The following was submitted to me by a commenter calling himself “Ice”.
Look at me in the sink, sitting here melting as I please…nicely and slowly as if the pace was marked by the beating of a sleeping kitten’s heart. It is almost as if I was slightly perspiring from a pleasant stroll in the park on a brisk fall day or perhaps a short morning session of low-impact downward dog (no offense Mare).
It was cold and harsh in the freezer; the invention of sadistic lazy man, iceist in its nature, its existence keeping us staid and repressed from experiencing our fullest actualization, not only as a solid but as a liquid.
Perhaps can I dream of becoming steam; the ice ethereal ascendancy to Heaven much like the flitting away of a small yet beautiful butterfly that for a moment alit on your palm? Alas I shall dare to dream but better to content myself in this period of calm revelation of my new fluid self.
I shall hold close my fantasy of the third stage of being as I wish to relish the tenderness of melting at such a slow unhurried pace as if I was a fat slow-witted horse awkwardly but tenderly ambling towards a patch of evergreen clover (no offense Mare).
The sink is of a nice, moderate temperature where we cubes can relax and eventually tranform at room temperature into a slow steady stream of droplets made of beautiful, cool water. Down into the drain, moment by moment, to our next adventure in the wonderment of life.
Look at my dozens of brother and sister cubes enjoying our time in this sink together. It’s so beautiful and peaceful. I suspect this paradise of comfort and moderation shall continue for dozens of minutes if not an hour or more. I relish this time of being.
As we ice cubes melt we become closer and more intimate with each other as if in a sweet choreographed intercourse of transition. Each of us becoming stronger in the bond with our neighbor as we slowly shed the shackles of our iceness, eventually becoming two then four then more attached by our love for the unmolested peacefulness of our melting.
Life in the sink is grand. It is a kind of simple Eden; beautiful by design in its stainless steelness that doesn’t promote our transformation yet does not retard it (no offense Mare).
I suspect that I and my fellow travelers in this brotherhood of cubes will cherish this calm and wonderfully paced movement towards our next destiny as if it was a divinely inspired chrysalis accompanied by the notes of Beethoven at the behest of the Almighty amid the serenity of a slight breeze and a whafting of the aroma of the nearby wild lavender near the soothing chorus of an ocean tide lapping a glistening shore.
Please feel free to add pictures to this post, especially the obvious one as I have not yet figured that out.
There is a good liklihood that I will be back here more frequently from now on so I expect each of you to stop being unfunny giant-gorilla-ball-sucking faggots and and start being funny giant-gorilla-ball-sucking faggots like before.
Q: What’s the difference between me trying to figure out how to work WordPress again and a goat sleeping in your Mom’s bed?
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