Muffled Man and Secret Sands. Also my gay best friend.

the Untitled Part 2 part of the series. Also my gay best friend.

It has been a week and two days forwar \d in time, but 3 days back,  ahh actually one day back, no, 3 days back?? noooo, it's actually 5 days back, no it's actually 6 days back and 3 days forward?? yeah 4 days back and 6 days forward since our encounter in the infantry palace.

Let me tell you about it - so basically, essentially, fundamentally, likewise, credentially, menstrually, emotionally, physically, mentally, and intellectually, we hit it off from the get-go! I didn't expect this to happen, especially so soon from my complaints. You see, even though I don't have a romantic relationship, and even though, I've been complaining about it before, I wasn't always like this, this fixation on getting me a companion romantically. I used to eat bamboo shoots of the side of the roads near tookiemookie kitchen. They'd throw it out for me because i'd be so hungry, because my fat ass of a best friend who is, I will say, right now, not connected btw, (homosexual people are not just can be fat asses), that he is gay also. He is also my best friend. Also we sleep together. In the same bed. Not like that, I mean, I wouldn't mind??/ Idk,  I would like to??? something is weird with that best friend. But that's just what best friends are for and what they sometimes are fucking like sometimes. Idk. I don't know how to talk about this without feeling. He's alright, I guess.  I love him. 

 i'm always fucking hungry because of it. Most of the time, I don't see him get out of bed. Actually, I never really see him *outside* of the bed, either. 

Some things are best ignored. But I can't ignore my need for love any longer. It's like my hunger - it is a need. 

Moving on. 

So anyways: We were in the infantry room, and whilst solidifying my place in the power dynamic of us two, as well as changing many an infants lives, maybe life-span to be completely honest, we had a very fucking special moment that I can never replicate in my lifetime. Not only because of the time, 12:54pm in the infantry firmary room (palace), and well, what the fuck kinda school has an infantry room?? The serene glow of the lights above mostly though, but him. He's so different. He wears an airplane attendants headset. He wears a red airplane-attendants jacket, black spanish looking pants (dont come agyer me i;m not racist it's just what ist is and dont put comments in the descriptijon about it, i wont listen haha "learn and listen" in da comments, yuh ok fuk yu), and some blackburry TCL four three two one zero phone shoes. Innovative.  He rides a keg to school, and I find that pretty cool. I find it interesting what he keeps in those zip-loc baggies and how he speeds off at night to the school basement. My school has a basement. It has a fucking infirmary infantry room, so it has a basement. You know why.

 He must have a dark past, the basement is dark. He's really mysterious. Like how joker is obviously the bad guy - Kevin Smith, this fucking quirky kegster guy, is mysterious. It's just obvious; a well known thing. Around school I hear people talk about his scandals and that makes me feel frustrated. Why can't I have fucking stories like that around school? All I have is that I have a fucking gay best friend, and I can't even smash!

He also has a semi-automatic mag pistol embedded in his left knee. He must get arthirtis at some point, having a big metal object that works.  I don't know how he'd take it out though, what if he shot himself? I think he was just lying in order to appeal to me, maybe. It would make sense, like that fucking bitching shit as fuck be cool as fuck. 

After we talk about conditions of the poly creed (he calls it this, kinda lame but it's cute), he says "So how would you like to be my wife or like chef or hmmm... like maid-worker?". He blushes and looks down to the floor, making a face that can only make me squirm with sheer sensational anger and happiness and sadness and anger, as his nails fall off due to stress. His eyes are bloodshot. He's a heroin addict probably. 

I hear the black and white synthesise, the verbalisation of the enigmatic acrylics I just had in my mouth and my nostril structures prior. I say to him, "You're a fucking flight attendant? I don't believe it, I thought you were just different...". 

As his hair turns white, again from the stress, his sweat mixing with his tears, his mouth quivers with embellished jewels and, idk, jealousy? 

I lunge at him, ripping off his retromolar trigone. He moans in delight, as he drops to the floor in sadomasochist fashion. I like fashion, it makes me happy. Yet he though, does not. 

My fucking braided neon-green, blue Carillion, and red extension from the inner workings of my brain coming out in the middle of my head, going down my shaved, skinhead skin head, travels down. This reminds me trisha paytas of, and I say to him in all glory of watching her videos and twitter stans, "It is my time to shine. Being with someone who dampens my light... I think i need to love myself, yeah, but I need to learn to be strong in this dysfunction. So, I'm not going to be wife. Simply saying no is enough pain. And that is good enough, I will be as strong as a cow. So, so, poly creed can go on". I hold back the tears, but they roll past my suspended totoro cat thigh high socks, anyway. 

He looks sad. I try comforting him, I touch his face with my hand, but the blood from his ripped off retromolar trigone keeps on getting in the way. Little flesh flaps go in and out of my fingers, like it's own entity. It's cute, just like. Like it doesn't want to die, like it wants to be in my arms 4evr. Mortality sinks in. It's so weird for this to be happening in an infantry. Life, Love, Death, even marriage!. How many things will I witness in my short omnipotent life?. I forgot to tell you that i'm a god. 

I cry as hard as can, because my fucking suspenders snapped off my thigh high totoro cat socks and i'm left with 4 bludgeons on my fucking legs. We cry into eachothers arms, Babies still screeching in the background. I don't care if I hurt in this world. I just want to hurt with him. 

When I came home, my gay best friend is still in bed. I think he might be depressed. I prod him sometimes with this stick I found that caught some saliva and pus from his mouth (he has an abscess from brushing his teeth, i've told him to go to the doctor but he doesn't want to communicate), he just slouches there still, head face down on pillow, not wobbling or anything. Immature. Sometimes if I prod him so hard I accidentally hurt him, but he understands. He just jiggles around if I do it too hard too.  He doesn't want to talk to me. We got in a fight. I always think about him when walking to school, I can't help it. It's the kind of love, where i'm just like, shit man, what would I do without you. You're like my fucking kin webkins bitch inside of me, ya know? I just love how he makes me feel needed, like that's it really. I don't know, he's just annoying and short and, well, gay, so it could never work out. And he's just annoying. Like superrrr annoyinggg, I sometimes can't believe how fucking long i've been in the apartment, goddamn.  But he makes me feel needed so, i'm thankful, I have nothing else to live for except him. But honestly, in all honesty, honestly, truthfully, I need him too. Obviously. I just said that before  basically. Idk.

So when I saw that fucking half-bitch of an animal slobbering at me and crying once I showed him how sexually open and comfortable I am with my god powers, it put me off really fast. But it's the hurt that brings me close to him. Before it was just the nails.