08-25-2016, 08:30 AM
Everything’s in its place or he tells himself it is, the steps match, the places the beings. He has done it he has to remind himself, he can do it, he needs to say. How on earth did Fart ever make a herd, claim a land? Coincidence, chance, fate? If any of those matter, if any of those are true, it must be one of them- mustn't it? As much as it does not make sense, somehow it does, somehow he knows it to be right. A male makes a herd, a male keeps them safe, makes a home, makes a life and a family. Typical and yet here he was, scouring the fields and meadows and still doubting himself. Likely he would never truly stop that, would always put himself down inwardly, have that small grain of what if lurking in the back of his mind.
Today, today he could try to focus though, could attempt another friendship.
He finds something curious even, something dark and different and he is reminded of Grumble again. Always. Something always steers his mind back to the place and there is no exception now. He killed it, smashed it over and over though it could not fight back. It was unnecessary then, just as the thought likely is now and he could not forget it, could not siphon it from his mind. Was he dark then too, in that moment? He was capable of great darkness sure but it is not something he wished to practice, to feed the evil wolf and starve the good one. No, not Fart.
Still, she beckons him somehow, the strangeness to her body, the alien shapes that form each curve of her silhouette. It is perfectly plain that she is something to be feared, that before him is a feral being because his mind tells him it is so, just as it tells him many things. Yet Fart knows differences if he knows anything and thus he approaches her before all others. Offers an awkward, “Hello” through the split in his limey lips.
Today, today he could try to focus though, could attempt another friendship.
He finds something curious even, something dark and different and he is reminded of Grumble again. Always. Something always steers his mind back to the place and there is no exception now. He killed it, smashed it over and over though it could not fight back. It was unnecessary then, just as the thought likely is now and he could not forget it, could not siphon it from his mind. Was he dark then too, in that moment? He was capable of great darkness sure but it is not something he wished to practice, to feed the evil wolf and starve the good one. No, not Fart.
Still, she beckons him somehow, the strangeness to her body, the alien shapes that form each curve of her silhouette. It is perfectly plain that she is something to be feared, that before him is a feral being because his mind tells him it is so, just as it tells him many things. Yet Fart knows differences if he knows anything and thus he approaches her before all others. Offers an awkward, “Hello” through the split in his limey lips.
dont you know that youre toxic?
