Current mood: Punk
Tom sits alone and wonders aloud:
“Hey, my friends would like to hear from me, I can feel it. Jeez, it has been a long time since we last spoke. Quite possibly 3 days.”
So, he types on his computer, with as much vigour as he pours into masturbating but with, what he feels is, a better climax.
So, as sweat perfumes the air, he giggles stifled through clenched teeth, Tom finishes what could be his finest work. Oh, he wishes his mother could be alive to see this, her death ending the only relationship Tom has ever shared with another person. But her body holds pride of place just behind him, her empty eye sockets echoing the slight sounds of her sons whimpering.
“Hey Mom”, he says over his shoulder “I’ve finally made it.” And he posts his soul on the Internet for everybody to see and love. The thought of so many eyes scanning his words sends shivers down his naked spine. His prostate vibrates.
And this is what he wrote:
“Latest Update: 12:19PM PST, Monday, July 18th. don't worry myspace isn't going to change or shut down, and no one's profiles are going to get deleted. things are going good !”
Tom cuddles up close to his mother, his body stretched out on his king sized bed. Dust from her degrading bones clouds the air and Tom breathes it in fully, his face turning an ashen grey.
“We’ll never be apart mom. Never.”