I know that I could crawl into bed and never leave it again, like those people you hear about on TV. I could easily be one of them, it would be so comfortable; its really a dream come true, imagine it: to never have to get up again, to not have to go to work, to make money, to pay bills, to not have to do_ fucking_ Anything.
No pressures, no worries, no tests, no failures, just the covers and the pillows and the un-ending WHITENESS of it, like a pure, cottony dream.
Like floating in the clouds, a kind of heaven.
Not having to worry about nothing... Nothing.
Its tempting and the only thing keeping me from doing it is I don’t want to look that way, I don’t want to be 500 pounds, as it is im over 300 again.
Just a few sandwiches away!
I’m yours Bed, I’m yours if this life gets any more difficult.
I have my limits; there’s only so much a man can take.
I’m a genius. It took a few hours and a lot of breaks but moving my fridge into my room next to my bed is pure gold. Maybe I can stay in bed forever. I deserve it after all that work. That’s the problem with more than 1 room – too much movin around. I should sublet this place and get an efficiency, a small one, everything in arms length. Now for the test; he collapses on his poor bed smellin like ass. It didn’t take long to fit into the deep grooves of the mattress. His was a bed where the springs didn’t spring. Aaaahhh, that’s the spot. I’m so comfortable. Me and this bed – it’s like peanut butter and jelly. Oh yea, what was I doing (the thought of peanut butter and jelly brought him back). Starting to rock side-to-side building into a roll he managed to come to his side and reached into the fridge. Just a beer for now – the perfect cherry on top of 2 scoops of hard labor movin this damn thing. Ah fuck it, there’s a meatloaf just right there. Rolling back in place a swig followed. Aaaaahhhhh…gold. If only I could crap in here.
After propping up a few more pillows under his bulbous head so the digestion would be easier he caught a glance at his stomach and man-boobs. Looks like a landscape. All hilly and rotund, curves. He pored some beer between his boobs and watched it travel down and around his stomach like a mountain stream…beautiful. He put the meatloaf on his stomach and thought what if my stomach were a hill. That’s a big meatloaf.
Exhaustion set in, beer in hand, meatloaf on stomach, he dozed off quietly then loudly with a snore that anyone who ever slept in a room with a fat guy would recognize. He was dreaming of the ocean, not the beach but further in the deep where it’s dark blue under water except near the top where the surface is reflecting the sun. It was quiet under the surface. The occasional distant sound of a whale probably a hundred miles away. He saw himself gliding through the water effortlessly. He moved with the grace and majestic ness of a porpoise. Along side him swam sea lions and he was happy about this.
A fart woke him up and he realized he was lying in his beer. Fuck, waste of a beer…gotta piss too…bed’s already wet…here goes…that’s a big meatloaf…this feels…not bad but different…no matter how many times I piss myself it always feels different…not done yet, man I really had to go…………………………………………….
this bed really holds a lot of water.
Time for some meatloaf.
With one bite half the meatloaf was gone and both cheeks were full slowly chewing to savor the mix of meatloaf and the bacteria on his tongue and walls of his mouth that only a good sleep can leave behind. Before swallowing he shoved the other half of the meatloaf in and smiled as he chewed. Man, that was good, gotta get more meatloaf later. I’m in the mood for a sandwich. Fuck, I left the bread in the kitchen; there goes that. Just as well, if I roll over to the fridge I’d spill all this piss. I could probably get in another sleep before this piss gives me a rash. I think I’ll order a pizza when I wake up…to celebrate.
Dozing off again he dreamt he was a giant meatloaf.
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