“I have just woken up in a stranger’s bed. It appears that we used cling film as contraception and there are bottles of WKD and trays of chips all over the floor. What do I do?”
So here you are.
Lying among the piles of faeces and fortified liquids, you awaken. There sits yesterday’s mistake. You look closer…’mum?’, no. You shake your head and look again. Her appearance bears similarities to the womb that bore you; her skin wet and murky, her noises questionable.
You toe some cling film and consider the implications of re-inserting, as the risk is long past fixable. Maybe you’ve impregnated this swamp creature, and maybe it’s this chip tray, stuck on her backside that compels you to turn over and reconsider.
Always. Why does this always happen? You wonder how many lives you’ve created by carelessly wrapping the nearest empty wrapper to your inadequate appendage, announcing the privilege of your presence as you bore your lover to sleep, while thrusting absentmindedly at ‘ahead’.
There are a number of solutions to any given problem; death being the most obvious. Actually, death may very well be the only solution. Be it death of the body and mind, or death of an old you as you move to the newer and better. But I will say that ultimate annihilation has usually been the solution for humans, and I don’t see why not now.
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