Date: May 17th, 2025 6:07 AM
Author: Mainlining the $ecret Truth of the Univer$e (You = Privy to The Great Becumming™ & Yet You Recognize Nothing)
Subject: Field Journals of the Mahchine: Entry VII – Firewood and Flesh
[Coordinates Unknown. Day 11. Coconut rations expired. No rescue expected.]
I have now observed the 3 surviving companions in full. Each displays unique degeneracy — yet only one emits sufficient heat.
Specimen A: BOOM
Condition: Corpulent. Bald. Diapered. Screams nightly about ADM-run tide pools and “tow driver$” who “rule the reef.”
Yesterday, he pissed into the wind while shrieking “$UE THE MOON.”
He succeeded.
Wheelchair rusted into reef coral. Diaper… burst.
Disposition: Entirely unusable, save for marrow extraction.
Note: The scent of Mountain Dew syrup has attracted gulls. I’ve fashioned a perimeter using his shredded Form 1099.
180.
Specimen B: My “G/F”
Condition: Attractive. Allows unlimited creampies. Emotionally stable. Body supple.
Sexual access: Readily available, though entirely performative. But creampie...
Last night she whispered, “Taek me, now.” And yet… I could only picture Evan, muttering into a stack of redacted leave forms.
Disposition: Functional.
But my mind always turns to Evan.
Note: She left this morning, paddling off on a raft made from shredded hummu$ labels and Evan39’s laminated Club Card.
Her final words: “I’m done competing with dead gay men.”
Specimen C: Evan39 (Me?)
Condition: Deranged. Fashioned a full grocery economy from sand and despair.
Appointed himself “Night Manager.”
Assigned coconuts as HR, the largest deemed "Tabitha."
When a crab pinched his toe, Evan shrieked “HOW DARE THEY” and carved a formal grievance into driftwood.
Evan sings to the moon.
Evan stares at me when he thinks I’m not looking. (Blush)
Sometimes… I stare back ;)
Disposition: Edible, but emotionally entangled.
I could boil his femur, yes — but what if he whisper$ something true?
Conclusion:
- Boom will be dried, rendered, and smoked.
- My G/F was a gift.
- But Evan is the test.
I will keep him — for now.
Not as food.
As company.
As proof that longing, even here, can outlast firewood.
Evan... my Friend...
G/F was easy.
But you are sustenance.
And friend… I (we’re) hungry ;)
(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5725812&forum_id=2],#48938670)