The Time Traveller’s Orgasm.

*Sigh

Let’s do this one more time, because why the fuck not, right?

I am a time traveller. Well, that’s not entirely accurate.

I can’t jump through time like in Endgame or Back to the Future. No, that’s ridiculous. What I can do, is turn back the clock. Let’s say, I was craving Waakye in the morning, so I went and bought some. Say I bought it with meat, but then I got home, and I realised the Waakye seller forgot to put the fucking meat on the Waakye even though she charged me for it.

I wouldn’t get angry …

I would just turn back time to morning. Then, I would go buy my Waakye from somewhere else.

You get it. I’m a time traveller.

It does take some effort, but I’m able to trigger the turn-backs at will. I have control. I know you’ve dreamt of an ability like this. Most people have. Well, you can have it if you want.

Here’s why I can’t deal anymore.

I went on a downward spiral after I developed these powers. I couldn’t maintain my relationship. I broke her heart. Anyway, time passes, no pun intended, and I’m finally ready to get back out there.

I meet a girl at a bar. She’s cute. With a little help from my gift of temporal manipulation, hitting the right buttons is a joke. Now, I wanna hit. Something other than the right buttons.

We end up back at her place.

When we kiss, she does a thing with her tongue that drives me absolutely crazy. Things get heated and I get shoved into a wall. The pain doesn’t even register; she’s aggressive in a way that’s completely intoxicating.

Naturally, we end up on her bed, and our clothes take the brunt of our lust; thoughtlessly flung to different sectors of the bedroom.

“Yes! Yes!” She moans, and the stiffness in my arms from hovering myself on top of her just disappears; I’m not falling until I cum.

Her moaning gets louder and I know she’s close. I’m right there too.

“Yes! Oh yes! Now! Give it to–“

“… how about you get me a drink and we see how things go from there?”

What in the actual fuck just happened?

Instead of cumming, I turned back time to earlier in the evening. To when I’d just met her. The thing is, I knew the instant before it happened, but I couldn’t stop it. Like a sneeze.

So I say to myself, never mind. Just shake it off. I can do this again.

An hour, and a conversation later, she connects with me like she never has with anyone she just met. It’s fate. And we’re back at her place again.

“Yes! Oh yes! Now! Give it to–“

“… how about you get me a drink and we see how things go from there?”

Are you fucking kidding me right now? Okay. Deep breath. One more time. I already know the answers to this quiz.

“Yes! Oh yes! Now! Give it to–“

“… how about you get me a drink and we see how things go from there?”

AAARRRRRGGGGGHHHH! Why is this happening?

*Sigh

So that’s it. I can’t make it to climax. Anytime I come close, time rewinds back to before I’m getting laid. That’s what’s up. Do you still want this? You’ll never have an orgasm again. You could probably do the superhero thing though.

You don’t really have to answer. I know how this goes. You see, you’ve read this before.

Way too much Zen.

Fuck the platitudes you plaster all over my timeline.

Stop telling me things whispered by sages… behind keyboards.

The Devil Calls after Midnight.

It’s been nine months into the cursed job, and I still can’t tell the damn phones apart. They torture me; ringing only after midnight. I hear a ring, and I pray to the deities of all that is pure and the deities of all that is luck; let me answer the right one. Each time, it crushes my soul when I choose wrong.

I just got off the phone with a customer. He threatened to call back in fifteen minutes. Fifteen minutes after 2am. I begged him not to, but he wouldn’t listen. The bureaucracy was too strong with that one. His mother never taught him how to have mercy on strange men.

They brought new stationery in this morning. Yes, I’m sure proper maintenance keeps hell running with peak efficiency as well. The next time a phone rings, any phone, I’m going to take the shiny new perforator, I’m going to put it against my throat and I’m going to punch into the thickest vein I feel.

Yeah, that’ll show them.

Dead End.

Dr. Kludze raises his seven-year old grandson onto his laps, just as his grandfather had done when he was a child. His grandfather had told him stories of the Ewe; stories wreathed in the traditions and the pride of his people. How he wished for a world where he could sit lazily under the shade of an Oak tree and continue tradition, telling his grandchildren those same stories about their rich heritage but alas, there was no Oak tree and the history lesson he was about to give was a far more recent one.

You know, Senyo. Before the entire planet became a barren wasteland, it used to be beautiful. 

He struggles to recollect the images from his past.

Oceans stretched far beyond what the human eye could see. There were forests that went on for days and the Earth was filled with all manner of animals. Before I came here, I lived in a country that wasn’t very developed but it’s people had spirit and it was a tough place to grow up. I miss that toughness now and how I wish that country still existed and that you could see it, my boy.

We, humans, revelling in our intelligence and its fruits, we had completely conquered our planet and we went looking to the vastness of space for our next challenge. How naive we were.

I still remember the day we were forced to pay for our boldness. Yes, as if it was yesterday. 

Tears fill the eyes of the seventy-something year old man.

It started with the fiery space rocks. Rocks the size of cities rained down from the skies and the technology we had spent millennia developing; the technology that our species worshipped, was powerless in the face of the fiery torrent. The destruction that was left in its wake is indescribable and by the time it was over the planet was reduced to barely a tenth of it’s population.

When the actual invasion started we had not even the slightest means of holding them off, let alone putting up a fight.

The Professor loses the little control he has over his emotions and bursts into tears. And with that the seven-year old boy speaks for the first time.

“That was a very touching story, human,” the boy says, taking off the metallic gloves he’s wearing to reveal slime soaked tentacles that slowly coil themselves around the crying old man’s throat.

A loud snap replaces the sounds of choking and muffled sobs.

A Song of Office Wear and Staplers.

“Come forth, Stay-Cee of the house Information Systems,”

A young woman, appearing to be in her early twenties; the prime of her youth, walks up to the Lords and Managers seated at the high table.

“Yes, my lord,” she says timidly, with her head slightly bowed.

“You have been called here today, Stay-Cee of the house Information Systems, because you have been accused of an infraction on the dress code,” the man seated at the head of the table informs court.

Tears start forming in the eyes of the girl accused. “Yes, my lord, I know of these charges levied against me.”

“Stay-Cee, how do you plead?”

“My lord,” the girl starts, raising her hands to reveal pink-painted nails, longer than what is natural. The crowd gasps; simultaneous aahhh’s fill the room before the girl continues, “I was not aware, my lord. I didn’t know. I didn’t know!”

She has gotten herself into quite a bit of trouble. Trouble quite beyond her depth. She turns to a corner of the room, and she sees Lord Grey-Ish, a man known for his cunning and his signature patches of grey hair. Suddenly, a smile forms on her face.

She remembers Lord Grey-Ish’s secret conversations with some managers from House HR. House HR was one of the most influential houses on the Seven-Floor Office of West-Legon, and she had faith in Lord Grey-Ish, even though people told her she shouldn’t trust him. She knew what she had to say, he had told her so.

“My lord,” the girl speaks up, “I wish to press charges against my accuser; Lord App-Iah of House Accounting.”

Suddenly, with the girl’s words, there is murmuring in the court, filling it out.

“Silence!” the overseeing Lord at the high table shouts, “What charges could you possibly bring towards your accuser, Stay-Cee?”

“My lord… sexual harassment,” the girl says plainly, sending the room into an uproar.

Over the loud arguments, and exclamations of disbelief, looks are exchanged. Lord App-Iah shoots Lord Grey-Ish a knowing look; a look that would be menacing if it wasn’t undone by his own terror. Lord Grey-Ish gives a subtle nod to the Lord of HR sitting at the high table, and then another one to somebody else seated at the high table. The High Lord of House Accounting.

Demons.

I cling to my demons, for who would I be without them?

Where would be my depth?

Venom: To Silverbird or To uTorrent?

Where to start, where to start…

Going into this movie I read a bunch of different critic reviews, which supposedly were bad in order to favour this movie: A Star is Born… or some conspiracy like that.

Anyway, I went into the movie with somewhat lowered expectations. And to be honest, the critics were… both right and wrong? Let me explain. First off, Venom doesn’t have that wholesomeness we’ve come to expect of Marvel movies, which makes sense because this is a Marvel movie in source only; it was made by an entirely different studio, Sony. That aside, the movie does very well even though it feels like it shouldn’t work, and I feel most of this can be credited to Tom Hardy’s performance. His Eddy Brock is edgy and humorous in a very self-aware way that easily hits home with viewers, however in the self-discovery or should I say we-discovery (every good review needs at least one bad pun) part of the movie, the script makes him do some things which, frankly, seem like low-effort comedic cheap shots Hardy, Eddy and Venom are too cool for.

We are…

Personally, the movie felt kind of short because of how simple the plot was. Everything went as expected and there were no surprises, really. Which brings me to my final point; no risks were taken.

Venom is undoubtedly a very good stand-alone movie (Spider-who??) but also, it had everything necessary to be extraordinary –from the special effects, and the action sequences to the acting– everything was on point yet Venom chooses to play it safe, simple script and a PG–13 rating; A guy’s head gets chewed off, literally, and it feels like someone popped a balloon.

The verdict: you should definitely see this in Cinemas. Watching Venom in cinemas, in my opinion, makes the movie better because scenes that wouldn’t be so hype watching alone really flourish with people shouting ‘Abooa!!’ all around. You absolutely will not regret paying for this.

Also, I can’t get Eminem’s Venom from the soundtrack out of my head. Here’s the video.

 

Scars.

Beauty is so easily foiled,

By experience,

Immemorable. Save for the scars.

God is a Drummer.

The drums sit, unbeaten,

Unaware of the sounds they harbour.

Mighty instruments of thud and bass;

Purposeless,

Devoid the will of the drummer.

Opinions.

My opinions are not my own,

I just manage them.