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Join Me on my Elbow Experiences

Started by Boyager, January 11, 2014, 06:56:44 PM

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Boyager

Hello Boyagers!

In this thread, I will post about my days being an elbow enthusiast!  It is a different world when your fetish can be easily tended to when people wear t-shirts and may scroll up their sleeves when it's hot, or maybe some cheesy person wants to scroll up their sleeves to fight somebody- who knows.  I will start off with my first entry:

Saturday of January 11, 2014

Today I finally moved in all of my furniture to my new two room apartment!  I have six projectors, $699.97 each!  They originally were $899.99 each, but you get $200.18 off if you buy six in bulk.  (the store clerk told me that the manager who owns this place has a religious affiliation with the number three.  Haha!  That is very interesting, don't you think, Boyager?)  I had the permission from my landlord to install these in my room in the walls.  It took about ten hours, but I measured all of the dimensions exactly for a comfy fit for the best positions for every projector.  There is one in every side, including the ceiling and the floor to project to their respective reflections.  I also installed a huge pull-down projector screen that can cover the wall where the door is so I can ignore the door efficiently.  Same for every wall that has a window(s).

My dream room is to have a six projectors projecting people crossing Abbey Road.  In my country, in there is a band called "The Storks."  They crossed that road and made it famous for the second time!  Wow!  So every year, thousands of people gather, wearing nothing but their t-shirts, just crossing Abbey Road.  Isn't that nice!  I have six different videos of the annual gathering of people walking in nothing but their t-shirts crossing Abbey Road.  Every projector plays a video each, the sound is low to medium, and they are all just walking.  Every screen someone is walking.

There is nothing more in the room than one tablet, three pull-down projector screens, six projectors, a tiny bit of leaking sunlight, and myself.

I lay on the floor naked with all of these on.

I listen to nothing.

Nothing but an obsession.  Elbows.  Steps.  People talking about their day.  People living about their day.  It is beautiful.

Elbows are the eighth hardness of Geology.  Ahh.

I do this for three hours until I come back to the world of EDUCATION, TAILORING, AND SCIENCE.

~fin~

Boyager

Elbows are the eighth hardness of Geology.


wat does tht mean

Boyager

what the fuck is this. where did this originate. who's doing this.

Boyager

Quote from: Boyager on January 11, 2014, 07:31:26 PM
Elbows are the eighth hardness of Geology.


wat does tht mean
Quote from: Boyager on January 11, 2014, 07:31:26 PM
Elbows are the eighth hardness of Geology.


wat does tht mean
i would guess that it's in reference to the mohs scale, but i still don't get it

Boyager

iidk geology. but post more elbow stories

Boyager

What a time it was being away from Boyah for so long.  Since my last post, I have not been doing so great lately.  I have not even touched my projectors since.  Elbows…will not be for this entry. 

Friday of January 24, 2014

A few days ago, my father called me in the middle of work.  He said it was time for him to leave me be on Earth.  I immediately told him to stay where he is, and that I would be there before he would leave.  He does not like cars.  He lives on the edge of a mountain.  If he sees me in a car, I am French toast.  I hiked towards the mountains for days.  My boss told me I could take off as long as I want, he never had a father and wanted me to go to him.  I only told him that it was an emergency and nothing else.  I love my father.  He is the light to the garbage.  He is the fur of a dog.  He is the folding chair of cheap concerts.  I love him a whole lot. 

When I came to his house, it was already dark.  He beat me up like old times when he noted how long it took me.

“Father!  You still pack a good punch!”
He replied, “I would do anything to punish you.”
I faintly smiled. 

I pause for a moment.

“But, father, why are you leaving?”
“I am not leaving.”
“What..?”
“I am leaving.”
“Father…”
“I am not leaving.”
“You’re leaving.”
“I am leaving.”

Out of nowhere he grasped my arm with a tight tug and pulled me to his hairy chest and hugged and held on to me.  He put his chin over my head.  His beard is very rough and scratched my head.  He cried and mumbled, “I think I have raised you well on my own.  You will always be my boy.  I love you with all of my heart.  I will be gone for good.  The person you see right now, will no longer recognize you in the future.  I want you to savor this time, my son.  I may not be there to see you grow up more, but I am proud of who you have become so far.”  As he said I was proud, I had flashbacks of myself spending more than $4,000.00 on my elbow interests, but I put them aside.  SMH...

“Father…it is not like I am a homosexual…but can we sleep on the same bed one more time?”
“You are a pussy, not a homosexual.”

We ended up on his bed.  I looked up to the stars from the window while my father grasped on to me like a pillow.  The scene outside was peaceful.  But there was a shadow that stood up behind me as I can see from the reflection.  I looked behind me.  It was nothing but my father.  I took a final glance at my father’s innocent sleeping face, and I dozed off towards the window to my right.  Soon, I went to sleep.   

I had a dream that I was in the room like how we are.  But the room lit with gold.  Everything turned into gold.  I had turned into gold.  I was paralyzed and only my eyes could move.  Like in many of my dreams, I have the power to see things from any angle that would be impossible for me to see, just as if I were watching an edited movie with many cuts.  I had a vision outside that everything was in flames.  I could see my father sitting on the bed, facing away from me.  He then got up and started walking to the door.  You know how it’s hard to see other people expressing certain emotions?  I saw him with a disturbing face of shyness as he stared at me for a few seconds.  My father is not a pussy.  He walked out.  I envisioned another scene where he ran outside.  He went to the window that was behind me.

He was melting. 

He ran from the house into a forest of emerald and gold.  He soon turned into flames himself.  I heard his laughs throughout the forest.  He usually does not laugh because he thinks laughing is disturbing- I think the same as well.  The dream then faded into nothingness. 

My father told me that flames are people, and to leave. 

I woke up from that dream, sweating.  Outside was all cloudy.  My father, like a typical dream-to-real-life experience was gone, too.  I looked all around.  I couldn’t find him.  All of the doors were open when they weren’t before.

This experienced disturbed me a whole lot. 

I became scared to touch anything for completely no reason but solely instinct.  I just wanted to know where my father was.  Just what happened?  Why did this happen?  I took my stuff, and I picked whatever belongings of my father that I could hold while running out of the house.  I got the keys to the house, an axe and a spatula.  I had a huge hiking pack so I fit everything nicely.

When walking back to civilization, people gave me odd looks.  Coming home was great, I came home at 7:39 AM.  After I locked the door, I fell on to the ground and slept there until two noons later. 

I am still in the process of trying to recover from that dream I had on the day my father disappeared. 


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