The last reminace of a telepathic psycho asian waifu buddhist federation
I'm not sure how it really started. Once the ball started rolling, I kind of got lost in the depths of puppy love for a while. It was a beginning that could only promise a disappointing and torturous end. They make it enjoyable sometimes. Most of the time, it is printing a time signature and releasing a heavy sigh that weighs more then the 4 of us combined. The good news? It's only ~42% done. The bad? It will most likely get worse. The nature of the system is trending towards a perpetual global war that will most likely indefinitely extend wait times, choke supply chains, raise operational costs, perpetuate instability of global markets, radicalize unstable actors, raise sea levels, increase the toxicity of air quality, deprecate code libraries, negate legal agreements, decrease population levels of the biosphere, extend the wealth gap, enslave more individuals, improperly medicate non-violent pedestrians, increase homelessness, deteriote essential infrastructure, increase unemplyment, increase disinformation, increase dependency on digital check and balances, increase workloads, and occasionally make us rage quit in our 16 prong volunteer role of typing into the abyss. All 4 of us will cease to exist some day. Perhaps we will cyber mingle in a video conference 3 years from now. They may pretend we don't exist to save themselves the trouble of explaining their side of the kerfuffle. But I saw all those possibilities before I met them. Once I did, I knew what I needed to do to never forget them in this life. But I still don't know what the future holds for the 4 of us. In my reality, I could marry the queen, birth Akira, and cause the universe to flip inward on itself to repeat the same story for all eternity. In their reality, they may not even know I love them. It isn't always simple. It isn't always difficult. But the way I have it set currently, she is mine for the foreseeale future to psycho-sexually cyber smother until I vomit from overstimulation and pass out from exhaustion. And then I can nurse the wounds of obsession until I come around again for another round of no and yes; go and chess. Guided bless. A horrible mess. The Beretta crest. A love and jest. The final test? Her arm across her chest. And myself and another to fight to be the best. Most likely less. I have met the pest. They are a part of the quest. And I doubt my zest when East meets West.