My wife is off limits, at least vaginaly. We’re almost at our six week mark, but she’s got stitches sticking out of her labia. Her clitoral cleft sending me back to work on Friday. There is so much editing that I have yet to do. Can’t help but think that it would be best for me to be allowed some time to myself, in a solitary location, with all of my responsibilities being met, money coming in from my salary plus the money that I hope to have coming in, but don’t believe will actually materialize, from the completion of this novel that I’ve put together via my various mechanisms.
This is the story of having children. That’s where we’re at, and let me tell you, there are cracks in the foundation. People are falling through, and entities are rising from the depths of my subconscious. I have to ask you, at this point, if you still trust me to walk with you through the night. I’ve got a lot of baggage. I might not be the most reliable narrator. The enemy within is attacking with a vengeance.
I am a jerk to you. Is it time to retire? Let’s be honest though, you haven’t been the kindest to me either. A little too ambivalent for my taste. Happy not to be incarcerated, but come on, where’s my easy money? Where’s my star on the walk of fame? Why do I have to keep my foot here? I’ve got a child now. The new Destiny is coming out. I’m leader of my mobile gaming community. I’ve got a body and a face. Bye bye bibles.