem with insomnia, you're never really awake atau asleep. You're just there. Filling a void in the world up until your waktu berakhir date. What's the point of lying in bed, anda have work to go to. Getting up, anda make way towards your bedroom, pop a few pills and get your pantat, keledai in the shower. Cutting a corner, anda start to wonder. Was there a person even name Dave Strider? What is he? Wait, anda know the answer.
He's not you.
anda wish anda could've gotten at least a phone num- dear god what the fuck is that? Sitting on puncak, atas of your computer, what kind of doll requires that long of a fucking nose? Holy shit, what the fuck. Though, anda couldn't help but to indulge in curiousity. Rolling your step along the carpet, anda ease your way to mysterious beast. That thing can explode, rob you, multiply, anda don't even know. Huh? Your computer is on.
turntechGodhead [TG] started pestering ectoBiologist [EB]
TG: sup
TG: ever need company
TG: anda know who to call
TG: not that ghostbuster shit
TG: speaking of which nice boxers kid feels pretty damn nice
turntechGodhead [TG] ceased pestering ectoBiologist [EB]
anda are Dave's booty call.
