Don’t Come Back 2020
Photo by Erwan Hesry on Unsplash
As a farewell post for the end of the year, the entire universe agrees 2020 was a pothole.
The darkest timeline.
Once the world gets the all-clear and escapes the Hellmouth, I’m getting ready to fill a decade, nay, a millenia of debauchery, vice and immense joy with cute subbies.
Today I was Covid swabbed by a cutie in his army uniform. Being told to lean into the headrest while penetrating my orifices is certainly one way to ring out the year.
Self-isolation gives one lots of time to think.
About what I want.
About all the things planned for 2020 shredded to pieces.
And it’s okay.
We’re here.
I’m writing this.
Somewhere and sometime in the world, you’re reading these words.
And we’re together in this fleeting moment.
As always, my best wishes to you.
Especially for 2021.