Walking Practice

by Dolki Min

You never know if one morning your planet will explode, breaking into hunks of rock floating in space with nary a fistful of oxygen for you to suck down. You should breathe it in while you can. Don’t be full of regret, like me. Regret isn’t a very enjoyable emotion.

To those who’ve gone through hell, stepping in shit or smelling puke will only make us laugh.

We’ll casually enjoy ourselves and part ways with no pressure or expectation. All we both need is a living masturbatory aid. All we think is that it would be nice to have a lump of flesh to hold close, rub lips, and mouth our sex organs without all the cumbersome formalities. To brush up against a lump of flesh with an assigned age and gender. Lump of flesh to lump of flesh. That’s all.

As a matter of fact, a woman I met three months ago had chanted, I love you, over and over while eating my ass. She cleaved to my palpitating shithole, turning it into an ear and lips to receive her love. Where on earth was her love going? Who could she have been calling out to, over and over? Did she have business with my small or large intestine? Perhaps she thought that if she screamed I love you between my pert parted cheeks, the words would echo back. I think she simply wanted to hear those words—I love you. I too want to hear words of love.

I’m sorry. Actually, that apology is a load of shit. It’s just a formality, like saying, “How are you?” I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I love you. I love you. I love you.

My body is t i r e d from d o i n g i t s b e s t today. We have a l o v e - h a t e —no, a love-h a t e - h a t e - h a t e —relationship, but if I am going to coax and cajole it i n t o p e g g i n g away again tomorrow, I m u s t t r e a t i t with the u t m o s t devotion. It’s hard to g e t i t t o w o r k if it starts to sulk.

Without monsters, how would they withstand the unrelenting futility of their days?

Know that if you aren’t crazy, at least once, there will come a time in your life when you simply cannot bear it. A time when it’s hard to tell exactly what trips your madness. I have some good news for you. I’ve safely made it through that time. As soon as the tides roll back, I can rebuild the sandcastle.

Criteria are like glass. As long as they are respected and held without dropping them, they’ll stay solid and won’t break.

Can you understand the agony of hating humans so much but shoving that hatred aside to look just like one? The desire to become a member of society always overpowers the shame of being embraced by their system.