You and Me and Like, Where Do We Go, After All This Time?

By - Jan 13, 2020

I fucked my best most prestigious dog in the world today. Fucking my best dog in the world felt so good. I was at my best when I fucked my best dog. No one could hold a candle to my dog when we fucked.
I wanted this story to be great 500 years from now. But, in 500 years, bestiality will be normal. So I failed, since the story will read something like:

     I fucked my girlfriend. Fucking my girlfriend was so good. I was at my best when I fucked my girlfriend. No one could hold a candle to my girlfriend when we fucked.
     Well then, forever onwards.
I fucked my girlfriend with greatness in my heart. My girlfriend felt my greatness in my heart when we fucked. My girlfriend felt it so much that she cried. That’s how good my fucking my girlfriend was. No one else fucked my girlfriend like that ever before.

     No matter how much I hurt when my girlfriend left I was still so great. I was so great because I knew the truth. I knew the truth and my girlfriend didn’t know the truth and that’s because I was great. Knowing the truth was great and I was fancy and I worked hard in this life. And even though my girlfriend worked the hardest, even though she put so many hours into her career, I was even greater than her. How great was she? I mean, just the other day my girlfriend said she sang for four hours. She has a baby and the baby takes more than four hours, and she has to cook and cooking combined with the baby takes more than six hours, and she has to clean and cleaning combined with the baby and the cooking takes way more than I can even think of. My girlfriend looked at all those things and she still sang a song about me and our love and that song that she sung about me and our love took four hours to finish.
No matter how great she really was, I knew even more. God told me I was great when I prayed to him and God told me I was great when I put words on the page and God told me that all of my rejections, all of them throughout the whole world had come because I was great. God gave me my secret and my secret was dangerous. He told me I was so great and so pure it was dangerous. Then my girlfriend learned that I had fucked my best dog in the best world and she didn’t think that was the greatest thing in the world that I could do.

     My girlfriend thought my dog fucking was my problem and thought it was abysmal and she never even told me why no matter how hard I tried to get her to. No matter how many times and how many questions I asked her she never said why she hated me. And no matter how many times and how many arguments I had with her she didn’t think I was great anymore.
     My girlfriend was so convinced that I was so sick she said I was so sick and she was so tired of being so right that I couldn’t even comprehend how sick I really was. She said I was so sick that I should be put in a home where there weren’t any animals allowed and there weren’t any women allowed and she said not even her own daughter should be allowed and so, because I loved her, I was put there.
And when I went home without an ambulance and I went into my front door without my dog jumping up and down and I went up into my room with my television set I said, “This is it Marston, this is the last time you ever fuck something up so bad and forever and if you fuck something up this bad again you will be finished and through and no one will ever love you.” So I knew I couldn’t fuck it up like how I fucked it up before no matter how much God spoke to me and no matter how many songs he sang into my heart.
I went into my study and I read a book and in between reading the book, and in between flipping the pages, and in between noting the language, I looked at my phone. Even though my dog was gone, I felt my dog on the couch beside me. I felt my girlfriend too. I felt the loyalty of all of them and I felt the passion of them all and even the quiet way my dog watched as I read. Despite all evidence, I knew that they were right there with me.
How did I know? It’s because I read so much and I wrote so much. It’s because when I wrote I felt God and I felt home and I felt really good at what I did. I felt profoundly good at what I did. I knew the profound and how good it felt and so I let it speak to me. The profound said, “I love you Marston, I love you so much and you are good. You are really special and please don’t let other people tell you who is going to do what because other people don’t do what you do so well.”