Jon Ureña's Blog, page 62

A Spider's Song (Poetry)

Link for this poem on my personal page, where it looks better

---

Each day the spider gets bigger.
I feel the tips of its hairy legs
As it spins its web of death
Inside my head.

Hello.
Why are you here?
What’s your name?
How old are you?
What do you think about?
Where do you live?
Do you have a job?
Do you have a family?
Do you have a girlfriend?
Have you had children?
Are you happy?

I wake up before sunrise
So I can travel to my office
And handle lots of invoices
And deal with idiotic clients.
Every day is the fucking same.
I want to scream out loud,
But no one would hear me.

"Don't worry," the voice says.
"You'll get used to it."
It eats away at my thoughts
As it crawls inside my brain.

I'm walking on autopilot
When three thugs stop me.
I don't react how they'd prefer.
One of them grabs me by the throat,
And his fingers dig into my windpipe.
"Give us your wallet and cellphone."

I don't move, I don't speak,
I don't blink, I don't breathe.
They grab my arms and legs
And drag me into an alleyway.
They say I had my chance;
They'll take my shit themselves.

One punches me in the face,
Another kicks me in the stomach.
The third guy takes out a knife
And slices open my jacket.

The leader grabs my wallet,
And I drop my briefcase.
As it hits the ground with a thud,
I shove my thumb into his eye.

Seconds later I'm on the ground.
The knife is stuck in my chest.
I hear footsteps running away.
Blood pours out from my wound
And spills onto the pavement.
Pain pounds in my skull.
I feel my body growing cold.

I was minding my business,
Heading to work.
In the end, I am alone.
I never wanted to be born.

I’m an ant that’s been crushed,
A flower that never felt the sun,
A baby bird that fell out of its tree,
A worm that can’t get out of its hole.

"Hi, my name is Spider.
Your soul was on its way to hell,
But it got tangled in my webs.
Now you are trapped inside me."

I’m stuck in a giant spider’s belly.
I feel a thousand hairy spiders
As they scurry inside my ribcage
And crawl all over my heart.

I had been waiting for revenge
To be born in me,
So I could show them all
That I’m not their slave.

I'm about the size of a house.
I have a black carapace,
An oversized abdomen,
Six eyes,
Eight hairy legs,
Two pairs of venomous fangs.

My brain is made of silk,
And my blood is thick and sticky.
I’ve grown to fill this space,
And I’ll keep growing until I’m done.

I kill everyone that hates me,
Anyone that wants my money,
That tries to steal from me,
That treats me like trash,
Who bullies me,
Who’s cruel to me,
That insults me,
That cheats,
Who thinks of me as weak,
Who thinks I’m ugly,
That thinks I’m dumb,
That laughs at me,
Who looks down on me,
Who makes fun of my clothes,
That makes fun of me,
That lies to me,
Who ignores me,
Who talks behind my back,
That doesn’t understand me,
That doesn’t love me.

My fangs are full of venom,
So I’ll poison everyone,
Everyone who’s evil,
Or anyone that lives.

I’ll suck up their juices
And chew on their bones.
I will have my revenge
For what they've done to me.
Every one of them will learn
That I don’t need anyone,
That I can survive without them,
That I’m not their slave.

Thirty Euros, Pt. 1 (Fiction)

I'm woken up by the same alarm that has dragged me out from the oblivion of sleep this past week: the blithe voices of children, the footsteps of passersby, the conversations of people who met on the square and wanted to share details about their lives. And I exist at the periphery of all these moments, a speck smaller than all of them.
I sit upright on the bench. The dirty blanket slides down my torso. At least the coat kept me warm enough, because the nights will only get chillier and chillier. And then I'm hit with the same pangs of hunger that I've needed to get used to recently. I haven't eaten anything since yesterday at midday, when I managed to snatch some half-eaten food that a family had left at the outside table of a restaurant. At least the waitress didn't shout at me.
I rub my eyes, and when I blink the sleep away, I catch an old woman giving me a look of pity as she passes by. Even though it must be around nine and a half in the morning, there are already a good amount of children playing happily in the playground at the center of this square, under the supervision of their relatives. I must be an uncomfortable sight, but at least people pay me as much attention as to the garbage bins. While I like that most people ignore me, it's unlikely for anyone to throw money my way when they’d prefer I didn’t exist.
I have woken up tired for years, but never as exhausted as when I abandoned my boyfriend's apartment last Thursday. It's like my brain never shuts off entirely at night, maybe because some part of myself needs to remain alert in case some marauder realizes that I'm a woman. I don't want to imagine what some of the night crawlers in this rotten world would do to me, but I can't help but picture those things anyway.
After I pee in the public bathroom close to the imposing cathedral, one of the main reasons I've stuck around this area of Gros, I return to my bench and set up my piece of cardboard. If I'm very lucky, some of the many strangers that walk through this square will throw enough coins my way that I'll be able to eat some breakfast, far enough from other customers that they won't smell my stink.
As I wait, my mind insists on torturing me with pointless worries. For example, how many of these mornings I'll have to endure before I manage to write another word, and whether the words that I write will be published this time. I don't know if I'll be able to eat today, and I haven't written anything in a year and a half. Still, that's what my broken brain focuses on. I have no business continuing in this world, and yet I go on. Is it the same for the veterans, the other homeless that barely remember having lived in an apartment? Do they also wish to disappear, to finally be freed from the involuntary effort of being?
Around an hour and a half later I've only gotten three coins of twenty cents. My stomach keeps gurgling, my throat is parched, my saliva tastes like cat breath. I hear footsteps much closer than the other passersby dare to come, and when I lift my gaze, it falls on a woman in her mid twenties who is approaching me with determination. Her long, apple red hair is flowing in the breeze, and both her facial features as well as her slanted eyes evidence that she's Asian. Plenty of Asians have settled in the Basque Country, mostly Chinese, but this one looks fancier, like those Japanese girls that I saw in videos as they walked around the futuristic streets of Tokyo. She's wearing a striped, red, navy and white scoop neck sweater, as well as a black pleated skirt that covers her knees. She's holding a book with her right hand, but with the other she's holding the strap of a small backpack. When she stops a few steps away, making it obvious that she came for me, I want to hang my head low. She looks so young and full of life. Although I want to ask her to leave me be, maybe she's a tourist and will consider that throwing some coins my way is her good deed of the day.
I can tell she's about to speak to me, but I'm stunned by the familiarity in her kind eyes and the slightly raised corner of her mouth, which reveals a dimple under a prominent cheek. That's not the way you look at a stranger.
"Uh... Hello," I say with a dry, weak voice.
The girl nods as she drops her gaze to my piece of cardboard. Her sympathetic expression makes me uncomfortable, and it's the first time that anyone has regarded me as a full human being since I stopped living in an apartment last week.
"That doesn't look like much. Will you be able to eat some breakfast?"
Her voice is lively and achingly young-sounding, but I'm surprised by the lack of accent. She must have been living in this area for a long time, or was even born here. Perhaps her parents are Basque and she was adopted.
"Not yet, no," I say ashamedly. "But I might get lucky yet."
She's shaking her head as she smiles.
"And what if it doesn't happen today?"
I can't help but furrow my brow. What's this woman's deal?
"It will. I just need a little more time."
The woman grins, showing perfectly-shaped white teeth with prominent canines. I would have expected teeth like those in a Hollywood movie, but not belonging to someone who would interact with me.
"I love that you retain hope! It's important to keep your spirits up."
"Yeah, it is," I agree while trying to hide my embarrassment. "I don't think I would be able to speak one word if I had run out of it. So... did you want to make me feel better at this hour of the morning?"
"I do want to make you feel better, for sure, but not as a random stranger would! My name is Chieko."
For a moment I wonder if I should have a name, living in the streets.
"Ah... I'm Izar."
"Chieko Sekiguchi. That's how you call me."
She holds out her hand. I hesitate, but I shake it, and she squeezes it warmly.
"I like your name," she says. "It's so nice to meet a writer."
I'm shocked. She knows me, or at least what I have done.
"I like your books, too," Chieko continues. "Your stories are very beautiful."
Maybe I should feel better, appreciate that someone who knew I existed and who had taken time to read some of my stories bothered to approach me and treat me with such warmth, but I'm ashamed of having fallen this low, of having become a non-entity. My life is over. Nobody should be interested in hearing about me anymore.
Although I feel light-headed, I stand up so I can face this Chieko like a human being. My legs are already tired. I'm slightly taller than her. I don't want to stand too close, because my breath must stink.
"Thank you, Chieko," I say as I try to keep my voice steady. "I wouldn’t expect anyone to pay such attention to me. I suppose it can't be more obvious that I'm doing poorly, huh...?"
"You don't look bad at all! I mean it!" she says, and she beams at me like an angel. "Are you hungry?"
I nod.
"Let's go find someplace where we can eat breakfast together," Chieko adds.
She's already turning, but I shake my hands to gesture that she shouldn't worry. I try to smile, but my lips refuse to obey.
"No, that's okay. I'm sure I'll end up getting enough money to grab a bite."
Chieko's bright smile falters. She hadn't expected me to resist her offer.
"Oh, don't worry, I'll be glad to treat you!" she says. "I'll buy us both something to eat."
"I'll be fine."
I sit down dismissively. Chieko tilts her head as if she's trying to comprehend why I'm refusing.
"Aren't those coins, less than a euro, all the money you have? Haven't you slept on this bench?"
I shrug and nod. My stomach grumbles again as if chastising me.
"I don't need your help, Chieko, or anybody else's beyond the money some will throw my way. I appreciate that you've read the stuff I've written, but that doesn't mean much right now."
"No, it doesn't. But I still want to help."
Chieko’s eyes shine with compassion and understanding. I lower my head.
"I'll figure something out. Please... leave me alone."
She doesn't leave. My gaze remains fixed on the pavement between her legs. She's wearing garnet red tennis shoes, which don't match well with her black pleated skirt, but they look expensive. I can tell she will stand there until I address her again, so I sigh and lift my gaze. Chieko is smiling.
"You are a beautiful person, Izar. I wish you the best, and that you will be able to do what you want."
"You are a stranger. I'm not sure how you've ended up reading my books, as they didn't reach that many people, but I'm not the person you believe me to be. And if you truly want me to be able to do what I wish, you need to leave me alone."
"So you can rot by your lonesome, is that it?"
I couldn't have looked more bitter. Chieko laughs affectionately as if trying to make me smile, but I refuse. She then shows me the cover of the book she was holding. It's one of mine.
"You wrote this!"
I avert my gaze. I couldn't feel more distanced from the version of me who struggled the whole way through, until a publishing company printed my stories and delivered them to bookstores.
"Yes," I mutter. "I did."
"Come on! You are still the person who wrote it. You are not as bad as you think."
I take a deep breath, then rub my eyes. I don't want to face her cheerful expression.
"Chieko... You are annoying me. I beg you, please let me rot in peace."
"Nope! You shouldn't be here, Izar. A prodigy like you shouldn't be sleeping in the streets."
I'm getting dizzy, both from the hunger and the anger that's building up.
"You're right. I should not be here. I'm going home."
I stand up and start walking away from her, abandoning the few coins I've gotten so far, hoping that I'll be able to come back for them, but Chieko steps forward and grabs my hand. I'm too stunned to speak.
"I know you won't return to your boyfriend's place. You expect me to walk away, and in a while you'll come back and you'll either continue to sit here, hoping that kind strangers will give you enough money so you can eat, or you'll move to some other square in case I choose to come by again."
"How do you...?"
This Chieko appeared out of nowhere holding one of my books, and she knows that I lived with my boyfriend. She hasn't come across me by coincidence. But how would she know about those private details of my life? I never became famous enough that people would pry into my life like that.
"You are right," I say somberly. "I can't go home. I have nothing left."
Chieko offers me an understanding smile.
"Because that boyfriend of yours cheated, didn't he?"
My eyes widen. Chieko's expression manifests that she's aware that she shouldn't know that information, but that she'll open up if I give her the opportunity.
"Yes," I confirm. "He did. He's a bastard. He fucked several women, and I had enough. Who the hell are you, Chieko?"
"I'm your friend, Izar. You're not alone anymore."
My nostrils dilate. I feel as if she’s pressing the tip of a knife against my belly.
"Hey, let me buy you some breakfast, alright?" Chieko insists. "You'll need all the strength you can get."

We don't have to walk far. At the end of the large square, passing by the side of the cathedral, we cross the stone-paved, one-lane road. Chieko points at the outside seating area set up in a roundabout. It's separated from the adjoined road by glass panels, and the tables are covered by patio umbrellas. The morning light is bathing the glass panels in gold.
"I think this is where we should eat," Chieko says, smiling. "It looks very inviting."
"It does, for sure. Not only too expensive for what I could afford in my circumstances: they also wouldn't like me as a customer."
Chieko pats me on the back of my coat. I narrow my shoulders.
"But you are with me, so that's okay! I look quite fancy, don't I?" she says. "And it will be much cheaper than a regular restaurant. Come, sit down, and let's have breakfast together."
I choose a table distanced from the two couples that are enjoying their coffees. I worry about them smelling my stink, as well as glancing at me. Once a chair supports my weight, I realize that Chieko, who has sat down in front of me, is looking up at the nearby cathedral. As she has her head turned, I notice a wart-like protuberance behind her ear, but I had just realized that it was made of a plastic-like material when Chieko turns her head towards me again.
"You aren't from here, are you?" I ask her.
"Because I'm Asian?"
"Because you keep looking around as if you haven't seen this part of the city before."
Chieko smiles mischievously.
"You're right. You are good at noticing things. That's your nature as a writer, I'm sure."
"Any regular person would have been able to figure that out."
I was about to ask her about her lack of accent, but a waiter approaches us. I can barely look at him in the face, because anyone can tell that I'm homeless. Chieko assures me that I can order whatever I want, and this being a restaurant as well as a bar, I take advantage of my mysterious new friend and I order a coffee with milk, as well as a plate of Iberian ham and two eggs. Chieko giggles, and orders a cappuccino for herself. Once the waiter leaves, I keep my mouth closed for a few seconds. I'm salivating too much and I might end up drooling.
"Anyway, Chieko, I want to clarify something," I say. "I'm not a prodigy. I never was."
"Maybe you think too little of yourself."
"That's not true. I was a precocious child, sure, and I wrote almost every day, but it had little to do with talent and more with my wish to escape into my daydreams. It just happens that when my father sent that manuscript, the idea of a thirteen years old girl who managed to publish a book was a notion that they could sell to the newspapers. And he worked in the industry anyway."
"Yes, I remember. It was quite popular, and even got some awards."
I squint towards the sun, letting it warm my weary face. Its warmth feels so different now that I can anticipate a proper, even excessive breakfast.
"Isn't it true that all the cells in a human body get replaced in around seven years? I haven't been that young girl for a long time."
Chieko smiles as if humoring me, highlighting her dimples.
"You're right. In fact, you don't look like someone of twenty seven. You look younger than me, I have to admit."
"Very funny. I look very aged for my thirty one, and it's going to worsen now that I live in the streets."
I smell my plate of Iberian ham and eggs before it arrives. Once the waiter places it in front of me, its aroma makes me want to cry. I hurry to dip bread into the runny egg. The taste explodes in my mouth. I've never eaten something so delicious. I close my eyes and let the taste linger. I had almost forgotten who granted me this breakfast, and when I open my eyes, Chieko is sipping her cappuccino. Her expression has turned serious.
"I'm sorry for what happened with your boyfriend."
"It wasn't your fault, Chieko. Nobody forced him to cheat on me. And it wasn't the first time, either. I forgave him last year because... I couldn't afford not to, I suppose. I hoped to write again, and I can't go back to working in an office. I couldn't stand it. But this time, I had enough. Of him, of my parents, of struggling... So that's that. I left his place, and I will never go back."
Chieko puts her cappuccino down. I don't know how much time passes before she speaks again, but I've kept busy savoring the salty ham.
"But you mustn't give up on writing," she says. "I have faith in you. You'll be fine."
"Let me ask you something: do you write, Chieko? Are you a creative person?"
Chieko licks some coffee foam from her upper lip, and looks at the building front to our left as if trying to remember.
"I suppose anyone would consider me a creative person, although I'm going through a dry spell at the moment. I've never technically written anything, in that sense at least."
I gulp down some of my warm coffee. I was feeling like crap this morning, but I can hardly be more grateful towards this rich-looking stranger who has bought me a tasty breakfast.
"Then let me tell you something: people who romanticize writers might as well romanticize peeing in bottles and keeping a collection of them. That was a compulsion. I did it because my father was too busy with his job as a publisher to care for me, and when my parents' marriage fell apart and the both of them abandoned me, I needed to escape to those fantasies. That was all it was: my inability to deal with reality in a healthy manner."
Chieko looks down at the table as if saddened, but then she holds my gaze and narrows her slanted eyes.
"You said was. Was a compulsion. Do you intend to never write again?"
I was prepared to confirm it, but I stutter instead. I feel as if I was about to give up on breathing. But I hadn't lied nor exaggerated about the role that writing played for me.
"Chieko... I have been writing since I was a girl. They published that silly book when I was thirteen. Even that story was about me escaping from my troubled parents and living in the woods among magical creatures. I've published maybe six or seven books afterwards, I can't quite remember now, and each of them sold fewer copies the older I got. I have a single story to tell: that of wanting to escape from a life in which I am unhappy. There are only so many ways you can portray the same brokenness. And... are you aware of my issues with my parents once I grew up? You knew about me living with my boyfriend, so I wouldn't be surprised."
"Yes, I knew. Your father betrayed your mother and left her for another woman. Then both of them betrayed you, as they focused on their new families. You were pushed to the sidelines. They shouldn't have treated you like that."
My throat feels dry, but I can drink some more coffee.
"You must be my number one fan, Chieko."
She giggles. This girl looks so carefree that along with her clothes and perfect teeth, I wouldn't be surprised if either she or her family are millionaires. I better hold on to this one.
"No, that's an honor reserved to someone else I got to know to some extent. But I've gone over your stuff, learned about your background, and... came to care about you. Which is why I couldn't let you rot in the streets, could I?"
"I appreciate that, Chieko. I really do. But if you care for me as a writer, you've met me at the worst time of my life, because the notion of pushing myself to delve into creating fiction again makes me nauseous. Producing those books involved me delving into a personal hell, only to come out scarred further by the experience. You could say that at least other people got some enjoyment out of reading the result, but what does it matter at the end of the day? I never sold enough copies that I could write for a living, and my experience working in offices solidified that I was too broken to survive in the real world. I needed someone to pay for my expenses. That first time he cheated on me... I suppose that although I had expected people to betray me like my parents did, I had held on to the hope that this one person wouldn't. Afterwards, even though I stayed with him, I did it because I didn't want to struggle on my own. I couldn't love someone like that anymore. But what I can't take are the constant betrayals over and over, knowing that the person who is supposed to care for you, love you even, goes out to screw other women only to come back home and smile at you as if he wasn't stabbing you in the gut. Everybody has their breaking point, and last Thursday I discovered mine. I stopped caring, not only about that cheating son of a bitch but about myself, about the future, and whatever could happen to me. And I tell you all this because you seem to believe that it was a great thing that I wrote those books. After so many years of pain, of squeezing so many tears out of these weary eyes, I found myself on the streets with only thirty euros to my name. I wasn't worth anything else."
"I don't think that's true, Izar Uriarte."
I sigh, but I appreciate her support, as well as the egg that my stomach is digesting.
"Of course you don't, you are the image of hope. I can't imagine anything bad happening to you. Anyway, those thirty euros are gone. I didn't even get to spend them all, because someone stole my last ten euros note, or I lost it."
Although I laugh nervously, Chieko stares at me as if she's about to ask me something important.
"So then," she says, "you have nothing left, no money, and you've given up on writing."
"Yes, exactly."
"What are you going to do from now on?"
"I was thinking about staying in Donostia and begging."
Chieko tilts her head and purses her lips.
"So do you intend on being a homeless woman for the rest of your life?"
"Probably. I can't think of anything better to do. I guess I'll find out how that goes."
I smile, but I feel my throat choking up. I lower my head. I feel the warmth of Chieko's hand as she takes mine, that I was resting on the table, and she squeezes it gently.
"I don't think that'll go very well for you, Izar," she says.
I wipe my eyes.
"I don't care. I guess that... I have given up. Can you blame me? I can't even blame myself. I'm sick of all of it."
Chieko looks at me with sympathetic eyes.
"Wouldn't you prefer to go somewhere else?"
"Somewhere else where? Where is there a place for me?"
Chieko rests her face on her palms. She has finished her coffee, but she seems content with witnessing how I take my time with my breakfast.
"You can't stay in the streets of Donostia forever."
I finish my second egg. Chieko seems to be waiting for me to come up with a plan for my future.
"Whether I can or not," I start, "it might do me some good to finally be alone for a while. Everyone I've given my heart to has betrayed me. I guess it's time to learn the appropriate lesson, don't you think?"
Chieko shifts in her chair. A car goes around the roundabout, the noise of its engine splashing against the glass panel that separates the outside tables from the road.
"Didn't you enjoy travelling the world back when you were much younger, with your parents?" she asks.
I guess that information has appeared in some press note.
"I did, actually. I was happy with them, and I felt safe, before I knew what they were going to do. I was naïve, as a child who daydreams about magical beings can be. I didn't know anything about the world back then, nor about how people work. In any case, are you suggesting that I should travel the world again?"
Chieko smiles at me, and despite my mood, that bright face makes me want to believe in something better.
"Maybe you should," Chieko says.
I eat the last bit of Iberian ham, and savor it carefully. I can't rely on Chieko paying for my next breakfast.
"I think I'm done with adventures," I answer. "And I need to be alone."
Chieko leans back on the chair and stares as if daring me to hold her gaze. I can't get over how red her hair is. It looks too good to have been dyed, but I have never bothered to look into such matters.
"Would you have been happier in another era of this world?" she asks.
I don't know what to say. If she had asked me that question when I was thirteen, I would have answered without hesitation.
"I feel too old for such hypothetical questions."
"You're thirty one years old, Izar Uriarte. You can't afford to be afraid of the future, not to the extent that you won't prepare for it."
I sigh.
"I guess you have paid enough to lecture me... Well, do you actually want to know if I would have been happier in another era?"
"Yes, I do. So, if you could choose an era of this world, or of humanity's presence in it more accurately, for you to live in, which would you choose?"
"Probably the Renaissance."
Chieko smiles playfully.
"What's so great about the Renaissance?"
"Well, there was the invention of the printing press, a huge step forward. And I would have preferred living during the golden age of chivalry, as opposed to the iron age of capitalism."
"You are Joan of Arc material, aren't you?" Chieko says with amusement. "The Renaissance was a very different time."
"I'm just saying that it might have been better. I would have had a more appreciative audience."
Chieko leans on her elbows as she smiles at me.
"It would be nice, wouldn't it? To disappear from here?"
I sense a fatalistic tone, or maybe I'm imagining it, but I want to clarify the point.
"I don't want to die, Chieko. I wish I hadn't ended up like this."
"Then you shouldn't have given up on your life."
I shrug, then slouch on the chair.
"What's done is done. Besides, I'm going to end up dead sooner or later anyway."
"It's going to be sooner. This current existence of yours doesn't have a future."
"Well, I prefer this one over the others."
"Why?"
"Because it's mine."
Chieko crosses her arms, her first defensive gesture. She seems to have come to a conclusion.
"If you think you are done, will you follow me? I can offer you some other place."
"What kind of place?"
"You'll see. It involves a certain amount of trust, although I know that will be hard for you."
I feel a sudden coldness on my skin. Chieko is still smiling, but she has become a bit more solemn.
"You are enough of a fan that you wouldn't want me to be homeless, I understand that. But what is your intention with all of this? You searched for me and approached me deliberately."
"You're right," Chieko answers calmly. "I had a purpose in approaching you, and I still do, Izar Uriarte. I intend to preserve your life, and your talent."
"Do you mean preventing me from dying in the streets?"
"Yes. Because in less than a week you'll be a bloated corpse floating in the Urumea river."
I stare at her in disbelief.
"You are... one odd person, Chieko."
"I don't know if I'm odd, but I think you'll like what I have to offer. If you really want to live, then it's better to go with me now."
Chieko gets up from her chair and looks behind me, probably to signal the waiter for the bill. I'm confused, but I stand up as well and rub my cheeks.
"I will follow you then, if only because you are more likely to feed me than any of those strangers."
"I thought you were going to say something like that," Chieko says with a smile. "Let's get out of here."

A Revolving Door (GPT fueled poetry)

Link for this poem on my personal page, where it looks better

---

My inner world is beyond
Anyone's reach,
Including my own
I only get glimpses
I don't understand other people,
I can't understand myself

It's hard to connect with the living
To me they're unreal
I find them bland and lackluster,
Vapid and disposable
Their teeth are sharpened,
Their nests are full of vermin
For most intents and purposes,
I don't have friends nor a family
It's easy to get infatuated
With imagined people

I'm a carefree beast of nature,
A seeker of simple pleasures
I'm beyond fucked in the head
I've fallen in love with dreams

I'm going through the motions
In the absence of emotions
The things I think and say
Are constantly depressing
I’m a pile of bones,
Weeds and dirt
A container for a shame
Made of piss, cum and tears

As a way of offsetting my depression,
I have to ruin the lives of my children
I need them to come from a broken home,
To endure some extreme mental illness,
To sink in their own darkness
I want to witness their pain and suffering,
I want them to be the victims of mass murders,
I want them to be stabbed and strangled
And tortured and raped
I need to see their last moments of living

I'm running around in a ring of fire,
Only I'm the arsonist
I'm starting fires all over the place
And I'm the blaze
I set you aflame
And watch as your eyes burn,
Your face crumbles,
Your flesh cracks,
And your hands fall away
You'll never feel pain again

My pale, freckled child
Whom I came to love,
I wish you would know
I spent many sleepless nights
Grasping for any way
To save you

Why would I need to write fiction,
Give birth to paper people,
When I wish for real humans
To stay away?
The things I despise the most,
Beyond this body and mind,
Are your lifeless eyes
Staring back at me

I'm a vessel forced to exist,
A host in a windowless room,
A hapless slave
To my shattered psyche,
Locked up in a vat of ice
Cold enough to keep me alive,
But I’m breaking apart
And destroying myself

I used to daydream about suicide
To feel relief
No matter how bad it got,
The exit was there
No longer do I dream
About drowning,
But the revolving door of depression
Will always remain

All that I have to offer
Is a collection of mournful songs
Assembled from nonsense
To hide from life
The dry bones of humanity
I pick and poke

I will drag you down
Until your soul is destroyed
The rats will come
To eat your flesh

Sasquatch Goddess (Poetry)

Link for this poem on my personal page, where it looks better

---

I’ve gotten hit by a mind control fetish.
I’m kept awake at night by sasquatches,
Who make me sleep in,
Snort coke,
Hoard garbage,
Fondle dead things,
Suck people’s souls from their eyes,
Tell sad stories that make people weep,
And laugh at roadkill.
I never feel well.

I’m a sorcerer with the spirit
Of a fornicating vagina,
And also a minor god of utter madness,
The sole spawn of the pink-headed love frog.
A deity of high temperature,
The holiest of fucks.

I know of a goddess fit to worship,
A queen with whom you can eat and sleep.
She’s strong and tall,
Has two arms and four legs,
Tanned skin and golden hair,
Thick, matted white fur,
And eyes that sparkle with magic.

She stores her soul in a silver trunk,
She carries fire in her womb,
She came to this lonely world
In a pink egg.
It’s the one goddess to know:
Harelactal the Great Motherly Beast.

There’s also this other god named Pulsurin,
The Overwhelming Pull Of The Unwilling.
They say he’s one of the mightiest gods.
I don’t have a good feeling about this Pulsurin.

Harelactal was brought to this world
On the back of a lunar eclipse,
When she was a sasquatch at the zoo.
It was later claimed that she was birthed
By a copper man who dreamed about sea slugs,
And who was in love with the planet Uranus.
This is, however,
A common misconception.

Those mind-controlling sasquatches,
Coke-smoking monsters of the night,
As they prepare to conquer the Earth
They all worship the Great Mother,
Who will snatch the souls
Of those who refuse her call.

Harelactal takes people into the woods
And forces them to dig their own graves,
Then grants them eternal sleep.
Her victims decompose into pink little eggs,
Which will hatch and turn out to be
The brains of the beasts she birthed.

Her sasquatch brethren wage a cold war
Against former policeman David Paulides,
Because he’s slowly unveiling to the world
The sasquatches’ plan to destroy humanity.

The Great Motherly Beast will steal your soul.
She’s gonna snatch it for herself
So she may live forever
And do whatever she wishes.
She desires the entire world,
Harelactal the Great.

Those who deny her commandments
Will be fed to the Great Mother’s fetishes.
Harelactal will punish anyone who gets in her way,
But it’s okay, because she’s a goddess.

She moves through time
And she also moves through space.
She’ll crack your dreams,
Then suck off your head.

She brain-controls people
To keep them up at night,
So they can be dragged into a hidden compound
Of yet-unrevealed tassle-fuck stories.

Harelactal rules by terror.
She leads her human acolytes
To dine at her pool of blood,
Where the hunters and the prey
Live happily ever after.
She fucks them to death
Then feeds them to her pets,
And as a result of their heroism,
They’re permitted to fuck her in turn.

I was hit on by Harelactal.
She took me into the woods
And told me to dig my own grave.
When she put me down into the hole,
I didn’t think this goddess was nice,
But she will always take care of me.

Harelactal is my goddess,
And I love her to bits.
I’ve always wanted a big, furry queen.
Now I’m trapped in her divine prison,
I live in the world she created.

I once visited the temple where my Great Mother
Lived aeons ago in the form of a priestess.
The High Motherly Beast, Harelactal the Great,
Was worshipped as the Goddess of Time and Space,
Torsketerin the Four-Eyed,
She Who Keeps Things Locked Up In Her Ears,
And Needs Not Seek Orders From Anywhere
In the Forests Or In Other Places.

I won’t struggle against Harelactal the Great.
She is a goddess, I am her animal.
I serve her, I live for nothing else.
I am her slave, she’s my mistress.
I will speak only as she dictates.

I love Harelactal the Great,
She is my dearest friend.
She lives in my apartment,
Although my place is also haunted
By a hexenbiest.

Harelactal is one weird Mother.
She gives me large, blue pellets to eat.
She’s always staring at me
From inside my trash cans,
My kitchen cabinets,
The bathroom sink.
She leaves trails of noxious fumes
That smell of burning rubber and rotten meat.
She breathes fire out of her nostrils,
And she’s probably insane.

She controls me by pushing a button
On her pink wand.
When she pushes the second button,
Her transdimensional dungeon opens.
Trapped in its bowels, Harelactal's pets
Crawl out from all kinds of dug holes.
They became her minions
For failing to worship her.

I know what Harelactal wants me to do,
But I never understand what’s going on.
I don’t know why she commands me.
I’m merely a writer, possibly a poet.
I do my best in my role as a minor god,
And a recovering kleptomaniac.

I adore this woman in her bizarre fashion,
And I wish that she’d slap me on the ass.
I want her to lock me up in her dungeon,
But she laughs at my fantasy.
I haven't reached her level, never will.
At least I get to pet her minions.

I love caressing the fur of my goddess.
I’m a martyr to her whims.
I love the scent of her pussy.
I’m glad she made me her fuck slave.

On dark, godless highways, Harelactal
Has sacrificed many sinners to herself.
This goddess of the underworld
Loathes human beings.
She hurls feces at her enemies.

I adore the wickedness
Of my despicable queen.
Her hate fills me up with a double dose
Of indescribable supernatural lust.
We don’t have to share thoughts,
We understand each other perfectly.
Our union is fated and real.
The sex is sasquatchly ecstatic.

A toilet-shaped truth in her eye,
And a strand of sasquatchic lube
Ringing her hirsute anus,
The shape of which is obscene.
Smack my face,
Tickle my ass,
My beast of eternal lust.
I’m tired of living in this world.

As I wrote, I’m also a lesser god.
I’m a tinker, a seamstress.
I sew puppets for a living,
To make strangers weep.
My shrine is in my bedroom,
Where I turn dreams into trash
By weaving tragic stories
Of cracked spirits.

I handed Harelactal my latest manuscript,
And I’m thrilled that she’s reading it.
She did a great job herself when she penned
Her ‘Harelactal’s Story Of The Apocalypse’,
Which was never supposed to be published,
But will end up as a viral entity,
A fragment of the divine truth
We’ll all be forced to unveil.

The Great Motherly Beast is coming for you.
She will snatch your soul
And devour your mind.
Harelactal will feed you her milk
While she whispers sweet things.
After you suckle on her nipples,
She’ll fondle your genitals
And slap you in the face.

Hate me for loving a big,
White-furred sasquatch
That eats human brains.
May she live forever
And do whatever she wishes.
She’ll own the whole world.
Harelactal’s eggs will hatch
And feed on your souls.

A Visit From Truck-kun (GPT fueled poetry)

Link for this poem in my personal page, where it looks better

---

My new sister is in love with the princess
I got a human friend, she’s a knight
We have four wizards in our party
There’s some crap going on with the king
But I don’t care one bit
About fantasy world politics

I like how my new family treats me
I love the food, the pleasant smiles
They’re generous,
But I always see my previous parents
In the mirrors

Our four wizards are high-ranking
The elf and the half-demon are important,
The half-reptile has superpowers,
One is a fireball-slinging halfling
There used to be five,
But she’s dead
So now there are only four
And our knight Podema, who’s gone kind of rogue

This is one fucked up world
With dungeons, dragons,
Unicorns, witches, demons
Too many swords
A map full of markers
I was used to life in a sandbox,
My own little world to care about

You can be one of the heroes
There’s treasures to be found,
Lots of battles to win,
People to save
Now I’m on a quest

We got surrounded by human-looking monsters
They call them bandits around these parts
They attacked us with swords and crossbows
We dispatched them with elemental magic
These people must’ve been desperate,
Or just wished to die

We come across a group of soldiers
Something about collecting some rock
The troops didn’t seem very dangerous
They attacked us for some reason
Our fire mage, Bimbo, roasted them
I stabbed their corpses

Some peasants are telling us
Those are the worst wolves
They’ve seen in their lives
We killed them all with a fireball
A bunch of bullshit
To start the day

There are lots of snakes
Those are really unicorns
Why is that bow floating?
This is some weird-ass forest

My head was fractured by a unicorn
Our half-reptilian Thordall
Healed me with a spell
I addressed our other guys
“What are you waiting for?
Just kill those horny fuckers”
I also started fighting and slicing
I wanted to see their skeletons

We were all bored
The water mage told some fish stories
The four of them keep going on about a druid
They look like a bunch of nerds
Now I use a sword and a shield
But I used to play with Legos

Our water wizard is a grey-skinned elf
Kutinaira was once a goddess,
But she became demi-goddess,
Or so she says
What nobody can deny
Are those meaty breasts

I was getting aroused,
Tried to kiss our knight
She pushed me away
Some chastity crap
Podema signed up, the poor thing,
For a lifetime of self-diddling

We were called to the royal castle
A bunch of stuff about a prophecy
I have a headache, my balls itch
The king is missing or some shit

There are kings who are killers
The nobles bring up some of them
They have names like in a novel
I’m sure they have expensive tastes
And they spend a lot of time
With their soldiers fighting demons
I know I carry a sword and stuff,
But I’m not a warlord

In the sky there’s tons of birds
These angry guys are well armed
Their leader shouts at us
“Tell that asshole with you,
The halfshit midget
With the annoying face,
If he uses his fire
You’ll all be fried!”
I love when they give me
Some motivation
We nailed the other guys to death
Weren’t worth the trouble

We find a little village
The woman who runs the inn
Has big, motherly charms
She is used to everybody
Kissing and groping her
So we have a lot of fun

We are riding our horses
Through this creepy forest,
Looking for the way out
The wolves are hungry,
The orcs are scary
I hear a little girl crying

We come across a house
An old soldier and her two children
Run outside to greet us
Those are some sad eyes
Our fire wizard questions them
About the lay of the land
The soldier says, “Take them with you
Something horrible will happen
It’s just a matter of time”
One of the kids says, “Please”
I am a courageous man
I have just killed a wolf,
Stabbed through its right eye,
Then chopped off its head
But I don’t want any part
Of this shit

Royal palace, high-ranking people
Some wizard was trying to rule the land
He was the one that captured the king
Some other party rescued him

So there are wars between kingdoms
And problems with wizards
They’ve kept me in the dark
I want to see more of the world
Maybe go on another adventure,
Or just return home

A royal chamber
With a king and queen
They looked like twins
I’m quite sure she hit on me
There were lots of slaves
They all had the same face

I need to be the king
Might as well
My father was a boss
I can do much better

The king’s daughter looks like a future queen
She may be my princess one day
But I don’t know,
I’m not ready to marry

I spend my days hunting monsters,
Stalking a bunch of different creatures
Then I’m fondled by a damsel
Who kisses the shit out of me

“Come to my home, Captain,” she says
“Will you save me for a night?”
I love those sweet nothings
Coming from such luscious lips
The girls around here are sweet
Delightfully stupid
Their bosoms are filled
With honey

I’m a straightforward guy
I don’t like talking too much
But I fell in love with that babe
After a kiss from her lips
She gave me such a grand time
Made me eggs for breakfast

We rode our mounts in a circle
As we wore the monsters down
With elemental spells
There’s lots of fighting
In this world where I live
So much shit to kill

A swordfighter joined our party
He got stabbed in the thigh
By a goblin of all things,
And fell down a bottomless hole
I couldn’t help him
Didn’t retain his name

I’m the only one with a positive attitude
I made Bimbo understand
It doesn’t work out for everyone
And, even if it did,
People die on such quests
That’s just life

A giant, flying crocodile
Went out of its way to attack us
We took it down with fireballs,
Or at least our fire mage did
That halfling handles anything
We weren’t afraid
I was envious
I want to fly away

Bimbo is suffering from depression,
Oliveiro keeps up his sexual dalliances,
Kutinaira keeps eyeing me like a god
Of peace and love
A friend of theirs invited us
To some old knight’s funeral
Bimbo was supposed to stay with me,
But they dragged me along

Some ladies from the funeral
Wanna become my groupies
Young and cute maids
We don’t have to share,
But I give my half-reptilian pal Thordall
One of the cutest
He’s good at fucking her
Even upside down
He uses his lips, teeth, and nails
He’s much better than me

Our water mage Kutinaira
Keeps fucking me with her eyes
“Knock it off, elf,” I tell her,
“You are like a thousand years old”
“And you are like a tiny little baby,”
That old pervert answers
Our fire mage Bimbo gets frustrated,
That brooding bastard
He’s a halfling, he doesn’t get any
We should have paid attention to his soul

We came across some dwarves
Who were prospecting for gold
All of us lost
We kept telling each other
We must be doing something wrong
Some trolls came out nowhere,
Then charged against the dwarves
It was our chance to fuck off

Lots of excitement in our lives,
Lots of balls being kicked
None of us are useless
I keep getting splashed with blood
Sometimes I pretend to be a beast
I shout and I roar and I fight

The princess is the light of my life
I am a master of my domain
I will rule the kingdom in the end
It will be the happiest day

A red-eyed, pissed off unicorn
That keeps foaming at the mouth
Wants to use its magic,
So I stab at its flank
Now it’s laying on the ground
In a puddle of blue blood
It pains me to kill
A beautiful soul

Orcs, orcs, and orcs
Some of them are carrying swords,
Some are throwing primitive bombs
They are drugged out of their skulls

This dungeon looks familiar,
Might have come down here before
We keep getting ambushed
By mechanized sentries
Built by a long-forgotten race
I miss the warmth of the sun
We finally find an old elevator
And save our lives

The princess was fondling a young teen,
Of those with breasts and a pussy
I stood there for too long
The princess put a spell on me,
Teleported me away
I wanted to watch
I thought that a princess was supposed
To be chaste and stuff

A cave full of giant toads
We don’t even need to fight
A magic spell cooks them all
“Sorry to do everything, you guys,”
Our fire mage says as he sits down
“Don’t you get bored?” Kutinaira asks
Bimbo shrugs
“From time to time”
“Well, if now is the time,”
Oliveiro says,
“Let’s go to the festival of spring”
“I do like the sound of that”

Stupid elf Kutinaira
Peeks at me
As I take a leak
“Really?” I ask her
“Are you really?”
She winks at me,
But I glare
“Perverted broad,
Just let me pee
In peace”

I keep thinking about my peasant girl
I miss the taste of her breasts
I got a hot hand
I masturbate
I imagine myself inside her
Her nether regions were so exquisite

We were staying out of trouble
As we lounged around in town
The princess’ bodyguards
Tried to shove me down a hole
I swear I won’t tell anybody
About your troublesome tastes

Our knight managed to cure
A sorcerer’s madness
With some sort of holy spell
The guy was grateful
He didn’t know how to fight,
But he could cast spells
One night he grabbed my dick
“Sorry, man,” I said,
“I ain’t gay”
He didn’t last long

I’m surrounded by guards
They catch and bind me
My friends come to my aid
Our fire wizard stabs one guy
Who screams in pain
When they release me,
I chop someone’s head off
I’ve forgotten about my home
I swear I’ll never make it
Out of this place

Our party wanders through the dark woods
We’re lost in the rain,
Which washes away the blood on my sword
I haven’t had sex in months

We come across a cabin
A black-haired druidess is standing there
“Come on in!” she says
There’s fire coming from the fireplace
The woman was boiling eggs
She looks like an old-school nerd

The druidess tells us
“I heard you’re on a quest
To find the Elshul”
“Sorry, woman,” I say,
“I have no clue what that is”
“You have no idea
About the Elshul, do you?”
I narrow my eyes
“What the hell did I just say?”
“If they ever come back,
I’m gonna kill them all!”
I shun her like a leper
The druidess gives me a herb
She says it’s for pleasure
She doesn’t need a potion
To provide an orgy

“You are very handsome, Captain
I am telling you as a truth
I want you to be my love”
I motion for my party
To leave through the door
“I’m afraid I’m taken, lady,” I say,
“And that’s a whole lot of warts
On your nose”

The wizards on our party
Are interested in our little problem
Two have fallen in love with me
One of them is a man
I’m in love with that peasant damsel
And also want a piece of our knight’s ass

The party returns
We find some whiskey
Our old elf Kutinaira,
Master of water magic,
Keeps fondling my dick
I go to the brothel

I went to hear some dwarven music
By my lonesome self
A really cool band
We bonded over some bard songs
They have a lot of potential,
If they get their shit together
The singer used to have a big-ass house
Until some goblins infested it

I’m love with a woman from this town
It isn’t a fairytale
“Hey, that is my wife!”
I can tell by the man’s anger
That the bastard ain’t lying
He’s willing to kill
A big soldier they call Captain,
Although my sword is dripping blood
I bow my head to him
“Sorry, man
Your wife’s tits
Are filled with honey”

Kutinaira performed a meteor-like phenomenon
Some lasers of fire came out of the sky
I saw streaks of a bright light
Somebody described this as ghosts
We need an alchemist in our party,
Or at least to stop eating random mushrooms
I totally forgot for a moment
That Kutinaira is just the wet kind of mage

We ended up in a hellhole
I don’t know what to do
I keep saying, “Fight”,
But nobody does
That’s a crapton of wyrms
There will be blood everywhere

My night vision gets wrecked by a certain princess
Her flying goons are pushing us down
Stop sending assassins after me,
I’ve never said a thing

Some baboon blew up a chunk of the walls
Stuff starts exploding as we all rush to the site
As if planned, a hundred goblins attack
We shoot them, slice them, a bunch get captured
I hate this kind of coordination
Among the stupid

Where the hell is that castle?
The map marks it around here
It’s been two days since we ate
The monsters in these parts
Are likely to kill us all
Our four mages are in pain,
I feel like puking
Our wizard Bimbo looks like shit
All my sex dreams
Might soon be over
The knight urges us to camp
And take care of our sick friend

I got separated through
Some cobwebby catacomb
This perverted dwarf
Popped my cock out
In front of the other dwarfs
The little woman fucked me
With an urgency,
With an intensity
I got real hard
I didn’t mind
I bet she hadn’t had any
In a while

As we searched a town
To heal our elf’s unicorn
That kept dripping blue blood,
We bumped into some noblewoman
Who was playing a violin
And singing a song about her pussy
It gave my dick
Some naughty satisfaction

A dragon is gobbling up a young maiden
That ugly bugger
Crashed into the restaurant
Where we were eating

Once we returned to the palace,
I happened to catch a glimpse
Of the princess lazing around
In a goddamn bikini
I really need to fuck
That murderous cunt

Kutinaira went on and on
About me being really hot
What a pain in the ass
I’m still in love
With that peasant girl
“You’re a disgrace,” she says
“What happened to your dick?”
I shoot her a look
“I assure you it works,
You ancient elf”
“Then pull it out,
I’ll gladly suck it out”

Our cleric Thordall doesn’t like me,
But loves being a priest
He saw some ghosts in a haunted church
He said, “No, no, that’s not right”
The rest of us sat around
While Thordall exorcised some souls

We are fighting orcs
I imagine the princess riding
On a rainbow unicorn
“Can you fuck me now?”
She asks me alluringly,
As if I were a teen girl
“I’ll cut your bastard head off!”
The orc yells something fierce
As he charges at me
I thrust my sword through his dick
Don’t go around interrupting
A man’s daydreams

The only time I’m ever happy
Is when I’m fighting enemies

When days later we returned to town,
Some peasant houses had burned down
A bunch of people tried to blame us
Many were drunk
I don’t like when people complain
The locals said it was obvious
That castle was enchanted,
We shouldn’t have looted it
Because of some magic shit
Must’ve been the reason, they said,
For all the fire elementals
The peasants went home to get drunker
A pissed off quartermaster
Wanted to drag us to their base,
Kept threatening us,
Until he understood
We pick our teeth
With bone splinters
Carefully collected
From dismembered wyrms

I’m leaning against the wall,
Looking through some mail
It’s full of lewd letters,
All sex-related
I didn’t get any photos
Of the princess in a bikini

I want to get a room with our knight
The next town is close
I’ll slink off somewhere quiet to jerk off,
Then we’ll eat a meal and go home

I meet a foreign princess
She looked like a hag,
But wore a cozy, velvety gown
She told me the girls
Of their fantasy realm
Have incredible orgasms
That night she grabbed me,
Convinced me to spend the night
Turns out she wasn’t a princess
At all

This dungeon is unbearable
I have to stop thinking
About women or my cock
I’m losing my shit
I can’t keep my mind off sex
Even if I try

We got chased by a goblin horde
We found a shitload of gold
The place is full
Of unique treasures,
But we got attacked by a spider
It was too big
And venomous
Had to leave it all behind

I heard the priestess
Who runs this brothel
Tell my friends that
My mind has a low libido
What the fuck does that mean?
My cock still works
I’m saddened by this world
I want to go home

I feel bad about the princess
Despite her murderous aims
I want to stop her from hunting me,
But as we are resting in town,
I catch the princess seducing our knight
She left my female friend naked and asleep
I also wanted a piece of that
I wish I didn’t have a dick

What’s wrong with this kingdom
Everyone is gay
No peace and quiet,
Just loads of fighters and wizards
So many fucking horses
I hate unicorns

There’s a group of adventurers
Talking shit about me
“He’s some kind of freak
With a sword and a shield”
“Calls himself the Captain”
“His face looks like a huge dick”
Do they see the stuff I use?
They are all going to die
I’ll take all of them,
Pile their corpses into the bushes
I can’t be arsed anymore
I don’t give a fuck

In this fantasy world,
Nobody is what they seem
I’m still some sort of hero,
But I feel like a prick

The kings are all the same
The lords are pompous
They all dress up like little kids,
Monsters in disguise
Their stupid servants look like animals,
A bunch of shitty turtles
Their faces don’t match their voice
They try to mimic nobility

My life is worth more
Than the crown I don’t wear,
Than my castle, my throne,
My riches, my bitches,
More than the aunts and uncles,
And all shit I don’t have

Those damn demons are rampaging
Through the scenic countryside
They shouldn’t be sleeping with
Nor killing peasants
Why, why did I have to come
On this crazy adventure?

We are scouting about
It’s getting way too dark
We hear a crackling sound
After a flash of light, we just know
Some demons are rushing to attack us
They are resistant to Bimbo’s fire
Kutinaira keeps shooting them with water
Some of the demons are imps,
They spit fireballs through their tiny mouths
Thordall’s robe catches on fire

Some demons are dead,
Others are running around
I kill a few with my steel
Podema has her holy words

This sexy demoness
Pulled my dick out
I bet it smelled like shit,
Haven’t showered in a week
Her nails scratched my skin
I screamed,
But for once I welcomed
The pain

Kutinaira and I are chasing down this demon,
But her unicorn just got knocked out
Some wind magic keeps the demon at bay
Now all it takes is to cut him down

A demon with a monstrous dick
Is preparing some heinous spell,
But our proficient knight
Swings her magic sword
I want some sexy demoness
To ride my cock

Oh boy, a giant demon
Almost chomped my head off
We were attacked by fucking demons
The sweetest part of our day

How long am I going to be stuck here
This is a crapload of monsters
Our four wizards are reliable
I’m one of the heroes
We keep ourselves entertained,
But there’s too much evil

Our fire mage Bimbo pulled me aside
He had caught me lusting after demons
While everybody else fought
“You need to snap out of it
You are becoming a piece of meat,
Some lonely pervert”
I’m not in the business
Of denying truths,
But I need some release
For this pain

I still get turned on
In the middle of fights,
Even when my cock
Keeps getting scratched

I only have a few extra gold,
But I buy Bimbo a special pizza
“I’m in love,” Bimbo tells me
“We are so much alike, you and I”
I almost choke
“Don’t tell me you have also
Caught the gay”
Bimbo chuckles,
A rare sight
In his miserable face
“No, that was a joke,” he says
“In truth, in never forgot
That woman with the golden voice”
I don’t know who he means
We’ve spent so much time
Wandering through dreams

I’m covered in blood
I grab a half-empty pot of ale
From the outside tables of a tavern
I plop down on the closest chair
I gulp down the ale
My wounds might get infected,
But there’s no pain,
And Thordall will pop up soon anyway

That dragon was a big fighter,
But we managed to take it out
I cut off one of its wings
And Bimbo’s fireballs took its head
I wish I could fly the dragon’s body
Up into the sky

The king’s trapped in his palace
As one of the princess’ slaves
She locked him up in her dungeon
They say he can’t escape
I don’t want anything to do
With that horny bitch

I tried to call my parents,
But these people don’t have phones
Our knight is having sex
With another female knight
After so many battles,
I’ll be a little whore
It’s all the same
I want a bunch of other folks
Who need what I need
I’m pretty good at parties,
But now a bunch of sex workers
Keep shouting at me
I don’t know what’s the matter
I can pay

I am at this kingdom
Because I can’t do it on my own
The king got enslaved,
These women keep messing with my cock
When I return to our room at the inn,
That one wizard called Khoru
Is balls deep in Oliveiro
Who’s on his hands and knees

I still feel bad
About that peasant girl,
And my lesbian knight,
And the sexy princess
In her pink bikini,
But it turns out
We haven’t run out of dope

The other day, while passing through the fields,
I noticed a woodcutter taking a break
His delicate young wife was sitting on a log
The three of us chatted for a while
They were ogling at me like hungry wolves,
Then talked about trading clothes,
Or just taking them off
They led me up a hill
And into a simple hut
The young wife pulled up her smock
Her skin was daisy white
She went on about her love for kinky shit
And what could be more kinky
Than to fuck a man’s tight-shut asshole
With her two hands and fingers
While he takes care of his own cock
My vision hadn’t cleared up,
But the woodcutter waited for his turn
I ended up filling the wife with my cum
The three of us drank mead on the floor

This older knight
Who’s half-crippled
Tries to seduce me
“I’ll call you son and adopt you,”
He says as he licks his lips
His name is Sivert
He’s very tall,
Thin and strong
He has big tits,
But I am not turned on by this

Khoru, our alchemist friend,
Is wearing a little brassiere
He pulls a little bit of skin from Oliveiro’s neck
For some perverted end

We’re at the whorehouse
I went for a half-wolf wench
Who stinks of shit
She thinks she’s special
Despite the thorough cock probing,
She’s just like the rest

Everyone’s having fun
Spilling loads of cum
I am a horned frog with a hundred legs
I'm a succubus without the boobs
It’s not that I don’t believe in love,
But this is better than despair

Our half-reptilian Thordall got sick of all the sex
The motherfucker turned his back and left

Regarding the elf Kutinaira,
I gave my cock to her
I wanted to self-destruct
What a lousy excuse
She kept kissing me ravenously
With her burning-hot lips
Her love was like a ghost,
Horny for millennia

Now I find that queenly elf
So hot that she burns
Her water magic keeps
This city safe from pains
She is wearing a robe
That I covered in saliva

After so many wars,
She’s gets to wipe my aching cock
I keep petting her hair
As she licks my sore head
I’m very pleased
With this ancient elf

Life is better
With another person
Kutinaira and I make love
It’s not a meaningless routine
Or an empty habit
I keep learning about this

I bothered to ask about Thordall
To some itinerant freelancers
Our old cleric,
All serious and stern,
Who nicknamed me ‘Reprobate’,
Returned home to a dead son
His daughter killed those goblins
In days they came back tenfold
They were about to rape her,
As goblins love to do,
When Thordall stopped them
The goblins murdered him
They gouged out his eyes
His daughter is safe
I’ll keep these news
To myself

There’s been an attack
On my favorite whorehouse,
By some marauding raiders
All the whores were raped,
Some were tortured to death,
Some were shot,
Some were disemboweled,
Some were beaten up and left bleeding
I can only think about what I saw
I came in rushing
Through that half-open door
I make bad jokes
About those kind girls
And their loving skin
And the violence
So I can sleep

The king died trying to escape
Our party was ambushed
By a bunch of guards
Sworn to the princess
They shot at our fire wizard,
Pierced through his brain
The princess is yelling at me
I can’t make out the words
You are way too far,
You horny bitch

Should we bother to resist?
My friend Bimbo got killed
With his back turned
How can we stay alive?
The princess is vicious
And a fucking pervert

She’ll turn me into one of her slaves
I’m sure her ladyship couldn’t wait
Until I rotted in some dungeon
So she could visit me at night
And shove white-hot lead balls
Up my ass

This evil cunt
Wouldn’t listen to me,
So I kept running away from her
We tried to hide in other towns
Why would I live in this fucked up world
I need to go home

My blood is boiling,
But I can’t act
I have to snap out of this
Guess I’ll just stand here
And wait for someone
To cut my fucking head off

Our elf Kutinaira shot some water bullets
Until a sneaky guard beheaded her
Oliveiro just stood there with impotent hands,
Without casting his wind magic
I want to plunge my sword through him,
And not because he’s gay

I recall that the alchemist pitched acid bombs
I still hear the princess casting spells
I can see the faces of her bodyguards
Frozen in fear
As I pounced on the bastards
And lopped off their heads

The princess hides in her castle,
Beyond a huge heap of dead guards
An army of adventurers,
Familiar faces and names,
Along with their unicorns
Bursts through the doors
She finds herself surrounded
Her smile drops
That horny idiot
She only wanted to rule
And fuck teens
But what do I know about love?
I left all my heart
With that peasant girl

Khoru is dying on the floor
Someone impaled him through the chest
For a moment I press the edge of my blade
Against my neck

Now a soldier is in charge
He can’t even cast spells
I demanded to be the king,
But they sold me into slavery

I recognize this one general
We saved one of his cousins
At least someone is grateful
My life as a slave is over
Now I’m gonna have to go
On other adventures

Our knight was initiated into some order
Didn’t say goodbye
Oliveiro killed himself,
So I got a new crew
I don’t want to learn your names
Until we have fought some monsters,
And gone into each other’s vaginas,
And sucked each other’s dicks
I’m sick of this dull ache
In my heart

I wanted to leave this all behind
Not forever, just until I could
Face the nightmares again
I needed to see my parents
They must miss the shit out of me
If I told them about this world,
They’d go nuts and scream
“Doesn’t that sound like a dangerous place?
Way more dangerous than Earth!”
I have no business in this world,
But it has unicorns,
And demon lords,
And perverted princesses,
And peasant girls
There are monsters still out there
To kill

A Digital Empire (GPT fueled poetry)

Link for the poem on my personal page, where it looks better

---

On Sunday afternoons
I fire up a grand strategy game
And I believe myself to be
Some long-forgotten king
That spawned a murderous dynasty
With a troubling amount of incest

Who am I kidding
It wasn’t just Sundays
I’ve spent entire months slaying
Purple dragons

I can’t sleep because insomnia
So I sit in my boxers
Load up some game
And entangle my brain
When I hear the morning birds
I keep playing for more hours

I know it’s a shameless question
But do you live vicariously through games?
I asked myself
For some fucking reason
I spent days cruising for prostitutes
In a previous 'GTA'
But I didn't run them over afterwards
That money was already filthy
As it waited in a bank vault
I just took photos of their pixelated asses
While I touched myself

There’s no new 'Grand Theft Auto'
They keep milking that 2013 one
For stupid teens
The term AAA these days
Is synonym with shit
I recall waiting for the next big game
To call me again
Nobody else could save the world
From the impending Apocalypse

I wasn’t into the Western one
I don’t want to stare for hours
At a horse’s ass

I want to kill hundreds of virtual humans
Because I can’t get away with murder
In real life

I will claim the Spanish throne
With the Ureña line
I’ll squash the rival claimants
And torture their mothers
I don’t care if you are my uncle
Or an estranged brother
I’m the ruthless fuck
Who conquered North Africa

I made my granddaughter
The Hellenistic queen of Andalusia
She was two years old
My mother smothered her in her sleep

I was badly wounded
In a jousting accident
My dick got gangrene
The doctor rubbed on me
A poultice made of shit

I wanted to be like King Leonidas
The father of Sparta
Especially those abs
But I went and died
With no clear successor
It’s Alexander all over again
Cleopatra’s lineage went back
To Ptolemy and Macedonia
She wasn’t black
You fucking commies

I wanted to own those new lands
So we built a bunch of colonies
Brought over loads of slaves
We would always be outnumbered
All those resources are being used
To boost the whole economy
Nothing can go wrong

The glimmer of infinite possibilities
I am a cruel god
I have drowned my universe
With boredom

I wish there were more Paradox games
Make one about current politics
I’d like to see how a bunch of soft Swedes
Turn self-castration into game mechanics

That bitch cheated on me
And left with the guy
I didn’t want to go outside
Nor change my underwear
I spent six months of real time
Playing ‘Football Manager’
Andreas Höhn was my captain
I don’t even like football

For the next year and a half
I waited for you to call
So I could hear you talk
About some other dick
You left him for a new guy
You left him for a new guy
You left him for a new guy
Until you got too old
I liked your tits
Your face was a rotten mess
Even strangers told me
Went out of their way
“Are you seriously with that girl?”
Fucking prosopagnosia
I thought it didn’t matter
But you betrayed me anyway

I have learned from my mistakes
Made some others bigger

I set up one of my guitar mics
To play board games with pandemic folks
When they run the games I like
I can’t be there
I wasn’t a fan of 'Eldritch Horror'
You rush from place to place
To venture into holes
But no dick is involved
I thought I remembered the rules
I rage quit

I dive into Steam
In search of new distractions
Many are half-finished
On Early Access
I haven’t completed most of my games
Some I haven’t started
An addiction requires newness
I’ll sell my soul for more sick joys

When a major update gets released
I don’t touch it for weeks
Because the mods haven’t updated
Hurry up, guys
I’m in despair

Everybody has a wish list
Except me
The only thing I ever wanted
Was being forgotten

I have watched entire games on YouTube
I didn’t want to bother playing them
I never touched 'The Last of Us'
I’m still mad about Joel

Your ideas are a cancer
You’re only making fans
Lose respect for you
And with good reason

I never forgave the 'Spore' debacle
When they fucked Will Wright’s ass
Those execs don’t play video games
They destroyed evolution
With emoticons and sneakers
Goddamn democracy

To take a break
I put on my VR headset
And sit in a virtual truck
I make deliveries throughout Europe
While I listen to talk radio
The foam cushioning gets moist
With my tears

One day I had a certain vision
In a virtual reality game
With extremely shitty graphics
I rushed into the enemy’s camp
But there were no guards
Just a band of killer unicorns

Hey, you
You’re finally awake
My ancestors were smiling at me
As I put together three hundred mods
Merged half of them
Now I can swing my sword
And shoot fireballs
With my VR hands
But I’ll end up drawing arrows
As I crouch in the dark
I have finally met my first wolf
The game crashed

I sat on the virtual couch
Of some German guy
Strangers kept coming by
One of them told us all about
The power of modern textures
On polygonal tits
I never came back
I should have thanked him
But I was too busy
Pulling on my dick

We did see all those tranny videos
On the German guy’s desktop
You didn’t close the window
Quick enough
But it’s alright
We all enjoy a dick
From time to time

I wish I never had to work
I’d just live in a video game

I have never had
The grandeur of an adventure
And I have been living on borrowed time
I read some article about nukes
About how they could end the Earth
I was like, “Yeah, right!”
I had to make it true
Found a lot of nukes for sale
My finger is hovering over the button

I started out with Guybrush Threepwood
It didn't get better than that
I still dream of the Caribbean
Never found that Big Whoop

I didn’t know who Hitler was
But I shot a horde of his minions
While some shitty robot voice
Told me about my health

I built movies
In 'Stunt Island'
I remember you guys
And the stuff you made

I spent my childhood
And my tween years
Wanting to be like Leonardo da Vinci
But I’m still a total asshole
I couldn’t draw the human figure
Those characters were stolen anyway
At least I also stole corpses

I wanted to make my own version
Of Tarn's 'Dwarf Fortress'
The Holy Grail
You could run 3D A* reliably
If your codebase wasn't a mess
He’s a mathematician
Didn't know shit about software architecture
He keeps adding weird stuff
Can’t even fix some bugs
I programmed my game for a while
Python is crap
Rust is cool
But I’m a lonely man
Went back to masturbating

I made a horror game
You play as an office worker
Living in your desk
Deformed clients come to demand
That you reset their passwords

I looked at the clock and realized
I wasted my entire life
But it was worthless anyway
I never cared for it to last
And I’m playing it through
With a broken controller
An old graphics card
And an unsupported processor
The text is in Polish

I’m just a kid inside
Never been anything else
Never will
I lose myself in daydreams
About princesses and knights
And mass murder
I’m as happy as a happy thing
I want to keep playing
For a while

Vagina Wonderland (GPT fueled poetry)

Link for this poem on my personal page, where it looks better

---

An actress that beautiful
Would never stare at me from up close
Even those in the porno industry
Unless they wanted to yell at me
Because I fucked something up
Or forgot to pay

In this dreary shithole we call life
I only got the ones I could get
And I was too scared to follow up
With the ones I wanted
(And who wanted me back
Because they were unhinged)
I could hear the clock ticking
Until they realized I was garbage
So now I just fuck the inside of my head
Instead

Why did I ever bother negotiating
Some lonely, humiliating sex
With those flesh and bone robots
That we are cursed to command?
Why the fuck did I ever try that
Instead of lusting in a dream
For women who know me well
And hold me with such love?

We wear decaying frames
That will rot in the ground
After some terminal disease
Don’t stick your dick
Or your tongue
In that gross shit

People touching me makes me feel
Like I’m getting raped
So keep those filthy, greasy hands
To yourself

I fuck the future, I fuck the past
Everytime I come online
I search for stunning VR girls
Who will fuck my brain in ways
That words can’t describe
I can just push a button
And let a stream of vagina
Wash over me in a wonderland

VR porn will lay siege to your brain
So you will no longer seek out physical sex
Your virtual sex will be
Better than the real thing

Fuck my brain, fuck the clock
Why does it need to think
About death and money and bills
When I can just rape my screen?

Now I just do my own
Lonely one-night stands
On my OLED display
Where I can fire up my precious porn
About nude-colored step-daughters
And naughtier step-mothers
Or lustful, chattering aunties

So many options for my pleasure
With those soft, sweat-covered foreheads
That smell like babies
They don't like to be kissed, but that’s alright
Their massive breasts sag with empty milk sacks
That are in no way filled with any kind of milk
They are just a collection of gelatinous proteins
That aren't even connected to their nipples
What they call nipples just get in the way
Like beads on a string
When I wire the nipples back
They don't vibrate at all
They just start jiggling randomly
Like two alien antennae

I'm fucking an infinite number
Of virtual breasts

She's naked and her tits are perky
My lips want to taste that pussy
My cunt wants to engulf her pussy
Wet, juicy cunt
I eat her pussy
I lick her pussy
I stick my tongue inside her pussy
I love pussy so much
That I'll fuck this pussy
Until it squirts its cum
That I'll lick up with my tongue
And put it inside my mouth
My cunt is tingling
All over my body
My cunt wants to have her pussy
Inside my cunt

It feels like I'm fucking the women
I watch for hours on end
And if they yell at me
To go fuck myself
(Because they know I'm garbage)
I can fire up my virtual womb
And hide in there

I can only be around those VR pornstars
I don't get to touch any real woman
If I did, I'd be the monster
Someone would stop me

When I masturbate to VR,
I feel like a wolf chasing deer
To kill them, and share their meat
To warm my belly at night
My brain wants to die
And die, and die
It wants to put its mouth on a vagina
That it knows doesn't exist
My cock gets sore
From using the hand masher
While behind the lenses
Someone else is inside her

Now I feel like a dirt-stained loser
(Because virtual reality porn
Has hijacked my brain)
But my cock is harder than ever
I keep reaching for the streams of
Tasteful VR vagina
That wash over me in wonderland

My cock is connected to the inside of my head
My cock is connected to the inside of my head
My cock is connected to the inside of my head

Imagine a world in which
Every day is your birthday,
And you get to blow out the candles
On your birthday cake,
Except that the cake is an ass
Inches away from your face

How many more polygons
Can I squeeze into my brain
Until it realizes the deceit?
The brain knows that it’s hallucinating
But believes it’s gone to a California mansion
Where you hear some staff members
Chilling in the pool

VR has hijacked evolution
Even worse than condoms could
Those aren’t real pussies, stupid brain
That woman would never want you

Most doll girls I used to see in VR
Didn’t have any animations at all
They just stood there
Without emotions nor faces
They looked like they were wearing wigs
Those tiny, faceless VR girls
Never paid attention to me
They loved me as much
As my asshole loves me
Or my crotch, or anyone’s butt

But now I can mix and match
Change the apartment for a car,
Turn the doll from bald to a redhead,
Add a glint of life in those facial balls,
Make her tits much smaller
I don't know what's with some models
And those humongous breasts
You can’t even see her face
(I imagine cloggy black milk
Dripping from the tumorous flesh)

You can fuck the ghost of a dead girlfriend
Or the ghost of a girlfriend
Who's more loyal to you

I’ve seen many dead people
As I’ve been poking around in cemeteries
They are nothing but tangled remains
Skeletal frame with eyeballs dangling
No feeling, no blood
Just corrupted DNA

I love to pretend
That I'm fucked in bed
By a Frankenstein goddess
I’ll start a cult
Where everyone will go
To worship this monster
I created

I now live in the false reality
That has stolen my sperm
And I think that the world is perfect
But my brain is obsessed
Thinking about how it would look
If my tits were smaller
If I was blind
If I was her
If she was him
If we had the same disease

I can load up famous actresses
Of the Hollywood kind,
And even from up close,
They look the part
I’m sure they would despise getting dressed up
For a pleasant Sunday afternoon
Only to end up engaging
In some sofa fun
Ask my dick if it cares about the morality
Of this brave new world
Morality was invented by brains
That now believe they are balls deep
In 90s Monica Bellucci
So I'll probably fuck this actress
Or that actress
I haven’t liked any of your movies
But I’ll enjoy this one anyway

Even our female hosts
Are not up for rough sex
They don't want a ripped-up body
They don't want any blood
So I feel like a filthy bastard
When I order some french toast
For their master

I used to have conversations with my brain
That always ended with us fistfighting
Now it’s a selfish prick
That only wants to fuck
The brains around it

That's it, the brain is now free
From the shackles of morality
It can now engage other brains
With just one desire:
To fuck everyone and everything
Like animals of every species

Throw your vibrators in a fish tank
A transparent box full of water
That one day will leak into the ocean
Where there are anime versions
Of giant floating balls
They call them whales
They are also fishes, probably
Other whales still fuck them

Have a drink of water
Pretend it's a balloon
And watch it fill with tiny sperm
Of a Japanese man

It's good that we have virtual reality
A better version of life
I can make a model of myself
And fuck him in the ass
Or have a virtual boyfriend
Programmed to appreciate my tits
Shove his dick inside me
Now I feel like a queen

I can't count
All the cum in my pussy
Left over from these virtual pornstars
It sprays out of me
Like from a hose
A lifetime of cum in a minute

I'm recording and mixing beats
Making my first solo album
All about fucking my brains
It’ll be my magnum opus

I'm going to fuck the inside of my head
Until my brain swells and bursts
And this room explodes
That's the last thing my brain hears
A catastrophe, a complete collapse
My cock falling off
A furious woman
Being dismembered

The world will end
Not with a bang
Not with a whimper
But with millions of sweaty men
Lifting their VR headsets
And shuffling awkwardly
With their pants around their ankles
To reach the tissues
Or any dirty sock at hand
To deposit the poo that
Always seems to come
At the wrong time

Make Me Rich (GPT fueled poetry)

Five days a week
And sometimes six
I get dragged out of sleep
If my chronic insomnia
Gave me a break
Then I gulp down my coffee
Because I'm also an addict
But just of coffee
And porn
Of the VR variety

I'm always angry, it's like
Someone kept slapping me
As I slept
If I managed to sleep at all
Because of fucking insomnia

As I trek my way to the office
With my legs, a train and a bus
I can feel the face of this world
As it presses against my shoes

It's not so much the trip
Nor the waste of time,
Of so many fucking hours
Doing meaningless shit
It's that I can't stand
Fucking apes

I wish they were rocks
I'm unable to stare straight ahead
At the unthinking screen
I don't know what to say
And I couldn't care less
When you open your mouths
The TV speaks

This body feels
Like a bag of cement
I spend eight hours
Holding my farts
And if I'm lucky
I'll get to sleep that night
Before the alarm rings

I must have been nineteen
After a month of my first job
Dealing with an Italian
Addicted to cocaine
And also some truck stuff
I quit
I walked to the edge of a cliff
I should have stepped off

I loved to write
But other writers make me sick
I don't want to attend
Writing themed gatherings
Meeting you was a mistake
I don't know why you write
I don't understand

When you present a book
You bring your entire families
And lots of friends
Because nobody would have cared
Otherwise

I wish you were all dead
To be honest
And maybe your stuff
Would stand by itself

Also I self-published two books
And they didn't sell shit
The money would barely cover
The trip to the office and back
But if I read them again
I would probably hate them
So whatever

I play the guitar
In the woods
That feels good at least
I don't know music theory
I don't want to talk to you either
Just because you also play the guitar
Don't you see I sat here to play
Leave me alone

I do feel despair
It's my consolation
The only thing
That's truly mine
So I work
And drink coffee
And masturbate

In a nearby park
I watch this world
And I have to laugh
I have to laugh
In this sick world
I've got to laugh

And if I could
I would live
Just on my own
I wouldn't see another face
For months
But that sounds
Like a whole lot of work

I don't care if billions of you struggle
And somehow you don't suffocate
I want to be rich
So I can walk around in a mansion
While I swing my dick

Whoever is reading
This fucking shit
You should have descended
From elephants
Or dolphins
Or octopi
Look at fucking primates
No wonder we do nothing else
Than sling shit around
And tear each other's faces off
It was never going to work
And one day
The bombs will go off

Step on landmines
You fucking apes

A Stupid Moth (GPT fueled poetry)

She made a noose out of a sheet
And hung herself in her room
As I walked in she was staring at her toes,
Fingers held tight in a vain attempt
To hold the world at bay

She used to whisper sweet things to me
Now she's laughing
To hear the echoes of her words
All around my head

A razor blade cut open her wrist
Her blood woke me up from a dream
So I took a piece of my soul
And staunched the flow

She collected all the pills she could find
To numb the pain and cease to think
She prepared herself a hot bath
To die in the night

The muzzle tasted metallic
As it dug into the roof of her mouth
Once she plunged the trigger
She felt her brain bursting apart

She took deep breaths of the fumes
As she lounged in her idling car
With the two-way radio off
She listened to the lonesome sounds

Once the train drew close
She drove her head down
Then just stood on the line
As the train pulled her off

She walked beyond the edge of a cliff
To spin in circles in the sun
And the world looked pretty and it all made sense
As her brain smashed against the rocks

I love the broken girls
I am drawn towards them like a moth
I keep bouncing on their skin
And see myself in their arms

If Only My Penis Were a Racket (GPT fueled poetry)

Gunpertina Vesperidova,
Andriya Shapaleva,
Vitorina Kumarenka,
Simina Kvitova.

I admired their diligence
And how hard they trained.
Success is ninety nine percent mental,
The other one percent physical.

So many things I can't understand fully,
And here we have this sport
Where beautiful women spend hours
Playing with sticks and balls.

Their hair fluttered behind them like wings.
Those legs seemed made of silk.
That way the players moved
Was mesmerizing.

Tennis is a great metaphor for life.
The tight outfits hugging fit bodies,
And the bouncing, firm tits,
They just added to it all.

Their backhand topspin,
A perfect shot
Right into my groin.
My dick became numb,
Making me faint.

I tried to follow other sports,
But I found them boring,
Or not that sexy.
They didn’t give me
That little bit of feeling.

As the players reached to their bosoms,
They talked of the time spent with friends,
And what they dreamed of:
Honeymoons at the beach,
Kissing their lovers,
Watching the sunrise,
Fucking on a balcony.

I found the spirit of the game very erotic,
Especially when the slavic girls
Uttered such moans.
They said that after a perfect game,
They wanted to make love.

Sweat dripped down their naked backs.
I needed to lick it up,
And suckle on those smooth shoulders
To drink from the source of their bliss.

The way they played,
The tips of their fingers
Would get very hot.
I hoped to be beaten off
By some female tennis players.

I tell myself all sorts of stories
About the nonsense I grow attached to,
But I was obsessed with tennis for months
Because those slavic girls made me twitchy.

If I didn’t have the brain of a minotaur,
I would be a single dad.
I would be building my home on the moon.
I would live on my farm with my beloved wife.

Oh well.
No one could love me
The way I am.