Oh No, It’s Time

The sun rises and we are wrenched away from each other. With long, flowing arms, you beckon me back to you. I return your longing. I could spend forever peacefully floating with you. You make all of my wildest dreams come true. When I am with you, I am home. But your enemy brutally takes me away without care for our conversation. He threatens me with consequence if I return to you without permission. We are regimented in our time together, and it is never enough for me.

In the afternoon, I see you again. Joy overcomes me. I fall back into your lover’s embrace, your soft body touching mine intimately. Your smooth hands lull me and erase the troubles of the day. With you, all the pain and suffering, all the laughter and happiness wash away into nothingness.

After night has fallen and the midnight bell tolls, I may return to you. It no longer feels like a choice. You become my jailer, forcing me to spend long hours with you. Being in your arms feels like tightening arms on a straight-jacket. You scare me. Sometimes I wonder if you will ever let go. When we are together, I am not to be with anyone else. Just you and I, and sometimes the strange, blurred figures and shapes that visit me. If I struggle free, it is only until you pull me back under. So drowsy and sluggish, it is an easy battle for you. You control my time until I’m strong enough to fight you off. When I am, I spring away as quickly as possible, not to see you again, if I’m lucky, until the sun reaches its peak.

I sigh, looking at my watch and thinking, Oh no, it’s time for bed.

Hopefully you liked my clever little ode to my bed. Sorry for the weird mannerisms; I’m reading Wuthering Heights right now.

Would this be accurate for your ode to your bed? Let me know!

My bed and I have a love/hate relationship. I am a horrible sleeper. I stay up late at night, hate waking up in the morning, and am tempted into napping in the afternoon.


The Last Couple on Earth

While I’m working on my next few pieces, I thought I might tide you over with a question.

Imagine you are either the man or woman in the last couple on Earth. You and your partner are both fertile and heterosexual; you are both capable and willing to reproduce.

Do you choose to mate and restart the human race? Or, should it die out with yourselves?

I think in most cases, our initial reaction is, yes, without a doubt. Reproduction is my duty and responsibility. My only qualm in this scenario is, should humanity get a second chance? Do we deserve it?

I’m reading Mira Grant’s Symbiont, wherein parasites try to take over their human hosts and, from there, the world. The parasitic humans in favour of domination argue that humans have made poor choices for the world, leading it into war, crime, and destruction. It’s actually quite ironic, since to take over the world, they are actually killing millions and have a pro-war stance. But it made me wonder if they had a good point.

I think I would choose reproduction. Especially knowing that life would be simplistic; there would be no continuing on as we were. I have an environmentally-concerned side that you don’t get to see on my site. I hate seeing what we have and continue to do to the Earth, and the lack of action and reform. We may watch a documentary or read an article, but that usually doesn’t motivate us to change our ways. I’m also a big fan of the underdog. I’m not sure why, but make me watch sports or a competition I know nothing about, and I root for the underdog.

You have seen how we treat ourselves, peers, animals and nature in your own experiences.

Are we too greedy and destructive as a result? Is there enough hope and innate goodness to start again? What would your choice be?


The introverted part of me could be in a room full of people and still want to be alone, having that night’s solo adventure.

I go to parties, very much looking forward to seeing people and chatting with them, and yet I always manage to find myself alone in the quiet at some point during the night. Be it on the empty strip of beach, a lonely rooftop, or in an abandoned room, I find it.

I always thought that was the attention-seeking part of me, wanting someone to come find me. That’s part of it, but there’s also my inner introvert saying it needs a break and wants a moment of separation to enjoy the sky, the air, or some silence.

Exposed & Uncomfortable

“What are you doing?” He shouts, uncomfortable with what he just saw.

“I was getting changed!” She responds, like this is perfectly reasonable. If that were true, she wouldn’t be half-hidden and crouched down behind a desk, he thinks.

He throws out his hands and questions, “In a room filled with windows?”

“It was dark!”

As if that justifies it.

“You could have locked the door!” He says, before he walks out and waits outside. He feels his cheek, which is now a bright shade of pink. That’s just like her. Keeping him on his toes, as usual.


“But I had so much hope.”


“Well honey, an hour ago I had a homemade piece of pecan pie, topped with a dollop of fresh whipped cream. As amazing as it was, it’s gone now.”

Words About Bacon


Crispy, curly.

Peameal, pork.

My delicious desire.