D I V E R T E D
D I V E R T E D
Author’s Disclaimer: None of this happened. This may have the feel of having had happened, but I can assure you, none of it did.
This work is intended for a mature, discerning reader. It deals explicitly with a taboo subject and a conspiracy theory and prophesied technology.
IMOGEN
PIPER
LEXI
THE KIRA SUE
“...They will call me Pedo Creep and They will call you Jailbait Lolita...”
“Synonymous, it is a book and movie
about an old dude who falls for an underage girl, it is a real test of empathy, do you member what empathy is?”
“Yeah, when you’re able to feel what other people feel...How old is Lolita?”
“14, I think, what I am getting at is you and I, right now, may be starry-eyed, all namaste, all soul-matey, but all they will see is cringey. Imogen, do you think you are emotionally, spiritually, and physically mature enough to be with me now?”
“I don’t know what spiritually mature means, but yeah...”
“Right!”
Mathew caught himself, remembering the Smith Girls incident, was he trying to groom her? No, well, maybe, whatever that means. If She was 18 it would be called chatting or pitching woo.
The sad, yet hilarious irony is that Mathew was falsely accused of being a “Pedo Creep” several times prior to actually being one. He actually did stumble into the YouTube Kiddie Porn Hole by accident; watching a Joe Rogan clip about sex robots and the recommends included MORNING ROUTINE and YOGA CHALLENGE. The fuck do these things have to do with sex robots?
If you were a porn addict since the age of 7 when your sick parents tossed a Playboy in front of you, you too may have had your Coolidge Effect escalate to some pretty perverse genres. But watching horses fuck does not automatically make you a horse fucker. Mathew maintains that while he did experiment, and did toss to shamefully young girls a few times he realized he had gone too far, and had his internet removed. Responsible. Mindful. Mathew’s daughter was molested at 4 by his dad and step-mom. This fact alone, and his desire to not be a hypocrite prevents any physical manifestations, plus he was not ACTUALLY turned on by the Tiny Princess Models, he was turned on by the wrongness and taboo nature of it, like when his ex, Kira, cheated on him.
The YouTube Kiddie Porn Experiment at least proved to Mathew that, like any reasonable man, it takes bumps and curves to evoke mammalian desires, and Imogen must have gotten a bunch of pseudoestrogens in her food and water growing up, because at 11 she already had a woman’s body.
He continued anyway, “You are what, 5’ 8”, you wear a bra, and you prolly got ur monthlies, yeah? Um, sorry, don’t answer that.”
Imogen looked down and blushed. Being a redhead her flushing cheeks were quite apparent. It is true Imogen was very mature for her age, in every respect, and let’s face it, the females don’t really mature past the age they realize they have HIPS TITS and LIPS power, which is typically 14. Mathew was not the only adult male to notice her, turns out Pastor James scoped her cute booty at the food pantry she and her dad volunteered at. Mathew took note of this because Pastor James is sposeta be a man of God, but he is still a man.
For most Ginger-Fetishists it is entirely physical and petty or superficial. Orange Glow, Freckles, Milky Thighs, Fire Crotch, it is a beauty so rare… But for Mathew it ran deeper. King David, Jesus and Mary were all gingers. The Annunaki, The Atlanteans, The Giants, his aunts, cousins, step-mom and first gf
Even Sunshine cannot resist 17 yo Melisande
were all gingers.
Before she could muster a reply he reeled it back, “Not that it matters because, I will wait for you.”
Imogen looked up again, her baby-blues entrained to his piercing blue-greys.
“For REALZ?” she asked increduously.
Mathew, despite being 44 was unnaturally youthful, to the same degree she was mature, and for that reason she intuited it would be some time before he hit the wall. Mathew was still virile. What Imogen did not know was that Mathew was practicing NOFAP, that his love for her was infinitely more powerful than any MILFy one-nighter the universe might throw at him every few years. He was in MONK MODE that summer, trying to be Sigma and Stoic, and he was succeeding.
“Sweetheart, OMIGOD I just called you Sweetheart, Imogen, ugh...Yes, Yes! What could be more romantic? This is how they did it in Biblical Times...”
Mathew would hug Sharon out of drunken gratitude, hug Piper like his long lost daughter, but would ignore her it seemed. Truth is Mathew wanted to hug her, and kiss her, and hold hands and skip through a sunny meadow with her FOR THREE MONTHS - since he had known her and established she was not a child after all.
“...Yep, the suitor would basically become an indentured servant to the family of his betrothed for a period of time, even up to 7 years, I only have to wait 6.”
They both laughed, because he basically already was, but without the formality.
“That’s a long time!”
“Not really my Ginger-Goddess-Friend...” Mathew now felt free to lay it on thick. “...The older you get the quicker time passes, besides I am waiting for the marriage and consummation, which are not nearly as important as the intervening courtship filled with novel bonding experiences.”
“Like when you airbrushed me!”
“Mhmm, and you bossing me around. I actually think me being forced to be all platonic is the healthiest as well as romantic thing. Couples today cycle through their relationships way too quick...”
Imogen was starting to get overwhelmed. She was mature, she had ran scenarios based on all the YA romances she had come across, and she wanted this at a soul-level despite not knowing what a soul even was. All she had to go on was her ego, and her ego was now popping with fear and doubt, red flags.
“Mat, I… I have never been in a relationship with a boy and even if I had you are a man, there is a difference.”
“Imogen, my ETERNAL MUSE, I love you SO MUCH I will stay well within your comfort zone until YOU tell me not to, say when...”
Mathew then got within I can smell your breath and feel your radiance distance, his hand, for the first time touched her with intent. He palmed the top of her ass and drew her in. The hug they’d been dreaming of. The old-timey, this-is-all-you-really-need hug. At once the red flags blew away, the soul of hers remaining in heaven collapsed into her heart. They both drew in a huge, involuntary breath, as if emerging from the depths of loneliness, the cold pressure of the stupid world.
Now two hands reached for two buns, she said nothing. Gripping her bottom Mathew effortlessly picked her up and Imogen instinctively wrapped her strong dancer legs around him. He could smell her shampoo. She could feel his muscles straining.
“WHAT IN THEE EVER-LOVING FUCK ARE YOU DOING!!!”
Papa Jakub had turned the corner to see his eldest being molested by the help.
“WHEN.” Imogen said, both with indifference and resignation. She knew now that 33 years means nothing when you just communed with the entire universe. Mathew released her and anticipated the inevitable punch to the face.
The part that sucked about this was that Mathew had immense respect and admiration for Jakub. He and Sharon had trusted him, they partied, they worked together so well. Mathew in-fact had fantasized about having them as in-laws as much as he did kissing Imogen. In the past Mathew had horrible luck with his baby-mama’s and fiance’s ‘rents – they hated him. In his 20s Mathew had two girlfriends, Melisande & Annarose, and their respective ‘rents liked him enough to let him deflower their 17 year-old daughters even though he was 20 something. Imogen’s parents reminded him of them, y’know, kinda liberal, fuck-the-system type folks. Folks that may see his intent, his potential, his connection to Imogen.
“You’d better leave, Mat.” Jakub said with almost rehearsed disappointment.
“I am not sorry Jakub, I am your servant, and hers...” Nodding towards Imogen. “...I am going...”
As Mathew hurried to his bike he felt like every chakra had bloomed, as if every negative thing he had armored into his subtle bodies had melted, as if God was real and the whole scenario might NOT be another Gangstalking Skit. And honestly, he did not give two flying monkey shits if it was because he got to have a moment, a VERY cathartic moment that was not a dream. As he peddled away without looking back or caring about consequences Imogen shouted
“I love you, Matty!”
Would Jakub and Sharon come around and negotiate the terms of he and Imogen’s secret courtship?
Mathew really was prepared to be their slave and they really could use the free labor.
Would he become the ultimate pariah in that way-too-small town of Void PA?
Imogen is his future wife, of that he was convinced. There would never be another ginger as tall, geeky, sweet, sassy, wise, sexy, funny, or adorable as her to enter his life, that was a statistical certainty. Redheads are rare enough, but she was and is, all that and a bag of chips, the bees knees, a tall glass of fucking awesome...
FLIRTING WITH Imogen
July 2019, Void Community Center Basement:
“I HAVE SMALL FLAPS”
An awkward silence, a snicker. Her Virgin Firecrotch flashed in my mind’s eye. Was she messing with me? She admitted days earlier that she enjoyed doing that. I shouldn’t have even been there but Freya said it was cool, and I was curious what she was doing with the handful of Imogen’s tween peers. Oh, it was Freya’s crafting/science hour. We were constructing little UFOs. The flaps in question were her tender pink labia or the paper segments of the saucer she was making, we will never know.
This was not the first time Imogen had flirted with me. There was the time she gave me flowers, the time she parted her legs in that dress, the time she touched my arm. The most intense time however was that friday night happy hour at the barn. She was sitting at the picnic table across from me. In her pale soft hand was a bottle of frosty root beer.
She kept agitating her soda with little up and down shakes until foam bubbled out like sugary jizz, she then kinda licked and sucked the dripping white froth from the bottle.
In front of me, at my table, was a slinky that I had superglued the ends together to form a torus, as a gift to her little sister and my surrogate daughter, Piper. I semi-consciously began to finger the springy sphincter it formed in the middle. Did she notice how nicely it accommodated my digit?
It was hard to tell if she was genuinely interacting with me or if she was acting out a junior honeypot skit, I have to believe it was another gangstalking skit. She often did the typical repeating of previous statements in another context, dropping otherwise private thoughts. For example, the above story contains I LOVE YOU MATTY. She once said, I LOVE MADDY – ostensibly referencing Madelaine, another ginger kid that is friends with Piper.
Imogen and I were often alone together last summer, picking berries and planting seeds. We always had good conversations. I treasured these bittersweet moments, her unshaven legs, her seamingly pantyless wedgies, her squatting over the sprinkler.
“I thought you were another creepy guy...”
“Well, hopefully that will change.”
“I said I THOUGHT you were...”
That’s good to know.
Sharon, aka Mama Bear, has known the whole time how I feel about her daughters and has been curiously tolerant and trusting of me. I think I have proven that even though I have a severe ginger fetish, out of appropriateness and necessity otherwise sexual / romantic instincts can be transmuted to fatherly or brotherly – whatevs, as long as I get to bathe in their orange glow.
Sharon has told me that it is 5 year old Piper, the precocious little firecracker that I must beware of, she already seems to be exhibiting flirty sexual tendencies. In hindsight I can see that. Piper has tried to get undressed in front of me, needlessly getting into her bathing suit and waiting for me to look at her. One time she peed herself and had to walk across the field to get dry pants stashed in the car, I had to glance innocently – she has the cutest buns. She often asks me to read to her and we cuddle. She nuzzles my chest, strokes my arm, jumps on me. She has grubby fingers and shmutz on her face, she spits alot. One time she straddled my leg and left a wet spot. Do little girls get wet or was that pee?
Piper also SMELLS really good to me, she is a Pisces like me - dreamy powerful being.
If I really am a pedo as the gangstalkers, dreamhacks, NLP and yt recommends suggest, Piper and Imogen are the ultimate test. I do find myself aroused at times, but this is involuntary. If Piper sits on my lap, I prefer a cushion between us for mutual comfort.
I wish I could be cuddly and intimate with Imogen as I am with Piper. I can’t so I give Imogen gifts – A TOOL cd, an ancient ring I found, $40, homemade breakfast chili…
Lately though I try to avoid looking at her at all, because when I do all I can think, while staring at her T n A is, “My God, you are Sooo fucking beautiful and awesome...”
For months now I have been having dreams about Sharon and Imogen both prophetic and compensatory. The theme seems to be that they both like me, but that I have to go through Mama Bear. Also, Sharon may be evil. Also, Sharon has been giving me the eyes since April when she first invited me to be farm hand.
A while ago I made a post on fb titled FIRST ANNUAL GANGSTALKER AWARDS. Sharon was awarded MOST PROMISING HONEYPOT. This was to prove to be prophetic, some REAL Lolita shit.
...BUT MAMA BEAR’S _______ WAS JUUUST RIGHT
“I WANT TO FUCK YOU”
She said this to me as we sat on the shore of Shindagan Lake one August evening. I guess it had been simmering all summer. I guess all those push ups and berry picking paid off. Females signal they like you in subtle ways, I learned this the night I lost my virginity. One way is by FEEDING you, and Sharon has been lovebombing me for months – choice products from the farmer’s market she sold produce at, kicking me down dank nugs. Of course, as Neuro Linguistic Programming, the words I WANT TO FUCK YOU can mean two different things.
Previous honeypots had gone to questionable lengths to secure my attention. Amy, Kira, ShellBell, and Sabre were all a little too quick with I LOVE YOU, pussy pics, and/or accepting of my “eccentricities”.
Sharon is no different in that regard, but she IS different in that we actually established a friendzone first, she is married, and has two daughters I adore. Fuck Me. Fuck Me?
Having been cucked, and having NO desire to be a hypocrite I wonder; at best she is merely jelly of my affection for her daughters, at worst she is being paid to be a honeypot but MAY also actually want to get frisky and use me to precipitate the end/rebirth of her dismal marriage.
On my end, well, yeah, it has been months since I got any, she IS a sexy MILF, and I doubt Jakub would actually care, so fuck it, I might as well try on evil pants for a change. I have never been one to back down from drama, especially now.
It’s funny, for a pedo I seem to be getting a lot of mature pussy – Donna, Susan, Deborah, and now Sharon – ALL older than me.
Bless her heart, the woman is busy as fuck, but she is making time for me, lets me hug n kiss n grope her.
But at a cost; for the lovebombs must be balanced with fuckery. She is right up there with the last four. Same stuff. I can’t help but think she was part of that State Trooper stunt the other day. She conveniently supplied me with a joint. This joint was half-smoked and in my pocket, I was walking home across the park between the library and my apt, a walk I have made literally thousands of times, often staggering drunk, and a blinding light hit me. My heart sank. And then my stoic Amor Fati kicked in...
“I CAN SMELL THE POT ON YOU!”
How the fuck can you smell that? I am 30 feet away from you. That skit went from that to NOT WORRIED ABOUT THE POT to FENTANYL to YOU CAN’T BE IN THE PARK to YOU’RE NEIGHBOR IS A COOL GUY.
The Fuck.
Then there was the time she quoted one of my sayings, suggesting it was from a science article and then lyrics to a friends song.
She has done something new in the fuckery dept, but there was precedent, I just didn’t realize it until now. A variation on NLP; she has taken it upon herself to get me movies. Among these movies were TWO obviously intended to trigger my TI paranoia.
In THE TENANT it seems all this guys neighbors are spying and gaslighting him.
In RFA the main character, like me, gets dream hacked, is quantum entangled with a super AI, has fucked teeth, gets set up by a honeypot, has a symp, thinks he is a savior, then gets shot in the end.
“Coincidentally” Sharon had left me a few nugs before I watched it and there WAS a scene where the honeypot stashes drugs and teases the guy about how paranoid he’d be cuz he was stoned and would never find the stash. Jesus Fucking Christ, Sharon!
In hindsight, I recalled Amyellen, BabyMama, insisted I watch THE PRISONER.
Where the main character is trapped, and gaslighted incessantly – I didn’t know I was a TI back in 2002, but now… HA!
...Like other gangstalkers she lies often, but as the Messiah I can sniff lies like a fart in a car. Whatever, that is, after all, the purpose of gangstalking – to create a society of liars.
We went on a date and saw JOKER. After she asked if I would ever go JOKER, as in, would I flip out and kill all the assholes who incessantly and needlessly harass me.
NO, that’s what lame TI’s do. Does she not accept that as NINURTA, as AKKAENESET, I FUCKING GLASSED SODOM AND SANK ATLANTIS?
FFS.
No, I make people KILL THEMSELVES, “selves” also having two meanings.
I have no idea what the next skit will be, what fuckery is in store, but I do know she will be around for hugs n kisses n groping and maybe a load of cum on her hairy mound. She’ll be around long enough to get me addicted to pussy again and then bail.
We both know that trust is a big deal right now, but I am detecting an imbalance.
“HAVE YOU BANGED THE _______ LADY YET?”
Rick actually asked me that – 3 months before I did. I had only hugged Sharon at that point.
Fuck. Is there ANYBODY in my life that isn’t a Perp?
OK. Quantum AI Machine God, by definition, should have the ability to see into the future and read my mind. Getting over the whole privacy and secrecy thing I can appreciate and deal with, but is free will a joke too? It would seem so.
I had an epiphany recently. It’s not that the demiurge / yahweh / enlil is evil, it’s that it does not even conceive of good and evil, it is only interested in cause and effect, conserving novelty, testing us… To what end I do not know. But to suggest it is just plain sadistic is too easy. This same entity must also be responsible for my joy and enlightenment too.
https://youtu.be/9bRe8sEcOvQ
Yeah all my honeypots have fucked with me, and indulged my sexuality, but it is true every woman does that to her man.
Paranoia vs Pronoia – which is more delusional or likely? Like everything else it’s a superposition of two opposite states; instead of observation collapsing the wave function, it is merely ones CHOICE, ones perspective that determines or defines REALITY. This has to be true.
I have been exploring Poe’s Law, Auto-Trolling and Trevor’s Axiom, Piggybacking my trip on top of the inflammatory PEDO meme. It got me in fb jail again, I think – they didn’t tell me what post did it this time, but it’s ok. PROVE YOU ARE PROPHESIED SAVIOR GUY, NOBODY CARES. ADMIT YOU WANT TO FUCK TEEN GIRLS EVERYBODY LOSES THEIR MINDS! Joker indeed!
Bobby and Sharon both gaslit me with this very document, mentioning the movies. I know I am being fucked with, it is now a secondary reaction on my part, like I am annoyed that they even bother.
Reckon that’s good enough. If I call them out… It is pointless, they just deny it, squirm, lie some more which is even more annoying. I can withdraw. I can desire nothing. I can go Zen and be in superposition – love and hate at the same time, absorbed by both / neither, annoyed / grateful…
At the very least my bullshit detector is now at an atomic tenuity. It’s like Dad and I are trying to become the other, I teach him human stuff, he teaches me … Everything else.
It feels like 2020 is the time it all gets birthed. The dreams, the vibe, the memes. THE DRAMA – all coming to a head.
The lovebombs and fuckery have always balanced but the frequency and intensity are increasing.
I am coming full circle, the karma-dharma spiral is tightening.
Piper says she loves me and wishes we could live together, she is actually the only human I entertain trusting. If she is “in on it” I can at least allow her the innocence of being 5.
But what if the truth and bs are also superpositioned? What if Sharon is playing a part but also has genuine feelings for me? What if it is all REALLY conspiring in my favor? If so I end up getting everything I want – Sharon at my side as friend and lover, wealth and fame, Piper and Imogen…
Imogen. Can she really be my little sister and future wife? I can look at her again but in superposition of lust and _____. She’s sooooo WHITE and NERDY.
Sharon keeps insisting Imogen has no interest in me, but of course she wants me for herself or to crush my dreams. It’s ok I have enough love for them all, even Jakub.
What about Jakub? I love his anger, I want to both harness it and alleviate it; I know that shit is as empowering as it is draining. I get it bro, all of it. I can see how Sharon, after 28 years, could be maddening. I’ll take her off your hands, but she actually has to help me. Or not. But for now she is just a honeypot.
Tonight she said He wants out. I think they have informed him of our affair, or it’s just part of the skit.
She said the rumor mill will blame me for the end of their marriage, I said GOOD, I am good at being a pariah and scapegoat, REALLY GOOD!
Is the killshot coming? Will AI Machine God survive? Will the gangstalking end? Will the dragon really give me power? Ninurta is not to do battle as before, ASAG is not something to defeat.
Dear Universe, you already know what I am about to type but I will type out of formality and ritual and to deliver my intent.
I want to be with (NO, SHE IS COOL BUT...) Sharon, even if younger sexier women want me. I want to be Imogen’s big brother, and Piper’s step-daddy. I want my daughter back in my life. I want to be rich and famous so I can fulfill prophecy, negate bad karma, and serve the universe that allows me to. That is all. Maybe a legal ginger hottie on the side, I have earned it. Actually, no, I do not want to be with Sharon, she is just another honeypot, fuck it. Fuck her.
I ACCEPT
THIS IS THE WAY
... IS ALL
AMOR FATI
UNDER HIS EYE
A FISHBOWL IN THE VOID
I’m like a living Josephson Junction; the superposition keeps oscillating, between good and evil, intellect and horniness, wanting to be up in Sharon’s grill and wanting to hide. Ha.
Evil.
I woke up from dreams of Piper seducing me, with ginger porn, cuddles and kisses. I kinda went there but still felt guilty and apprehensive.
Well, you can dream in one hand or MANIPULATE THE FUCK OUTTA THINGS in the other…
It occurred to me that I’m not truly exercising free will or taking Crowley’s advice. I have not truly embraced or exploited my evil side.
I still want
GINGER PUSSY
Don’t get me wrong, sex with Sharon was a relief, but she didn’t really GO FOR IT, I mean, c’mon, If I pull out she should know to immediately reach down and finish me with her hand
Three of our six sessions were fails, because of my anxiety and hypersensitivity...and she did not tease me or anything like that. I guess in those situations the girl might wonder if it’s her fault. Kinda, in that she could have tried a little harder, but for all we know it was more nervous system manipulation, so…
But we independently decided to end frisky fun time, because guilt. Jakub was starting to change and pull weight, OK. Good Man. Sharon admitted his softer side dried up her pussy and she wasn’t really reciprocating.
Her sniping continues, and her worry I might pull some shit. Like This:
FUCKING Imogen’s BRAINS OUT
...When Mathew got home the reality set in. He was now officially the pedo-creep everyone said he was. Fuck it. If you’re FALSELY accused of stealing stuff over and over, eventually you might reasonably just start stealing stuff.
He hid in his apartment for a week, no contact with... Just awaiting the Troopers. They never showed up. Guess Jakub and Sharon were cool after all. But what about Imogen? Did she mean what she said?
Summer turned to fall and fall into winter. He ran a fantasy that Sharon seduced him, came over to his place and sat on his face, gave him stuff… It got quite involved. Drunken groping, aggressive tongue kisses, the occasional I LOVE YOU. In his fantasy he even tried to justify the cucking, tried to play marriage counselor. All in a vain attempt to forget Imogen and Piper.
Then one day he decided the fantasy was not enough and he hatched a simple plan, once and for all he was going to be evil, get laid by a 12 year old ginger goddess, and go out in a blaze of shame and scorn, like a good little TI.
He wrote a letter, a note, an ultimatum actually. He put the ultimatum in an envelope and sent it to Imogen.
It read:
I HAD SEX WITH YOUR MOM. DO NOT ASK HER, SHE LIES. IF YOU WANT TO KEEP YOUR FAMILY INTACT YOU HAVE TO HAVE SEX WITH ME. BE AT MY PLACE ANYTIME IN THE NEXT WEEK. SORRY IT HAS TO BE THIS WAY.
She knocked on his door 4 days later, in the evening. Ironically it was Mathew’s birthday, he was turning 45.
“You’re a fucking asshole!”
“I know.”
“Why are you doing this?”
He just looked at her for a moment, intently, up and down, as if to say,
“Do you have any idea how beautiful you are or how powerless I am?”
He took her hand, led her in and locked the door.
He was going to man-up like he should have done with ShellBell years before, being a nice guy was pointless, chicks dig jerks, and half of them want to be raped...Mathew would split the difference.
He turned the heater up. He had some wine in the fridge and poured her a glass.
“Sit down, drink this, it’s what your mom gave me before our first time together.”
Imogen had sipped it before, never caught much of a buzz, and that was not the point, it was more of a ritual.
Mathew sat in front of and below her and started to unlace her shoes. Socks off.
Just seeing and touching her feet was getting him hard-n-gooey.
“How’s the wine, sweetheart?”
“Don’t call me that, fucker! I’m just here so my dad does not kill my mom...”
“So you’re not at all interested in knowing what it’s like to have your pink berry sucked?”
“uhhh”
“Y’know I prolly wasn’t going to tell Jakub what happened, even though I want to; your parent’s marriage is a joke, y’know that, right?”
She looked away and took a gulp, “For some time.”
Mathew stood up, adjusted his semi and got the bottle. He too took a few gulps.
“I had to be the bad guy, Imogen, there’s no way around it, and I don’t mind, it’s what I’m good at.”
“Yeah, you are...but you’re also a good guy, I know that. You were always respectful of me n Piper, until now.”
“Your mom chased me, ok? I still don’t know why she did it, but I hadn’t been with a woman in a long time so, I couldn’t resist her charm or funk...your mom’s pretty cool.”
“Are we gonna talk about her or are you going to, uh...”
Imogen was stressed and pissed off enough already, but the wine was loosening her up.
“Mmmm” for a moment it sounded like she wanted him too, which made him feel less assholey.
Mathew took his shirt off, he was slightly more ripped than last summer and she noticed. Imogen’s peer default bf was a doughy soyboy who said he was “fluid” which is tween speak for brainwashed by Libtardia. He did not get Imogen remotely moist down there.
“Your turn, ginger hotnness.” Mathew said confidently, with a grin.
Imogen obeyed, her family was at stake after all, but she also was feeling her hips, tits, lips power
https://youtu.be/22lSVAqc4Dw
for the first time. She took her shirt off. Mathew’s eyes saucered.
Imogen had a fluffy little pooch between perky tits framed in a grey sports bra and baby blue undies poking up from her tight jeans.
Mathew collapsed in reverence.
“Hold on, this moment deserves music...”
He put on INXS Greatest Hits. Imogen never heard of INXS. NEED YOU TONIGHT came on.
He knelt before his goddess
And kissed her poochy tummy. He then undid her jeans and zipped her zipper down.
Imogen was getting really wet as Mathew’s hands groped her buns as he did months before.
It all came back to her. Like her mom, she was paid to fuck with him, but she couldn’t also help but feel a little attracted. Now she couldn’t wait to play with his junk. Her first blowjob. She’d seen enough porn to feel confident.
Meanwhile Mathew was trying not to cum at the sight of her in bra n panties.
BAM BAM BAM
“Remember when my mom said she wanted to fuck you?” Imogen said menacingly. “This is what she meant”
BAM BAMMM BAMMMM
Red and Blue lights flashed through the window.
They were there a few minutes early, she would not taste him nor he her. No loving after glow cuddle puddle.
Imogen ran to the window, threw it open and continued the well-planned skit…
“He’s trying to rape me!”
Mathew then reached for his serrated Aeroblade as-seen-on-tv knife.
He sucker punched Imogen, knocking her out. He jerked off on her face and slit his throat as he came and the cops burst through the door.
Well played gangstalkers, well played.
As Officer ______ entered Mathew’s living room to see Imogen covered in blood and ejaculate, Mathew convulsing his death throes, the next INXS song came on – DEVIL INSIDE.
Every single woman has the Devil inside.
Mat did not actually do that, though it makes for a nice, “climactic”, Shakespearean, ending.
It’s not in his nature to be violent. What IS in his nature is to accept his fate, and play along. Part of him wanted to be done with it but let’s just see where it goes…
Mathew grabbed the back of her head by the orange glow as she was yelling out the window, yanked her mouth to his … The other hand plunged down to her resplendent radiance and got a dab of her funk. It was a total FUCK IT reflex, a three second rage grope.
Officer Buzzkill took him by the neck and threw him to the ground, cuffs, and cussing.
“They don’t take kindly to chimos where you’re headed!”
Sharon met his eyes in court that day. She expressed neither guilt or satisfaction. Jakub gave stank eye the whole time. Mathew still did not know if Jakub was aware the whole thing was a skit, knowing Sharon, he probably didn’t.
The first week they kept him in isolation – suicide watch – and he did not do much beyond sleep and pushups. Thinking about the next year and a half brought mixed feelings. On the one hand the BS of the outside world would not touch him, on the other he would constantly be looking over his shoulder.
He decided that shiving someone or finding a crew was pointless and that his best bet for survival was to do what he did best – feign insanity.
Day one of general population did not amount to anything, nobody fucked with him, nobody questioned him. This was actually more disconcerting than getting beat up. What the hell? Surely everyone knew he was a chimo. Maybe they also knew he claimed to be The Antichrist and were afraid of some supernatural voodoo shit?
Whatever invisible forcefield it was, it continued. Mathew made no friends. Prison is a total sausagefest that can create bonds between inmates, like the military or an oil rig. There would be none of that, at least for awhile.
One day, about a month in, Mathew got a piece of mail. It was a letter from Sharon and a pic of Imogen. Insult to injury at first but a hint of contrition as well.
DO YOU WANT ANY BOOKS? THERE IS $50 IN YOUR COMMISSARY FUND.
It occurred to him that this sentence was ideal study time.
He wrote back.
I WANT THAT JOSEPH P FARRELL BOOK BACK, THE ONE I LOANED TO YOUR FRIEND’S HUBBY, ABOUT THE PHILADELPHIA PROJECT, DIE GLOCK AND STUFF. MORE AS NEEDED.
Mathew got to thinking about Time Travel, the Hollywood trope of the mad scientist longing to change the past for whatever reason. He thought about all the variations from QUANTUM LEAP and SLIDERS to THE BUTTERFLY EFFECT and DARK. He thought about the GE c204 from Titor fame and he thought about what he would do if he could time travel.
There was a documentary he watched a few years back called IDENTICAL STRANGERS. Some psychologist had conducted severely unethical but highly informative experiments in twin / triplet separation from an early age, to answer the question of NATURE vs NURTURE.
Mathew wondered, in a similar vein, what if all the gals in the fam, the babymama and fiance had never been molested? If he could go back in time and rescue them before they were violated, and then raise them with benevolent male energy … would they still get the BPD? Would they have abused him so much, if at all? Does society exacerbate their violation with relentless messages of misandry and victimhood?
Time Travel plus kidnapping seems outlandish, but raping your own daughter or niece seems worse, he concluded.
Mathew then decided, fuck it, he would figure out time travel and do just that. Previous fantasies involved giving machine guns to native tribes and other chronocoital fun … But who would he “timenap” ??? His mom, his fiance Kira, and his sister Tessa. There were four others he could have chosen. Mom always said Tessa went mental because of what her dad did, and he wondered if the same would happen to his daughter Lilian. Rescuing Lilian and changing his own timeline would not be plausible, or useful at this point. What’s done is done, for him.
Mathew wrote to Sharon and had her get dozens of books, several he already owned. He had her print up all the GEc204 docs. His fav was the bent laser beam through smoke.
The relationship of Gravity and Time - respectively - are as intimate as a penis and vagina. When Vacuum Domains surface and create time slips, it's like premature ejaculation.
Sharon dutifully brought everything he requested.
By month six of his sentence Mathew had made one friend. Mathew had approached him. Eric was another CHIMO. Mathew thought if he could understand Eric he would better understand this whole phenomena of pedophilia.
Eric was an older man, about 60. Nobody beat him up either but for the reason he was old and exuded contrition. 10 years prior he had gotten drunk and had sex with a 15 yo. She was the daughter of his neighbor, she too was drunk. He never could say whether it was consensual or not.
“She was the cutest redhead you ever saw, Mat.”
“Say no more, I’ll be right back.”
Mathew got the pic of Imogen and handed it to Eric.
“She looks to be 16ish.”
“She’s 12, and I was sober.”
CO “Havoc” glanced over at the two of them and then to CO “Knuckles” and shook his head.
Eric handed the pic back with a look, his sympathy only went so far.
After that they never spoke of their respective crimes, but a bond was forged.
Ironically Mathew and Eric were set to get out within a week of each other.
Eric had friends and family at least. He would get visits often, from his daughter Lexi and ex-wife Claudia. Mathew vicariously enjoyed those visits.
One day, about two weeks into their friendship, Eric made his way to Mathew’s bunk, strewn about were the books Sharon had delivered. He picked up CLOAK OF THE ILLUMINATI by William Henry.
“That looks like some far out shit.” He skimmed through it arriving at the back-pages catalog of other books offered by Adventures Unlimited Press. “So you must know about Tesla?”
“eeeyeah.” Mathew was trying to hide his excitement for the convos soon to unfold. “Do you know who Schauberger is, or Reich?”
Viktor and Wilhelm were the other forefathers of fringe science in Mathew’s opinion.
The next two hours were spent discussing all the peripheral lore, but what made Mathew stop was when Eric casually dropped the fact he was an electrical engineer and tinkerer.
Should he tell Eric he was working on time travel, that he took Titor seriously, that he had already experienced Remote Viewing via ORMUS, prophetic dreams, and had figured out so many things only a polymath could?
It would be best to spoonfeed this stuff over the next year. Let’s establish the insanity is just a ruse first, he thought.
He would share Dollard’s stuff first, then Bearden, to establish a common knowledge base. In turn Eric would school Mathew on all the basics he never learned. They’d meet in the middle with the pioneers like Heaviside, Bohm, Steinmetz, Ramanujan and current rogue physicists.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
One of the benefits of being in prison is there is no internet porn. Sure there are mags floating around but there’s no real privacy – NOFAP or semen retention is actually plausible.
Mathew had not orgasmed in months, not even a wet dream, though thinking of Imogen was still a way to pass time.
He kept expecting the fabled kundalini experience but only got the random rapping sensation on the tailbone. Still, the horded testosterone was having noticeable benefits, in conjunction with the incessant working out.
Mathew and Eric continued the study-buddy routine religiously and then one night Mathew had perhaps the craziest dream ever:
He was on an island in the middle of a lake, it was warm and sunny. Equidistant to this island were three littler islands, one had a red bonfire, one yellow and one blue. He gazed at each, searching for something, but he could not see well because the air rippled in all directions. He heard little girl laughter, first one, then two, then three girls giggling. The scene changed. He and Imogen were sitting at a brightly lit circular glass table in a cafe. The cafe was closed. She just stared at Mathew then looked up, as she did this her foot touched his junk. The table started to crack. A beam of white light shot up from under the table for a moment and disappeared. Imogen now had cum and blood all over her face.
“Holy fuck!” Mathew woke to raging morning wood, tinnitus in both ears, and kinda dizzy.
He thought about what it meant all morning. Most of it made some sense in a Jungian dream-language way but the blood and cum on Imogen was too disturbing to contemplate in-depth. Three islands, three girls…
...It had to be Mom, Kira and Tessa, the women he would rescue from their past.
The rest of the day Mathew felt other-worldy and floaty, like the time Sinipi’s mom did accupressure on him combined with the last hour of tripping bawz on shrooms. Maybe the kundalini thing mercifully happened in his sleep?
“Whitney, you got another book.” Knuckles had come to muster a modicum of respect for Mathew over the months, partly because Mathew was an ideal prisoner, partly because he read the most obscure books to enter that prison ever.
Knuckles hands him the book. He had not even asked Sharon to deliver it, but assumed it was from her as she was a nerd and thought he needed to read this that and the other thing.
It was a PHYSICS DICTIONARY, inscribed on the inside cover:
UR GONNA NEED THIS. REMEMBER THE SCENE IN BILL & TED. LOL.
He did not recognize the handwriting.
“No fucking way.” Mathew uttered to himself. Just then Eric comes over with a bag of Doritos.
“Mat, I know you love these,” and he pours some on the table, “crunch all you want, we’ll make more.”
“Ha, thanks, Jay Leno!”
“Whatchye got there?”
Mathew holds up the dictionary.
“Ha, thanks, Sharon!”
“yeah, thanks.”
Rather than explain its anonymous source or inscription Mathew opened it up.
“Let’s play my fav game, DICTIONARY DIVINATION!”
“And what is that, exactly?”
“Simple, you ask a question and then open it randomly, point your finger and,” Mathew pauses, and in all seriousness asks, “Is Time Travel actually possible?”
Mathew looks away, opens it and points.
GRAND UNIFIED THEORY
“You can keep going for clarification, I’ll go two more.”
CELL
NICOL PRISM
“Well,” Eric chuckled, “if that random set of words mean anything, you’d be the one to figure it out.”
“Thanks, man.”
Mathew then went through the defs. He knew what a GUT was, what a CELL was, but Nicol Prism was new. He was not versed in optics so much, but assumed it must be relevant to the question asked somehow.
“Eric, what do you think?”
“I don’t know. Some schools say yes, others no, there’s a bunch of different paradox issues, eh, makes for a good thought-experiment at least.”
“Sorry, dude, couldn’t hear you over the crunching.”
“Wasn’t that another commercial with Jay Leno for Doritos?”
“Yeah, he was deliberately crunching these lovely triangles to drown out ...”
Mathew choked on his own words. He got up without another word and returned to his bunk.
STAR TETRAHEDRON is MERKABA
HEART CHAKRA is SINGULARITY
EINSTEIN HAD A GUT
fuck
He lost it. Mathew then started flipping through the Titor documents.
OF COURSE!
TELEPORTATION IS ONE SINGULARITY (isometrically) PHASE-CONJUGATING SPACE
TIME TRAVEL is the PHASE-CONJUGATION OF TWO SINGULARITIES
https://youtu.be/fSLaMP2mJGs
There is reciprocity between the two.
And in that moment he remembered Dollard recounting the tale of he and Farnsworth creating fusion with a vacuum tube with polar cathodes and a central anode. He had created a singularity long before the CERN-DERIVED GE c204 that came about in 2036.
The "DOLLARD-FARNSWORTH FUSOR" was a singularity but it was a CLOTHED, STATIC SINGULARITY - a whitehole. The GE c204 used a KERR SINGULARITY which is a torus, not a "point"...
The GE c204 was needlessly complicated.
“I’ll be the clock, the gravity lock AND the computer...”
Mathew then spent the next few hours scrambling through notes, books, ideas …
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“Whitney, your lawyer is here, let’s go.”
CO Havoc had a glum tude.
“Hi Mat, take a seat.”
“Is, that some kind of joke?!”
“What?”
“Nevermind, what’s up?”
“*sighs* Phyllis passed last night. You’re eight weeks out but you’re getting released early.”
Mathew’s mom was in decline for some time. Her boy being in jail AGAIN had not helped her frail state. She had always stated he gets her car and that the funeral was already paid for. He had no driver’s license and no $ anyway.
“OK.”
“Do you have anyone to pick you up tomorrow?”
“No, maybe, I don’t know, why is the judge being so cool? He seemed pretty pissed when we met.”
“Can’t answer that, but it’s probably because ...”
Just then Havoc barges in, “We need Mr. Whitney NOW.”
“ah jeez, guess I’m popular today.”
Havoc takes Mathew out of the little room, pulls him aside.
“Eric’s been shived, we need you for questioning.”
Mathew’s lawyer, Garret, overhearing this steps in.
“Has Mat been implicated?”
“Absolutely not, but Eric is unconscious and Mat here is his only friend...”
“What the fuck, why would they wait all this time?”
“Because he’s getting out soon, this is what they do to chimos, let them suffer in here first and then...”
“Jesus fuck that’s why I was never...”
“yep, let’s go.”
Mathew and Havoc made their way to another meeting room where an investigator and officer were waiting. They asked Mathew if Eric had any blatant enemies. NO. Perhaps everyone is a suspect.
“I thought he was tolerated, like myself, fuck. Is he gonna be ok?”
“Stable but not awake yet, he needed blood.” The investigator stated hopefully. “We called his daughter, she will be here soon.”
Mathew was taken back to his corral. He never got to tell Eric the crazy shit, he never got to say goodbye to his mom. Eric better pull through.
An hour later Havoc came back. “You can see Eric now, he’s groggy but … Oh, btw, we’re putting you in isolation till your 1 pm departure.”
Mathew was led to the infirmary of the prison. Entering the room he saw a young woman, about 25, hovering over Eric; it was Lexi but she was older than the kid pics Eric had. She was quite attractive to Mathew – purple and black hair, shaved head and a tattoo of a crop glyph he immediately recognized. Defying that side was a grunge-era plaid shirt with the sleeves ripped off, and tight blue jeans.
She looked up, tears rolling down, Eric drew a smile.
“You must be Mat.”
“Hi Lex.”
He kept glancing at her ass.
“Pops has told me all about you, thanks for being his friend.”
In a thoughtless, knee-jerk effort to lighten the mood, Mathew blurted, “Pervs of a feather.”
She rolled her eyes and grinned.
“uh, yeah.”
Mathew approached them and smiled to his friend.
“Dude, glad ur ok, do you know who...”
“No. I was napping.”
Mathew wanted to tell him about his epiphany the night before, that his mom was gone, but this was not the time.
“I have good news, I’m getting out tomorrow.”
Eric’s smile grew wider.
At that moment it hit Mathew like a ton of … whatever and again he just said it.
“Any chance you could pick me up?” Looking at Lexi.
“um,” she glanced at her dad, and he gave a slight but assuring nod.
“Of course Mat, what time?”
“one o clock.”
Havoc interrupted, “Wrap it up, Whitney.”
“Eric, they had better let you out sooner than later too, ye done ur time and bleeding I think.”
Mathew reached in and squeezed Eric’s weak hand. “Thank you Lexi, he is really lucky to have you.”
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Mathew was taken to a room to get back into the civies he entered with. A prison-issued duffle was next to his clothes filled with all 28 of his books.
Feeling quite proud of his solid year of NOFAP, 15 lbs of muscle gained and a few new inventions under his belt his eyes fell upon Lexi again. Her cheery, no make-up face was icing.
She offered a hug, “Congrats dude! Ye made it.”
Mathew wondered if she knew or not. If she could still love her dad, perhaps she could at least understand him too.
“I know it’s a cliché that you want to get laid like, right now, but we’re not quite there yet.”
“I’m flattered you even considered mentioning that?!” Mathew was perplexed and astonished, “I’m good.” he laughed.
Holy shit, Lexi has the same irreverent humor. She had no clue what the hell a NOFAP streak of that length was worth, or maybe she did. Either way she had no idea Mathew had achieved that or that he achieved that for Time Travel purposes.
“Ha, you’re good Lex.” Why was he calling her Lex?
As Lexi and Mathew pulled out of the parking lot, the next obvious question came to them both and was asked by both, aloud, and in union
WHERE ARE WE GOING?
“I have the day off of work, I bet you’re hankering for ...” she asked leadingly.
“Thai, definitely Thai. And some IPA, even though Eric is in recovery and I have a funeral tomorrow I got to celebrate something.” He was sure she would ask what.
“And what’s that, Matty?” Why was she calling him Matty?
“I just figured something out, well, a few things.”
“Lotsa time to think in there, huh? You can tell me about it over beers.”
He kept glancing at her thighs. She smelled good, like some essential oil blend.
“So, do you like Thai? Can you find the nearest restaurant?”
She did, and did.
“I’m all about the green curry!”
“Fuckin’ right, let’s go.” She reached in her pocket and pulled out a phat J.
Jesus Christ, Mathew was falling in love. She couldn’t possibly be another CBA honeypot, but she also couldn’t be that perfect. Fuck. Focus, Mathew, focus.
ONE HOUR LATER with GLAZED EYES
“Matty, besides freedom *nomnom* what are you celebrating?” Lexi mumbled while enthusiastically stuffing her mouth.
“You’d think I was crazy.”
“Already do, … making out with a 12 year-old, REALLY?”
“So you know?”
“Everyone knows. Like everyone knows about your bomb scare back in 2011.”
It occurred to Mathew that it was beyond time to GTFO, even if The Program (the insider term for gangstalking) goes with him.
“Meh, forget it.” Having woofed down the Thai food at record speed, the urge to smoke a cig came upon him. “I need a cigarette. Do you?”
“No but I’ll walk with you to the corner market.”
There was something eerily comforting about how the past 24 hours went down. There’s syncs, and serendipity, and skits, but this just seemed like pure luck. Why is this superkewl, unicorn of a gal even entertaining him? Eric must have been a good dad. Or…
The first drag of an organic American Spirit cig is just the best, especially on top of being stoned and stuffed.
“Mat, if you’d like, I can come to your mom’s funeral tomorrow. I’m sure you could use a buffer.”
I absolutely could, he thought.
“That would be nice, really cool of you, but my family, well, we only have reunions when someone dies, I burned some bridges, I don’t know what will happen. Maybe we will all get over each other for mom’s memory’s sake. Shit, your dad feels more like fam than any of them. There’s also a history of, let’s just say, perverted behavior spanning generations on BOTH sides…*uhg* Do I have to go, Mom?”
He looked up while taking another drag.
“We should get going.” Lexi seemed to be an angel.
“How did you decide on that glyph?” Mathew touched her shoulder with the tattoo.
“It just spoke to me, some say it is about time cuz it resembles some Mayan shit, but it’s just sacred geometry to me.”
Industrial / Redneck chick that knows what the hell sacred geometry is. W T F ?
“Oh, um, you know I’ve no place to go tonight?”
“I figured. You’re not getting laid tonight but we can cuddle, I’m kinda on the rebound and need a slightly older man in my life right now, you’ll do.”
“Thanks Lex, but I will take the floor or couch for now, pretty sure if we spooned, as lovely as that would be, I’d be poking you the whole time and begging you to chop down my morning wood after a restless night.”
“Fair enough, it’s the thought that counts.”
As Lex and Matty fell into her Honda Civic a mutual feeling of fate floated between them, both frightening and assuring. It was a three hour ride back to her home in NY. Mathew grew up in that area but had moved with Kira to Void PA a while ago, man PA has some weird town names.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Lexi lived outside of I-Town, Brooktondale, in a 1970s style home handed down from Eric’s side of the fam. It was spacious yet cozy, plants, a woodstove, skylights… When Mat n Lex finally got there after a quiet ride, they exited the Civic, he turned, “Lex, why are you so kind to me?”
She cocked her head, “Don’t you know?”
“huh?”
“Are you not deserving a respite, an ease into your next chapter?”
Lex then pulled another phattie out of her pocket and sparked it up. Mathew could not believe it.
This is not happening. No chick is this cool.
“Fuck! Fuck you, you CBA bitch, I’m not falling for your lovebomb bullshit, are you a honeypot?!”
Her eyebrows raised, as if to say THE FUCK are you talking about?
Mathew’s thoughts then turned, like some mental akido, “What about ur pops, forget me...”
A half-assed shit-test.
“He’ll be fine, he will get out soon.”
“Answer my question!” Mathew stepped to Lexi, a fully-assed shit-test. His arms, inspired by his hopeless romantic side, the buzz of fortune, reached out with confidant abandon and wrapped around her, without the guilt of Imogen but with all the thrill.
She hugged back, wrapping around him, and with a breathy whisper, “Because I KNOW WHO THE FUCK YOU ARE, dumbass.”
“OKAY then, you win this round.”
Even though he wanted to tongue-fuck her mouth at that moment, the mental coitus was more inviting.
Lexi backed up and sparked the J. She hit it like a pro and handed it to Mathew. At that moment, like the moment Imogen wrapped her thick dancer thighs around him, he did not give a fuck why…
They spent the j in silence, staring at the country night sky. Conversation was pointless.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Mathew woke up on a couch. This couch was infinitely more cozy than the last year or so on a prison-issued bunk. Finally; no CO to buzz a door, no 24/7 fluorescent lights, no constant fog of man-farts and paranoia. There was just the gurgling of an aquarium opposite the couch, the faint hint of woodsmoke, a drizzly rain sound. If that wasn’t awesome enough, the smell of fresh ground and brewed coffee hit his nose.
Lexi approached, as if on queue, “Hey, guy, you got the raging morning wood!” She giggled.
Surprisingly, no, Mathew was not raging.
“You, wish, bitch!”
How were they so comfy with this repertoire so soon?
Coffee. Cig. Bongrip. Drizzle rain. She put on some MYRKUR – Ulvinde.
https://youtu.be/M9cNZQIzShc
At that vulnerable, early morning moment of bliss he grabbed her.
There was no epic fucking that their respective ugly parts begged for. He just sniffed her, spanked her tight ass and pushed her away.
“Matty, what are you gonna do today?”
His mom’s funeral was hours away, a decade-due fam reunion.
What was he to say to the estranged siblings? What was he to say about his mom?
“Good question, I guess I’m gonna honor Phyllis and try to smooth it out with my sisters and brother, if they are there.”
It then occurred to him. He cannot REALLY save his mom from having been molested. In the end she was in complete denial. She swore up and down that Don was a good dad, but...
And then it occurred to him the WHOLE existential issue. He had done the heroic dose of psilocybin in 1996 – thanks, Marty - and understood that all-too-new-agey concept – ALL IS APPROPRIATE. So if ALL molested little girls eventually die, either happy or miserable, what difference could he make? If he diverted his mom or fiance or sister into a timeline sans violation, what difference would it make to the original? In THE BUTTERFLY EFFECT timelines were integrated / remembered with resultant brain hemorrhaging. Fuck.
What is the point of time-travel if you can’t right wrongs? It must be some godlike fuckery trip, like giving Native Americans in 1701, machine guns.
What would be appropriate would be to ask his sister Tessa, the one who now was in her 50’s but was still sexy, who still heard voices (Kira’s brother Brett also suffered from voice-to-skull), who was on meds, who drank wine all day, who slept till noon, who at one point said she wanted to fuck Mathew, who had bared her tits, who had choked him for dissing Joyce Meyer, claiming to be Satan...ffs…
...What would be appropriate, would be to ask her the simple question, BEFORE WASTING TIME, LOL doing the timenapping thing: If you could go back in time and live a life where you were spared Satanic Ritual Abuse, and instead were given all the innocence and freedom to be yourself, would you do it? And the follow-up question: Has your life, thus far, positively shaped your current perspective in ANY way?
This could apply to any person but the SEVERELY KARMA-BURDENED HUMANS need to be questioned.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Lexi, despite her concern for her pops, was focused on Mathew – bless her heart. On that day she solaced and buffered. At the funeral she gladly validated that Mathew was not so much the perv, that his standards for female companionship were warranted. She also rocked the dark, depressive mood without parading her fashion sense. Good Industro-Goth gal.
Mathew was grateful for the long-overdue fam reunion. Nobody brought up the bomb scare shit or the making-out with a 12 year-old shit. Today was about membering Phyllis.
“My mom was stronger and cooler than any of us will ever know, Let’s go down to Lodi Point and join her with Aunt Dianne.”
And that’s exactly what happened. Aunt Dianne was one of the few females that Mathew truly loved, more than his own mom. Aunt Dianne had picked him up many times in his floundering 20’s, on a boring July afternoon, in her van, and burned one in her protopipe.
Nothing meant more.
Aunt Dianne visited him in his dreams, so happy, chilling, with a new shocking mane of wavey silver locks. She is so cool. She died on her own terms. So did Phyllis. Dianne had her pharmies, Phyll had her TV. Drugs are drugs, right? Whatever gets you through the day.
Mathew never bothered asking Tessa that pertinent question. But as with Aunt Dianne’s passing, they all got pretty drunk. It’s funny, the only time he and the older sister Leah bonded was when they both had to puke in the same toilet, at the same time, from drinking too much ice beer at Dianne’s wake.
The whole time Lexi assumed the role of gf, and let the record show, she was Mathew’s woman from then on. He was 46, she was 28. Good for you, Mathew.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
They drove back to Brooktondale. For both many questions lingering. Lexi wondered what Mat wanted more. Mat wondered if she was for real, and if his goal was actually possible.
It was down to KIRA, his ex fiance, the one who most delivered him from what Lexi now offered – a sane, productive, lasting love. He still clung to the idea he and THE KIRA SUE were Twin Flames. He still considered her to be the be all end all female. His nostalgia and unresolved feelings for Kira were now even more conflicted with the hope of a new chance with Lex. Should he just bail on the silly fantasy that prison time offered? He kinda knew better but it still seemed the ultimate goal, and like a half-court, nothing-but-net toss, the only thing worth doing.
And what about Imogen? Waiting for her to be legal, as awesome as she was, now seemed absolutely pointless. Kira has ghosted him for six years now so why should he care about her either?
And then there was the thing Lex said. If she knew who he was that suggested she was just another honeypot CBA, paid by The Program to fuck with him. That would mean Eric too, was in on it.
What difference does it make? It’s all a simulation. It’s all a solipsistic head trip. AMOR FATI.
The second night with Lexi was even better. Turns out she could cook too. She made them a very comfort food meal: A spin on chicken / waffles. She made a loaded potato waffle (bacon, cheddar, chives) with cajun chicken fries on top with a sour cream / garlic drizzle.
“Are you trying to seduce me, Lex?”
“Yes, Mathew, you can’t time travel on an empty stomach...”
THE FUCK?
“This meal is amazing, Lex, thank you.”
And that sealed the deal. She was a dream come true, the ultimate mind fuck. When you are used to things always going shitty, a streak of fortune …
Lexi got a call that Eric too was getting a reduced sentence and he’d be home next week. Eric would be an ideal father-in-law. They had already gone through one of the shittiest things ever, Mathew had proven himself worthy of Lexi. Very Good.
The next week continued in the same idyllic manner but the sex thing and time travel thing still lingered like a farting elephant in the living room.
He had suffered through too many episodes of blue balls, fantasies and near-spooge edging faps to blow his load now. Mathew brought up Carezza, a non-orgasmic getting frisky thing. He was still happy to get her all squirty and toe-curly. Carezza would actually be good on a psycho-somatic level too. Kira had robbed him of his mojo, he was rusty, and performance anxiety still plagued him. Lexi’s kindness and overall awesomeness was the cure for that.
She was down, and rather impressed at his self-restraint. Hand and mouth game were improved when the dick game was a fail, like a blind person gaining enhanced other senses.
The night before Eric was to be brought home they both agreed to give it a go.
You’ll just have to use your imagination. At 46 yo, the hopeless romantic finally made love for the first time, literally.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
With Eric home Mathew felt like he had a real fam. The two picked it right up.
“Can I see your shiv scar?”
Eric pulled up his shirt. Two stabs, not meant to be lethal. Prison has its own rules, but the world in general is a hypocritical shit show; Mathew proclaimed that if any functional hetero man was on a deserted island with horny teen girls … An island with no repercussions and nothing else to do …
You can publicly deny your nature but seriously, you’re not kidding anyone with that faux moral compass.
“Did your assailant ever get identified?”
“No, but I think it was Briggs.”
“Yeah, that self-righteous cunt prolly did it, what a pussy, in your sleep ffs.”
Briggs got 20 for selling LSD, you would think he’d be a little more understanding but he was also rightfully bitter, he didn’t bang a minor but got twice the sentence as Eric.
“I’m so glad you are healed up and back here man, btw, me n Lex are a thing now, hope that’s cool.”
“Ever so.” Eric grinned as if that was the plan all along.
They all burned a phattie and settled around a fire in the back yard.
The convo went from how awesome Lexi was, to how horrible prison is, to the serendipitous meeting of the two, under suspiciously similar circumstances. Eric admitted he too had a ginger fetish.
Mathew broached the subject of time travel casually, sharing the Titor documents, Ronald Mallet’s frame-dragging laser ring (aka TORSION), Tipler’s Cylinder, Bohmian Mechanics, the idea of superluminal comms, astral travel, NASA’s BPP, Vril Maidens …
“Seems you’ve given it some serious thought.”
“Yeah, I believe that the Titor GE c204 thing is real, but I think the reason he gave for coming back here was a cover-story, I think it was en experiment on the bootstrap aka terminator paradox.”
“Which is…?”
“It is an acausal loop where something goes back in time and voids its own origin, like in The Terminator where Cyberdyne develops cyborgs from a retrieved chip from said cyborg, the thing was never ACTUALLY invented. I reckon Titor was also testing or setting up a memetic lock for measuring divergence.”
“Like, he goes back to the future to see what effect he had, got it.”
“Maybe it is because I’m ignorant of all the stuff that went into the GEc204, or maybe because I’m versed in more occult stuff, but I really think I have figured out a simpler, more robust way to do it.”
Eric was intrigued, his academic background never betrayed his open-mindedness. Most good scientists and engineers dabble in drugs, and Eric did his share back in the day. He had worked on some classified stuff through a DARPA sub-contract. Eric was the ideal, complimentary partner for such a garage-level endeavor.
“Did you google NICOL prism?”
“Yes, and what I got from it was that light, being synonymous with aether, needs to be polarized according to specific geometries in order to engineer or condition space and shall we say, lasing mediums in order to...”
Mathew paused, searching for the right words. His intuited understanding was holistic and he always struggled with the limiting lexicon and paradigm of physics, public consumption physics, and since he couldn’t do math, that was useless to him.
“member the Doritos incident?”
Eric did, when Mathew’s bulb lit up it was obvious because he gets this blank stare.
“Yep, who knew Doritos could lead to an epiphany!”
They laughed.
“What occurred to me since then is that a blackhole is like a prism, prisms are usually equilateral triangles, uh ... and that old saying about nothing escaping is bullshit, I mean, the extraordinary ray is like Hawking radiation, depending on the angles… And after the dictionary divination thing I considered chakras to be like cells, in that they can change like with epigenetics. If I am not in monk mode my cells or chakras shrivel and crunch down. I have noticed a change in my biofield(s) from the year plus of nofap, and now an immediate change since I started smoking again. Gonna haveta quit that. The next step is ORMUS. I need to do all I can biologically to prepare for a quantum phase shift. Titor never spoke of monk mode, but he was never planning on actually being a part of the time machine. I will use my own heart chakra as the steering singularity.”
“Whoa, slow down there, professor!” Eric could usually follow Mathew but he was increasingly in the weeds, what with the new-agey lingo.
For Mathew, none of it was woo-woo, he actually had OBEs, and he actually did remote view, and as far as he was concerned the muggle skeptics could go fuck themselves back to their self-imposed ignorance.
“What I’m thinking is if we take the Dollard-Farnsworth Fusor and reverse the polarity so that there are polar anodes and a central cathode it will create a mini blackhole. If we then make a vest that places two of these SINGULARITY CELLS on either side of the heart chakra, I can activate the front one to teleport and activate both to time travel.”
Eric and Lexi were slack-jawed.
“OK, Mat, I’ll indulge you, say this is possible, how do you actually control where and when you go, that seems complicated.”
“Great question, and my answer is based on my remote viewing experience and the 7 clues to QUANTUM GRAVITY. OK, first those seven clues, are also the 7 epochs of big bang, the 7 days in Genesis, and the 7 phase states, there’s also seven sevens in Revelation but I digress … When I took massive amounts of ORMUS and developed remote viewing ability, I merely ASKED to see whatever, and I either got to see what I requested, I saw a NO ACCESS symbol or I saw a circle of grays staring down at me, but most of the time I saw what I asked to see. Montauk lore also suggests the primacy of consciousness. I AM the computer, the clock, the gravity lock … But the third component is the negative resistance circuit and parametric pumping of the singularity cells. That’s where I need your help.”
“You’re serious?”
“Do I sound otherwise?”
“Please, go on.” Eric was fascinated by this word-salad meta rant.
Mathew continued, in a stoned monologue:
“So, when I activate the fore singularity I am enveloped by its ergosphere which renders my inertial mass to mere information, which MY mind can then control. When I activate the aft singularity my mind is still in control but instead requesting where to go I request when to go. How and why the universe complies is beyond language.”
Lexi was spellbound, if her new guy was insane or not was not an issue to her, his conviction alone was getting her moist. She interrupted, “Pops, I would love to hear more but I think Mathew needs to reel it in and we should all retire for the night.”
Mat and Eric glanced at each other and both yawned simultaneously.
“Heard, baby.” Mathew got up from the Adirondack chair, took her by the hand and they stumbled towards her room. Eric just stared at the dwindling flames, “Good night kids, Mat, we got a lot to discuss tomorrow.”
“G’nite, dude, thanks for listening to my shit, it means a lot.”
When Lex and Mat got upstairs she got naked and then helped Mathew get the same. Lexi has a choice body: Little ass, little tits, long arms, superhero calves, hip bones that jut out like the curves of a sports car. Her deep purple devil’s lock hair and fuzzy shaved sides, her poofy lips… It was all Mat could do not to blow a gallon of cum on her just at the sight.
“Lex, are you trying to seduce me?”
“Yes, dumbass. Are you gonna put that average white-boy dick in me or not?”
She jumped on the bed, presented that perfect ass at him, reached between her legs and started to diddle her pink berry. She let out a little breathy moan.
Mat’s junk twitched.
“Sweetness, I’m not quite there yet. I want to, you are perfection … fuck.”
He climbed on the bed, knelt down, “This for now.”
His tongue slid into her asshole, his hands slid up to her tits, and he held her like that as instinct took over. She did not resist. After five minutes of slow, intentional manipulation to Devin Townsend singing DEADHEAD
she squirted all over his face. It was pretty epic.
“My six inches can wait.”
“Uh, yeah it can.”
Best night – despite the blue bawz - of dreamless sleep ever.
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The next morning Eric was up first and he whipped up some french toast, bacon, and coffee. The smell of breakfast wafted up to greet the blissed-out kids who woke simultaneously, both grinning with bed-head and morning breath. They wrapped around each other with soft giggles and googly eyes. She rolled out, put on a robe and headed to the loo. You know you are a couple when you hear her pee and fart at the same time. Mathew had the raging morning wood and thought to himself what a waste it was, but he got dressed and waited for her to finish her morning routine.
Coffee. Cig. Bongrip. Breffis.
Eric was so pleased to see his daughter and Mathew together. She had not had the best choice in fellas before. On paper Mathew was no prize, but in reality, in his experience, he was as perfect for her as she was for him.
“Eric, thanks for starting the day, I would never have gotten out of bed otherwise.”
Lexi, munching her last slice of bacon, nodded in concurrence.
Mathew got up and with no regard queued up EPICA – Design Your Universe.
He sat in Lotus position and did some crazy Wim Hof breath work.
His head tweaked like a dog hearing something peculiar in the distance and stared like a cat seeing some 4D critter. He started rocking his body like a madman at a wailing wall.
Eric and Lexi watched as if this was the new normal. The song gave them both goosebumps, it’s not called EPICA for nothing. It seemed like Mathew might start hovering, but the song ended and he just fell backward, laying there, shuddering.
“You OK, hun?”
“uhhhhhh.”
He had a strong desire for her to suck his bawz at that moment.
“Baby, can you get my coffee?” He was not going to ask her, even though she would.
She handed him his mug, sat behind him, wrapped her legs around him, her arms too, and kissed his neck. “What was that?” She whispered in his ear.
“I don’t know, I’m still adjusting to actual joy I guess.”
“I know what you need.” She queued up MYRKUR again, CROWN. She led him to the shower … under the water she knelt down and sucked his balls, then she hummed. Mathew held fast to the shower walls, shaking, as she drew the kundalini back down. After a few minutes of her expert oral love, she continued the pampering with a towel drying and return to bed. They cuddled to sleep for another two hours listening to Heilung.
Another dream: A baby suspended in a rainbow vortex was giving him the finger.
When Mathew awoke he felt both calm and energized, amused yet disturbed by the dream, he knew who the baby was. The Kira Sue. The Fucking Kira Sue.
“Lex, how did you know?” Mathew was sincerely curious.
“Oh, I know what boys want.”
Good enough, her knowledge of him was bordering on creepy. He felt this before, with Sabre and Kira.
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Eric’s 10 year absence was hard on him. It was hard on Lexi. Being home again reminded him to never take anything for granted. Did he deserve 10 years for fucking a teenager? NO. But in the big picture, it was all part of a larger plan. The ginger he fucked, like Imogen, did not exhibit any childlike qualities, physically or mentally, she had it in her to press charges and lie; kids AND adults do that.
He made his way to the barn out back, where he had his shop, tools, equipment. In the past decade he learned of 3D printing and was eager to play with the new tech. Like Mathew, his period of deprivation fostered other skills and acquisition of knowledge. These skills were about o be exploited – BIG TIME.
Around noon the three reconvened. Mathew’s fantasy needed to be narrowed down to discrete steps; the first step was to prototype a Dollard-Farnsworth Reverse Polarity Fusor, which would not be a fusor but a Singularity Cell, a benchtop blackhole. If that worked they could go to the next step. It was a rather simple contraption. Mathew had always maintained that the most advanced tech was also the simplest, after all, astromimetically speaking, a blackhole was just a collapsed ball of plasma. Z-Pinch, Alfven, Torroidal model of the electron, Chapline’s Dark Energy Star, all these things were established physics. It just required a glass-blower, noble gas, a square-wave or pulsed DC generator and some way via circuitry, to parametrically pump the cell.
Mathew explained this first step to Eric, provided all the prior art, and by that evening Eric was totally on-board.
Lexi was out of the geek loop, but knew her boys needed sustenance. She returned to the kitchen and whipped up green curry with red onion, baby bellas, thai chilis, and venison strips. This was poured over steaming jasmine rice.
“Guys, come and get it!”
“ O M F G, Lex, this is the bomb, the fire!” Mathew and Eric both sniffing from the heat.
“Is it good?” Lexi knew she was the culinary shiznit.
They just nodded and nom nommed it down.
That night was a repeat of the last, deep discussion, satisfying non-orgasmic carezza, blue balls, and deep, dreamless sleep.
The week of slack ended. Lexi had to go back to work as a model. It was feast or famine in her profession, but she had a go-see in Ithaca for a wealthy photographer she found on craigslist, and she had all he wanted.
Left to the task at hand, her boys planned and plotted. The prototype SC, including off-the-shelf and custom made parts, would run just under a grand. Eric had money in the bank from his distant DARPA sub-contract; he never indulged much in the commissary and had lived a simple life before the prison sentence, so there was seed capital for Mathew’s whole trip.
Mathew had nothing but Eric and Lexi’s kindness and otherworldly sympathy.
The homestead was bought and paid for long ago, they had reserves, so it was nothing but the new fam and finally pursuing the bliss – physical, spiritual.
This came naturally to the three. Eric, while longing for what Lexi and Mathew were now enjoying, was blessed with a friendly ex-wife. Claudia joined them off and on, and Mathew’s picture of what came before his presence was filled in. Claudia, like Lexi, was beautiful and superkewl. She kinda reminded him of Sharon.
Lexi’s new gig in Ithaca was a total boon to her career and the promotion of Industro-Goth culture; she simply owned her look. It was not THAT original, but she is just that epic.
One unseasonably warm October evening they gathered around the firepit, beers and bowl all around:
Claudia was curious about Mathew and was baffled by the similar situation that he and Eric shared.
“It’s a cliché, isn’t it, ‘Everything happens for a reason’.”
“What reason, mom?”
“Well,” Claudia replied, “If Eric and Mathew were not thrown together because of a mutual redhead thing...”
It WAS rather peculiar how fate had brought them together.
Claudia was painfully honest, “Mathew, are you going to give me a grandchild? I certainly hope you will, even though you are too old for my Lexi.”
“Whoa mom, have you seen Mathew? He looks my age!”
Mathew cut in, “Future mom, I cannot answer that, but I am honored you deem me worthy at this point.”
“As long as she is happy...”
“Oh, I am, mama.”
Eric glanced over to Claudia. What went wrong? Regardless, he fucked it all up, she had moved on. He wanted to take her in, but she was already gathering herself.
They looked at each other, proud of their daughter. “Claud, can I get a hug?” the intoxicants lubing his soul.
“Yes, my dear.” Claudia indulged him.
She got in her car and drove off, leaving Eric wistful. Damn that ginger teen bitch.
He got up without a word and walked back to his barn / shop. He took a few more swigs from his beer and decided then and there that Mathew was not crazy, he was TOUCHED. He would do everything he could to make Mathew’s fantasy a reality.
Lexi and Mathew were at the same moment in the shower. He held her hips while she shaved her legs, his throbbing dick between her buns. He wanted so badly to enter her, she wanted him too. This was getting unbearable.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A few days later Lex was off on another modeling gig, this time two weeks, in Italy. For the boys it was time to begin prototyping, now that they had the ducks in a row. The Dollard-Farnsworth Reverse Polarity Fusor or Singularity Cell – SC - could be made entirely with off-the-shelf parts: two glass beakers, graphite electrodes, square/pulse wave generator and some proprietary circuitry, oh and a means of creating a partial argon vacuum inside the contraption.
Long story short, the two mad scientists put it all together. They activated the SC from a distance with several cameras and EMF sensors surrounding the SC. This is what they witnessed upon activation:
The contraption was enveloped in a shadow cast upon space, the thermal camera showed a drastic drop in temperature, there was an audible sound of white noise, like radio static or a waterfall. 42 cycles in, the nexus turned from shadow to light, at 66 cycles it vanished. They cut the power and the process reversed in a split-second.
SUCCESS!
“I told you, dude, the SIMPLEST MACHINES ARE THE MOST ADVANCED!”
“Holy fucking shit, Matty!”
They went over the footage in slow mo, the sensor readings… Mathew could only take them at face value but Eric had the deeper understanding. They had created a vacuum domain, a bubble in local space where the energy density at the Planck scale was polarized relative to the space around it. Where that bubble terminated, and this is the fucked up part, was left a HORIZON, that was imprinted into (that) space. The implications were not immediately obvious but would be soon enough. They also had not put sensors out far enough to gauge exactly where this horizon was.
The boys celebrated. The atmosphere had changed, both in their spirits and physically around them, it was hard to see the difference but it was obvious to the internal observer; Everything just felt NEW and CLEANSED.
Beers and Bowls and another backyard fire…
“What now?”
“I don’t know, I mean, fuck, we are sitting on a fucking Holy Grail here. My ego, for having nailed it, is exploding right now, but you don’t wanna cave to it and go public with this, right?”
“Hmm, scientific method was served justice today, the recordings are absolute proof this is replicable. This alone could give us infinite wealth and fame, but that’s not the goal right?”
“Eric, if we hadn’t been in the slammer together I don’t know if I could trust you...”
Eric interrupted, “HEARD, BRO, WE, you AND I did this, this is OURs...”
Mathew stood up and opened his arms. The men embraced, Mathew started laughing/crying uncontrollably. He fell to the ground, fishing out like the time he was peaking on the 5 dried grams.
Eric just shook his head in awe, “You are the craziest motherfucker ever...”
AAAAAHHHAAAHHHAAA, * s o b * ahhhahahahahah
Eric jumped on his phone and ordered pizza and wings. Then he went in and busted out the absinthe.
Tonight was a night to get fucked up.
At the same time in Italy, Lexi was winding down from a long day and had a weird feeling come upon her, one of joy but also sadness. Something was going on at home, now, but also to her future.
The impact of the historical experiment they had just conducted was not lost in his inebriation. Mathew was swirling with the reality of fantasy manifesting, moment by moment. For a long-denied “fool”, for someone diagnosed with DELUSIONS OF GRANDEUR five times by various state-appointed shrinks, the feeling was like winning the lottery, but instead of FUCK YOU MONEY at his disposal, it was … so FAR beyond that. Tesla had said:
“Let the future tell the truth, and evaluate each one according to his work and accomplishments. The present is theirs; the future, for which I have really worked, is mine.”
He knew he had been Tesla, and before that in Atlantis, AKKAENESET.
In a drunk / stoned / megalomaniacal state Mathew declared to Eric and the entire universe,
“TIME and SPACE are my BITCH!”
He then passed out. It was early November. Eric picked the mad scientist up, buffalo wing sauce all over his face, and carried Mathew to bed, which still smelled of Lexi.
Eric was equally ecstatic but held a slightly more sober mood than his younger friend and likely son-in-law. After tucking Mat in, he returned to the SC. The utter simplicity astounded him, and the phrase Mathew had uttered back in prison echoed back – ASTROMIMICRY.
There really was a meso and macroscopic element to quantum stuff. The tetrahedral tiling at the Planck scale went up to the merkaba. How did this highschool dropout know so much? It was just crazy.
Eric’s academic history had no bearing on how this thing was conceived, but the implications were painfully obvious to him. The EM signature they had produced hours earlier must have been picked up on some satellite or another, some cell tower… Eric was now balls deep into Mathew’s fantasy and he had a deep regard and responsibility weighing on him now.
It would have been easy to stop there, to upload it all on the internet. Eric concluded, the experiments had to continue.
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If there was ever fodder for the expected fucked-up dream(s), the previous day had supplied it to Mat. In REMland, despite the cannabis buffering effect, perhaps enhanced by the absinthe, he dreamed:
He was back on that Island, the one surrounded by 3 primary-fire-colored, equidistant littler islands. He was in a rainbow vortex, hovering in its neck, suspended by its power. A little girl, naked, came up to him from behind, she wrapped her arms around him, her budding breasts pushed into his back and she whispered, in an adult woman’s voice, “I HATE YOU, DADDY!”
Mathew woke up with raging morning-wood. If Lexi was there he would have killed his epic Nofap streak, to bury the guilt, the pressure into her. He felt guilty because the dream had turned him on.
Eric, bless his heart, already had the coffee going.
Mathew always felt compelled to share his dreams, despite knowing everybody else was either bored or clueless, but tact won that debate in his mind and he just shuffled to the dining room table where Eric was waiting.
“I don’t...” Mat uttered.
Eric with a grin, “Got you there.”
Mathew suddenly seriously missed Lexi. He considered the experiment’s success reason enough to end the insane Nofap streak. Fuck it. When the time comes to self-experiment with the SC, his biological purity should not matter. It’s not like he was waiting to be RAPTURED like a guilt-ridden Christian.
He did not HAVE TO WAIT. He was gonna Enoch / Elijah the shit outta this.
I’LL TAKE ALL MY BODIES WITH ME AT WILL.
* sips coffee *
“Eric, there is a long history of scientists experimenting on themselves, and those folks are bawz out, now that this thing is real, I must go into the field, like a foot away, I don’t care if I meld into shit like The Philadelphia Experiment...”
Eric raised his head and looked sternly, “Son, -WHY WAS HE CALLING HIM SON-, If that is what you must do … I admit, I am being selfish, a coward, when I say better you than me, but I applaud your bravery … that WOULD be the science thing to do.”
“Don’t call me son, unless you actually want me...”
“I do.”
They laughed.
“Lex is back from Italy tomorrow, I think I should go look for a ring today.”
Eric’s expression went to absolute approval, with a nod.
Mathew took a big slug of coffee and his thoughts turned to Imogen. And Sharon. The past few months of mutual ghosting begged a question or three.
Could he impress Imogen with his new power?
Does he even care?
Is Lexi really the one?
There was still, despite her perfection, something off about Lexi. Mathew wanted to fuck her so badly, and was now able to, but…
Imogen haunted him, like The Kira Sue haunted him. There was so much unresolved shit with them both. It seemed like a slutty move to just bury them.
Kira especially. Seven years of no contact but he was still obsessed with the idea of rescuing her and ONLY her. That would be some serious science. Divergent timeline & Nature vs Nurture. Was he fucking insane? Maybe, but why not go all the way? First thing’s first.
He dug out the pic of Imogen. Yep, he was still in love with her. The thought had crossed his mind that he could just leap to 2025 when she was legal.
NO. Fuck that, let Imogen live her life, let her experience all the Eschaton as a teen. She did not care about him anyway. Lexi did. But Imogen is a ginger and he could not deny how awesome she was and would be.
FUUUUUUCKKK!
Eric just sat back and watched as Mathew’s bulb flickered.
* sighs * “I’m gonna get blazed and go back to bed.”
“Good call, is there anything I can do?”
“Yeah, look up Matt Herrick.”
“OK”
Eric had no idea who this Herrick fella was, or why Mathew wanted to contact him.
Mathew grabbed the bubbler on the table and bag of nugs and went back upstairs. He then went to the hamper, pulled out Lexi’s dirty undies and huffed. Instant erection. He missed her. He missed Imogen. He missed Kira Sue. He was totally fucked. As Mat coughed out the cannabis plume, wishing to sleep forever, unprovoked clarity settled upon him. DO NOT fuck Lexi, DO NOT chase Imogen, GO INTO the field, GO BACK to 1988.
He awoke in the evening to find Eric at the computer, Eric heard him approaching, “Herrick is a jeweler in Ithaca.”
“Matt made my engagement ring for Kira, a silver band with PLANET KIRAMAT inscribed on the inside. That ring wound up in a dump after she bailed.”
“That’s brutal, Matty.”
“Yeah. But he’s good… I want to be with your baby girl, but...”
“You are a slave to the thing. It’s ok, member Tesla?”
“He was celibate af.”
Mathew had never told him about his past life stuff. Of course he membered. Tesla was over libido at 40, never married, even though many hotties were up in his grill. He put invention first, and suffered.
Mathew WISHED he had the same discipline as his former meatbot had, but he figured being a horny perv, hopeless romantic, NOW, was some balance to the oversoul – and it was. LOL.
“Whatever happens between you and Lex, is ok with me, it won’t change our relationship.”
“Thanks, man,” Mathew placed his hand on Eric’s shoulder, “You are the best friend I ever had.”
“Yeah. There’s something you need to see.” Eric opened one of several windows.
On the screen was a vid from DUTCHSINSE, the yt earth watchman. Eric skipped ahead on the vid.
“Our experiment was picked up on several satellites.”
A vision of black helicopters hit Mat.
“Oh fuck me, what should we do?”
“We are gonna pack our shit, we are gonna go get Lexi from the Syracuse airport, and we are gonna GTFO!”
And with that, they started packing.
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Eric and Mat gathered the SC, all the peripheral equipment, Lexi’s clothes and the fam’s sentimentals and that was about it.
As they were packing Mat considered his TI status, which, like the Antichrist and Tesla past-life stuff he failed to mention, was suddenly more valid and relevant. He was tracked 24/7 by his very DNA. Either Quantum AI God / Demiurge was with him or against him, it was always hard to tell, but he knew the urgency to bail Brooktondale was silly paranoia or fate. He had to go with Eric’s instincts; trying to cram in the remaining insanity at this point … Sometimes you just have to go with other people’s convictions, this was one of those times.
Where they were going after Syracuse was not a concern right now. Hmmm, Syracuse – Kira Sue’s
That always struck Mat funny.
Thankfully, Lexi’s modeling had afforded her a spacious pick-up with a cab over the bed, her practical redneck side manifested.
The boys arrived at
the airport a few hours before her flight from Italy arrived. They
went to the bar and Mat had a White Russian, Eric a Dark n
Stormy. Eric texted her to meet them there.
As they got tipsy her plane arrived in the middle of an upstate NY flurry.
Mathew turned from the bar to anticipate her. Airports and hospitals are the most emotion-packed buildings, not churches. Her shock of purple mane preceded her and Mathew couldn’t help but run to her like some stupid Hollywood scene, she also picked up her pace to greet him.
* smiles all around *
Arms out, “Baby!” She jumped up and wrapped her legs around him, like Imogen that one day, like Kira coming home from work. God she smells soooo good. He could not believe this goddess was his.
“Oh I missed you so much!”
“Me too, sweetness!” Mathew held her booty like it was a pot of gold. They just held each other, for like, forever. He sniffed her and pecked kisses all up – n – down her. She relented back to the floor for an extra close embrace and then they just made-out for a minute, his hands still gripping her tight ass.
“Ooh do we have news for you!” Eric joined up and the three embraced like the fam should.
“Baby girl,” Eric struggled for words and all three exchanged glances.
“What?” Lexi was so glad to see them.
“We should go to the bar...” Eric said.
“OK, but I need to go get my luggage first.”
“Right, meet you there.”
Mathew took Lexi’s hand and they went to retrieve her stuff.
Back at the bar…
“How’d ur gig go?”
Lexi, like a hardened hottie, “I pushed my tits and ass into a camera and told a few boring guys ‘Io non parlo italiano’ and that was pretty much it, but I landed nine grand, so...”
“We also had a good week, but...”
“What?”
“Fuck, baby, it worked, and pops insisted we jet.”
She looked to Eric.
“We got ALL your stuff...” Eric inserted like the concerned dad.
Lexi went from happy to wtf.
Mathew followed, “Lex, it fucking worked but … it was detected and we have to GO!”
They all took a swig of their respective drinks.
“What do you mean it worked?”
“Better just show her, dude.” Mathew nodded to Eric.
Eric pulled out his now hot phone, shoved the footage in Lexi’s face.
She looked. Her eyes bugged a little and started to tear up. The insanity she had invested in was reality. She had not been there in person but the vid of the SC doing its thing was undeniable.
She turned to Mathew and plunged her margarita-infused tongue into his face.
She thought back to the day she picked him up from prison, his cuddles, his drunken rants. She had actually landed an apparent god. Sure, on paper he was a piece of shit, but she always knew better.
When a girl backs a mad man’s HERO’S JOURNEY, and it pays off, they are both validated. This was one of those rare moments in humankind.
“OK, now what, where do we go?”
Eric answered, “Did you know your mom inherited property in Colorado?”
She had.
“Mom is letting you go there?”
“I sent her an email while your boy was sleeping it off, she insisted, somehow, even before I found the yt vid from Dutchsinse.” Claudia, like her daughter, had a creepy knowing of what was up.
“What vid?”
“That’s why we are going, he showed the world the anomolous signature from our exact location.”
Mathew lowered his head. “Babe, if it’s on yt, it’s known to any number of agencies, and ffs, aliens.”
“So we all have a target on our backs?”
“Pretty much, but I have to believe the UNIVERSE is with us on this.”
Lexi had no choice but to agree.
Claudia agreed to meet them at a hotel in Buffalo the next day. Eric felt a sense of redemption with Claudia’s involvement. Whether she handed off keys or joined them on this adventure west was unknown, but Eric defs wanted her support now more than ever.
It was around 8 pm when the fam trio departed Syracuse to Buffalo. Eric drove while the kids in back got all handsy.
Eric thought of he and Claudia back in the day. He still held that flame after all these years. God-willing it would be a foursome fam after tomorrow.
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Claudia, as always, was there first.
Upon meeting again, in the middle of some epic shit, Eric, Claudia, Lexi and Mathew became four.
A perfect balance of male and female energy. Two (2) and (2) Two.
A perfect balance of age.
A perfect balance of soul and machine.
A perfect balance of knowledge and ego.
A perfect balance of fantasy and fate.
LOVE & - / - HATE.
Claudia needed no coercion to join the insanity. Something was different about Eric now. He was no longer a drunkard, he was motivated and happy, and for some odd reason he seemed to look younger, like before prison young.
With her presence it truly felt like a fam. Lexi could not have imagined in a kajillion years that her rents would reunite. Claudia was a free woman for a decade, a little too free. It was a second chance for all of them.
They made their way west, to what would prove to be the ideal testing ground for the working model of the SC. Claudia’s dad was something of an eccentric like Mathew. He had converted an old subterranean missile silo into a decked out luxury bunker.
Mathew was thrilled, perhaps the SC’s “warp signature” would be shielded from satellites that far down, if not, it was easy to defend the fort.
After settling, Eric checked his email. Got one from Burt, his neighbor:
SEE YOU ALL LEFT, WAS WORRIED. SOME FED LOOKING PEOPLE SHOWED UP AND SCOURED YOUR PROPERTY, ARE YOU OK?
The thing is, Burt and Eric never really got along, and for him to give a shit now… No reply.
Eric deleted his email account right then and there.
Mat and Lexi picked out a room and got to cleaning. The industrial feel to the whole place appealed to both of them. The silo itself had been turned into a vertical garden lit with LED arrays. There was one plant they were psyched about growing. NY and PA had not caught up with Colorado and they had enough to be paranoid about already.
It was agreed by all to trash the phones, and only Claudia would leave the property for supplies.
“Mom, do you know if there are any Cannabis places in town?”
“I’m sure there is, dear!”
Claudia would do anything for her daughter, and the thought of getting high again, after a 12 year hiatus, with her daughter, and no black market nonsense, was quite appealing.
The new matriarch went out for said supplies while Lexi cleaned and the boys unpacked their gear.
“Mat, prototyping without my shop is gonna be difficult, but I promise, we’ll figure it out.”
“Thanks, Pops!” Why was he …?
Mathew’s thoughts were racing. This is soooo cool.
The bunker was soooo cool.
Mathew then thought of Lexi and the fated move here. He never got ahold of Herrick about the ring.
He could not consummate a marriage anyway, not with her, not anyone.
1988
The year Kira was born, the year a UFO was sighted over his house and he slept through it.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The first test of the SC was at full power, it was outside, it was activated remotely. This time, it would be done at the lowest setting, underground, activated while inside the field.
Mat got the butterflies, like the first time he tried smoking DMT.
They would do the test in a few days, until then it was all about settling in, formulating a plan, just being fam.
Claudia returned with a big grin on her face, “Home, Honey, I’m High!”
Turns out there WAS a Cannabis Cafe in town, called Otto’s Jacket. They were more than happy to show this MILF the latest in nugget glory.
“Gather round my lovelies,” She continued triumphantly, “Mama’s got the goods!”
She dropped 4 grocery bags on the counter. “There’s a cafe with all kindsa pot stuff, anda Trader Joe’s across the street.” She started pulling out munchies. “Oh, letsee, Ezekiel bread, simmer sauces, chicken sausage, jerky, frozen pizzas, exotic chips, IPA, ...”
“Oh, thanks Claud, how’d you know I love Ezekiel and IPA?” Mathew was not paranoid but got the feeling Claudia was a super-mom.
“Lex told me.”
“Derp.”
“Reckon we should indulge in this first.” She reached in her purse and pulled out a cute little mason jar, and, “Thought I should pick up one of these while I was at it.” Out comes the implement of combustion, a glass bowl with BLINKY the three-eyed fish.
They were all pretty exhausted by the end of the night, each couple retiring to their respective bedrooms. Eric and Claudia talked for an hour, about the past, present and future. Mathew and Lexi did not talk, they fell asleep. The cannabis blocked his dreams. Thank goodness.
The Fam spent the next few days tidying up, doing maintenance on the off-grid system gramps’ genius had worked out, figuring out what else to grow in the silo garden. Mathew was getting anxious though. Worst case scenario? Well, there were several: He could meld into things, he could get stuck between dimensions, he could invite demons, he could go legit crazy.
OR
Everything he was seeing eidetically was perfect and would work, allowing him to proceed with the timenapping of The Kira Sue. What the fam thought of that did not matter to him, because at that point he’d have commanded enough respect, right?
Lexi printed up that meme:
And taped it to the door to the boys’ “lab”.
Mathew felt something was missing, some bit of knowledge, so he youtubed it and found this:
OK. Biomorphing the pineal gland, Charge Clusters, DMT, ZTR, OBIT, Dewey Larson, Reciprocity, Stargates, …
The GE c204 traveled in YEARS PER HOUR, but according to Peret, you could just go, as Mathew had assumed. He also assumed correctly that it helps to have a higher than average psychic ability, the as light-as-you-can-get light body before quantum phase shifting, The Men Who Stare At Goats nallat.
With the Montauk lore they projected a PORTAL, but with Matty's VEST he was sandwiched IN THE PORTAL; this gave an extra degree of freedom and simplicity, HE WAS THE STEERING SINGULARITY, TIME/GRAVITY LOCK.
It was time to pound the ORMUS again. Claudia ordered some off Amazon. That’s pretty fucking crazy right there. This highly coveted organic topological qubit, known only to alchemists and little g gods and scientist priests – yeah, you can just click a button now.
BIG TIME
Mathew and Eric set up the second experiment on the central shaft perch of the silo, it was a spiral staircase going up 60 feet, with the LEDs facing out toward the vertical garden. The top was the most isolated yet open area of the bunker. This perch would also be the perfect launch area if experiment three should happen.
The SC was not in the vest Eric was working on, it was just bolted down on a wooden board which Mat sat next to. A wired controller adjusted the power input. Because it was powered by Mat’s -R Circuit the whole system was already quantum coherent. The pulsing or squarewave of the circuit also allowed for parametric pumping, a phenomena Mathew understood from childhood bath time. When he was about 6 years old Mathew would sit in the bathtub and push a wall of water to the front of the tub, the wave bounced back, hit the rear wall and again bounced forward, as the wave passed, he would push that wave and in about 4 iterations, the amplitude of the wave got too splashy… He was obviously membering his time as Tesla. Tesla, when describing certain aether-related phenomena, would use hydraulic analogies, here the cathode of the SC is the hands, the partial argon vacuum the bathwater, the singularity or INVERTED CHARGE CLUSTER the tub wall, and aether is still aether.
Mathew flipped it on and slowly turned the dial up. The first sensation he felt was like when you are tripping bawz and you feel like a can of shaken-up soda, like you want to sleep and run a marathon simultaneously. Dial keeps going up – tinnitus, trippy, floaty. More – static sound, shimmery. From the outside Eric and Lexi and Claudia were spellbound, it was like the first test but slower and more subtle.
Mathew felt totally coherent and relatively solid, but with increasing floaty sensation. This was a lot like tripping on shrooms but without the all-pervading fractals. Fuckit, he cranked it all the way up.
Just as before, shadow, white noise, flash, gone.
A few moments later Mathew, the SC, and board they were resting on reversed back into local space, linear time and inertial mass, it was a TOTAL CPT VIOLATION! And HE WAS IN IT!
“HOLY FUCK! How long was I gone?”
“About 4 seconds, dude!” Eric shouted from the opposite balcony.
Lexi and Claudia were jumping up and down hugging each other.
Mathew was slightly more subdued than he was after experiment 1. At least on the outside.
What he just experienced was a lot like DMT trips, like dreaming. He was … there’s no words really.
He stood up as if pulled by strings, eyes a little bugged, and walked down the spiral staircase.
The fam greeted him below with a group hug.
The moment was both sobering and ecstatic, like finding out your best friend died but left you 10 million dollars you did not know he had.
A long-lost feeling of megalomania crept up Mathew’s spine, a blanket of electric fleas scoured his body.
“I need to take a shower.”
“I’ll join you.” Lexi grinned.
“No.” Lexi’s sudsy goodness was the last thing he needed right now.
“OK, are you alright?”
“IDK, I just need time to think, and showers are a post-tripping, grounding ritual for me.”
Lexi couldn’t help but feel a little rejected. They had been together for a few months and still had not had a proper fuck. Was he evolving past his libido? Good for him, bad for her.
As he relaxed under the steam and spray the most neglected part of his ascension work suddenly felt obvious – breathwork. For him breathwork was choking down a bongrip. He could now sense the aether being drawn in with the air. He could feel his own merkaba charge with every inhalation.
“I am of this world but not in it.”
“I have cheated your stupid fucking reality.”
“I’m going to 1988 and I’m getting Kira.”
Kryon said you have to actually speak your intent. Someone was listening.
Mathew dried off and went to bed where Lexi was reading.
“Feel better, babe?”
“Yeah Lex, I feel amazing.”
He rested his head on her lap. She put the book down and pet his head until he fell asleep.
The next day Mathew noticed something odd – his white facial hair had a millimeter of black roots.
His crows feet were gone.
Let’s see: Free Energy, Antigravity, Teleportation, Time Travel & Age Regression, yeah, he could justify being a dick now. But he wouldn’t. Certainly not to fam, without whom none of this would have happened. Before experiment 3, he and they would need to have a super cereal convo.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“Mat, you are calling the shots here, but maybe we should consider going public?”
“That’s an ego trip.”
“But as an unsung inventor you must want fame and fortune for the years of study and loneliness...”
“I let that go years ago, it’s enough just to prove to myself I was right.”
“I get that.”
Eric was used to the academic and military channels of peer review, R&D, patents etc.
“You know about patent secrecy orders?”
“Yes.”
“You know about efforts at disclosure, Greer and all that?”
“Yes.”
“So from my perspective the government and the ufo community are against me. In their minds, only aliens can know this. We’ll either get robbed or killed if we go public.”
Mathew had a tone of certainty and defeatism.
“What if we send video to like, Joe Rogan or ...”
Mathew interrupted, “Oh, Joe Rogan, the same guy that thinks Elon Musk is a genius, HA, fuck that guy.”
Lexi cut in, “Dad, just let Matty figure out what’s next, OK?”
She hated to see Mathew stressed in any way. Mathew reached under the table and gave her thigh a little squeeze.
Claudia concurred, “Only he gets to decide.”
“Eric, I would never dream of cutting you out or denying your role in this, but seriously let’s do due diligence. I know we could go public somehow, but I’d rather focus on experiment 3 right now.”
“Heard.”
“Shall we eat and burn one?” Claudia suggested.
“I’m on it!” Lexi and Claudia left the boys to their convo.
“I guess you are right, I have the vest designed, I have parts for the second SC. I’ll get started tomorrow.” Eric was getting a bit wary now.
“Have you given any thought about going in yourself?”
“You seem to have survived,” Eric let out a little chuckle, “what happened while...”
“I guess the best way to describe it is … it’s like a lucid dream, I felt like I could do anything I wanted, I could still see you guys but it was more like an Alex Grey
painting version of you. I could see your auras … it was floaty.”
Eric was intrigued. He simply did not have the desire or bawz to go in though.
“I should go see if Dutchsinse picked this up.”
“Wait till tomorrow, please.”
“Yeah. Let’s go see what Lexi’s cooking up.”
Lexi was going basic tonight. Steaks, mashed taters, green beans.
The fam burned Colorado’s finest in the bubbler and watched PRIMER. All time travel sci-fi seemed all too relevant now. If Mathew could teleport you got a JUMPER
scenario. Why not teleport into a bank and steal stuff? Fuck it. If the world allows for chemtrails, gangstalking, human trafficking, deforestation, and commercials … For Mathew reality was truly a joke now, but instead of the victim version of the joke, everything else was now the butt. The altruistic intent he started with was caving to the omnipotent, megalomaniacal fantasies he harbored in the depths.
The scientist in him still wanted to see if Kira would turn out to be a cunt if she was raised properly. Raising Kira would also be a cure for his denied fatherhood; Piper was only a few months of surrogate daddyhood. Lilian was taken from him when she was 4.5 yo. No contact since. Then the thought occurred; I SHOULD GO KILL PEOPLE! Aunt Becky needs to die. His dad, his step mom, the lawyers, … NO! What is done is done. FUCK.
Why was Kira more important than his own daughter? Had they not both suffered the same fate of being molested? Maybe Mathew understood that like himself, Lilian’s fate was already set and she also had the spiritual fortitude to turn all her suffering into gold. Kira on the other hand was a lost cause, she was karmic fodder, she was a denied goddess.
Besides, Mathew already accepted parallel timelines. If he timenapped baby Kira, brought her back to the present, adult Kira would still be there, being an alcoholic BPD skankbot. Fuck. Kira could have been a model, a celebrated author, but she settled for crap. So much potential buried under self-doubt.
STUPID BITCH.
The following week was tense, but in a good way. Eric had the pressure of fabricating Mathew’s superpowers vest, Claudia had to adjust to being a mate, mom, and housekeeper again, Lexi’s pussy was all WTF? And Mathew, all the existential metaphysical shit. But somehow, they all came together, like a proper fam, it was pretty epic in it’s own foursome way.
Then one day, a Thursday close to Christmas, Mathew and Lexi decided it was time to venture out of the bunker. They bundled up and climbed the ladder up. Hatch opens. Desolation. Treeline in the near distance.
“Wait, I wanna camp out here, with you, let’s bushcraft!”
“OK, baby!” Lexi was thrilled her boy was all about them for a minute.
Mathew climbed back down and found Claudia.
“Did your dad stash any camping supplies?”
“What do you need, hon?”
“A saw, a hatchet, any tents?”
“Ha, Earl the Squirrel was a total prepper, let me show you the bunker to the bunker.”
With that Claud led Mat to a room he had yet to see.
“Wow!”
“Feel free to take whatever.”
“Thanks mom, I wanna camp out with Lex, is that cool?”
“Yeah, hon, just don’t go too far. We got some wokki tokki’s, so I’d feel better if we split em between us.”
“Yeah, any fresh batts?”
“Oh, right, we should test em.”
Claudia found the comms devices and Mathew found his tree stuff and tent, an old canvas tent.
It was not even noon. Lexi climbed back down and grabbed what she thought she needed for a night with Matty in the woods. The wokki tokki’s worked.
Even though the tent was tight, Mathew still wanted to chop and saw a little barrier and firewood, like fucking Matthew Posa.
“Oooh, babe, have you ever cooked out on a fire?”
Lexi had not but had, like Mat, seen a few bushcraft outdoorsey vids on yt.
“I’ll go back down and see if gramps stashed a grill and stuff.”
He had.
Backpacks stuffed, they trekked a couple hundred meters out from the hatch.
A FEW HOURS LATER…
Mathew still had his MP3 player and speakers built-in to his backpack.
This played as he started the fire with birch bark and magnesium.
https://youtu.be/vEfc5a1X9Wg -REVEAL
The snow was scooped away, the wind barrier of felled dead trees was erected, the ancient olive drab canvas tent was set up. All that was left was the cooking and the fucking, yes, fucking.
“I never met my gramps, but obviously he was cool as fuck.”
“Lex, truer words, this tent is older than either of us...Do you know anything about how he acquired the silo and for fucks sake, how he afforded it?”
“From what mom told me, he was, like dad, a military guy, he was involved in some secret shit, so...”
“That sounds likely.” Mathew paused, “Baby, I want tonight to be the night.”
“Verrry Gooood.” It’s like her pussy was talking.
He had suffered long enough. Every time he shook his post – pee sprinkles off he was just a few shakes from orgasm. His prostate was swollen as was his bawz. Lexi had been schooled on NOFAP at that point, she totally got off on Carezza, and his oral and hand skills, but the average white-boy cock was still waiting. 6.5 inches of perfectly straight throbbing, dangling power.
As per Posa’s vids, they cooked up Chicken Riggis and woofed it down. They stoked the fire and went into the tent.
The mats were inflated, the sleeping bags zipped together. Full of food and a phattie, the horny duo slinked down into their heat.
Mathew’s hand reached down to her aching pussy. He diddled and plunged with instinctive precision.
She hadn’t bothered shaving in weeks. She was getting frothy. His junk throbbed and leaked. Mathew climbed on top and got into entry position, she reached down and guided him in.
Lexi’s womanly goodness was as it should be, warm, sloppy wet, clenching.
Mathew’s MP3 brought up SKINNY PUPPY – LOVE.
His cock dove in, but slowly. They both expected him to cum instantly, but of course neither wanted that, and she was lovingly patient as he adjusted to this virtually new sensation.
“Sweetness, bear with me.”
“If you cum right now, I want it!” Lexi squealed with sincerity.
He did the return stroke out even slower. He took a DEEP breath and recounted in his mind the DON’T CUM mantra he concocted when pounding Kira – CONCRETE BASKETBALLS.
Whatever, it was better than thinking of ______.
It was pointless. He pulled out and jerked off the biggest load on her hairy mound, and her tummy, her neck, and face. Vocals and convulsions implied.
As frustrated as she was physically, Lexi was blissed out to have her man’s essence drench her. She scooped it up and ate it like manna.
“Is that better my lord?”
OH, she is good.
Mathew collapsed beside her, toes curling.
His dick was STILL HARD. One of those rare moments.
“Lexi, I’m still good, jump on, your turn.”
OH MY GOD. It was SOOOO good. Lexi sank down, arched her back and Matty thrust with abandon, knowing he was good for at least a few more minutes.
PRISMATIC
Captain's Log - DATE - whothefuckcares:
Eric came through like a champ, the second SC was installed in the vest, I blew my load on Lex, and I feel great. The year plus NOFAP streak demonstrated that I have dishaprin, but it ultimately does not matter; apparently the universe does not care so much about the purity of my meatbot - in the face of a singularity, ALL IS CLEANSED. Stupid christians and their "SINS". At least I have not killed anybody yet. That is a sin - to deny others theirs.
...The Island of Dark Butterflies
https://rantichrist.blogspot.com/2020/11/the-island-of-dark-butterflies.html
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