Let's create Suevio.

Let’s create Suevio.

He slouches 5 feet 5 inches with a cocked neck. His patchy hair (orange like Roark), yellowed teeth, and portly belly reek of merlot.

Suevio, unwelcomed, boards a yacht. He maunders (move or act in a dreamy or idle manner) into the kitchen and rummages for entertainment. No plans, none at all, you see, I talk about freedom.

Ah! The winners of Suevio’s drunken mission: A cork, a beater, and cake pans. He stacks them tall. Accomplishment feels sexy and raw, and Suevio knows it. He can do better.

Suevio searches for painting ingredients. Oh, sorry, now it’s Wednesday. This is somewhere else; the expensive boat seems 500 miles away. He mostly collects rotten stuff in gutters. Murky and brown and grey and shine, Suevio enjoys this orbit (a sphere of activity, interest, or application). It helps to imagine this as pudding. Suevio! Another accomplishment, another tick-mark on the belt! Very sexual and raw. I’m proud of you Suevio.

Suevio feels tired, too many projects and much belt without ticks. Let’s pretend of one while Suevio tosses and sleeps.

I hopscotch, but ran out of chalk. My pocket carries blue paint (a clean fix for my daily exercise). Platter Platter Pound Pound and Pound. Knock it off Suevio! Wake!

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