sleepwalkingbean

[sleepwalkingbean]

Give and Take

Sometimes I think about...

Sometimes I think about the stars at night

Sometimes I think about the moon

Sometimes I wonder how blackholes work

But there is ONE hole I know how to use

Sometimes I think about aubergines

How funny they are to me!

In my free time, I like to think about

Yummy peaches and cream!

Sometimes I ponder what it’s like to love

I imagine being kissed on my face

I crave the feeling of being hugged

I yearn for that soft embrace

Sometimes I think about going home to bed

Self-care is all I need!

Sometimes I daydream about snuggling up

Just my laptop, my Fleshlight, and me!

Requiem for a Fleshlight: Tales from the Bedside Drawer: Volume 3 Chapter 2

Haunted by yesterday's rains

Sick from the ever-lingering smell

The inky dark, my dearest friend, keeps me company

cold, lonely, sticky,

A crack of light creeps in and grows to veil me in shame

As I am taken out and pumped

As I feel the sweat and heat surround me

My mind travels, wanders, escapes

I imagine the soft embrace of a woman’s touch

The thought soothes my heart and haunts my brain

Yearning to be loved by a woman

While in the hands of a man

I am a Fleshlight

Treasure me. Pleasure me.

*September 2021

[sleepwalkingbean]

Customer POV

Pulling up to Starbies, yeah I know i got my drink therrrrrrre

Drive-Through Mobile took too long and I'm a time stick-lerrrrrr

Wondering how many times they pulled a new stickerrr

Gotta wonder if this drink is gonna make me sickerrrr.....

It's been like an hour since I ordered my damn latte,

8 baristas on the floor, they act like it's a par-tay

I'm just tryna pay my bill and get back on the highway

I ordered a venti, but that guy gave me a grande?

Now I gotta wonder, "Did they even make my drink right?"

If it was THAT girl on bar, I think I better think twice...

stressing at the window "don't add whip! because I might die!"

Promised me it's made with soy, I gotta trust they won't lie.

Sipping on my mocha, and I've got a presentation

Thinking I'll be fine cuz I had so much preparation

Trying not to blame my pain on Starbucks' abdication

But knocking at my back door, flatulence and defecation

Check your order more than once, they give you so much sass

Try my luck back there again? I think I'll have to pass

cuz

I just farted forty fucking times in fucking class

and

Now there's piping hot mocha dripping out my ass.

*May 23, 15:08

[sleepwalkingbean]

Barista Time!

I'm a Starbucks Barista and I make a lot of stuff!

I like to drink espresso, and I write on all the cups.

I'm customer connecting as the Partners come and go.

I punch in all the drinks: 3 blonde shots, no foam.

Seven, Seven, Two, half batch during peak.

Shake espresso 10 times - Was it 4 pumps? Was it 3?

Take a 15, take a 30, take your apron off.

Move to bar, move to drive, put your headset on

Scrolling through "My Daily" while I hear the steamers puff.

I'm a Starbucks Barista, and I make a lot of stuff!

*May 16, 10:45 a.m

[sleepwalkingbean]

Matcha Madness

Matcha Matcha here and there,

Matcha Matcha everywhere

In the lattes, frapps, and foams

Sometimes hot, sometimes cold

Matcha Matcha here and there,

Matcha Matcha everywhere

Matcha spilled on countertops

Matcha stuck inside my socks

Matcha contaminates the ice

Matcha in my lungs like ice

No matter how much I bathe

The Matcha stays, lingers, remains...

Matcha Matcha here and there,

Matcha Matcha everywhere

[sleepwalkingbean]

Mr. Mocha

Once upon a time, in a Starbucks far in the realms of Ontario of the kingdom of Ajax, Mr. Mocha must have made maybe more than a multi-million amount of mochas a day. Never malicious or with a single mean intention, Mr.Mocha mastered his craft. All from every corner of the Kingdom flocked to watch Mr.Mocha marry together magnificent melodies of mocha magnitude. However, one day, Mr.Mocha met his match! A Mr. White Mocha moseyed on in and melted Mr.Mocha's marvellous core, machiavellian madness, as the world forgets, and Mr.White Mocha steals all glory

[sleepwalkingbean]

Feelie and Florgus

The cave dwellers have begun their Eclipsication preparations as the nights grow darker, Full Moon on the horizon, mostly visible these days. This was to be a celebration of utmost importance, the band now complete meant the first moon in many moons would hear a complete song, a full chorus.

For Feelie, however, the pressure was on, and he couldn’t help but feel it. His arms ached and his ankles were sore, trudging along, watching the illuminated rocks and grass lining the halls he walked. He walked, and walked, turning left here, right there, left again, until finally, somehow, some sliver of his consciousness led him to the grand opening. He hadn’t returned since the day of his fated arrival, and a shiver trembled deep from within the core of the earth, into the cave, through the dirt, up his toes, and up his spine. The sun, though setting, was bright in his eyes, his skin adjusting pleasantly to the warmth of the outside air. It scared him, how much the memories haunted him, the past creeping its way through, bugs landing on his eyelashes and nipping at his veins.

Something deep within acted, pushing feelie out into the sun, not all at once, but in slow steps until the cloak of light had fully veiled him. fear turned nostalgia, as his walk turned back into a prance, a skip, then a dance. A song began to ring in Feelie’s ear, and the crunch of the grass and heaving of his breath no longer brought on the ache in his chest, but Rachel brought air to his lungs. He knew it may not last, that at any moment he might alert an angor or even wake a tramble. So he pranced and danced, hopped and skipped, and as he hit his last move, the grand finale to this song of heart, he found himself faced with a sparkling wildflower! A dazzling star! A harp with a song that never ends, flowers surrounding them both as they take a moment to take in each other. The one he faced gave out a harmonious giggle before placing a flower on Feelie’s head, giggling again as he adjusted his posture to accommodate the beautifully sacred, gifted bud.

Feelie began to feel zappy. The smile across from his own was enough to restart his heart. He was inspired to know no other smile, and never see it fall. Within the rigid position that aided him in balancing the bulb, he began a hop and a skip in his feet, goofily flailing limbs as much as the floral would allow. And that’s when he heard it, a symphony of happiness in the vessel of a laugh, the corners of their mouth upturned more than he thought possible, and with an arm outstretched, they said, “Florgus!”

And as Florgus spoke, their breath was fresh as florals in May, and when Florgus stretched out one hand to invite a handshake, every hair in Feelie’s large form stood straight up. He shakes the hand, a new warmth settling in, not unlike that of the glorious sun, but somehow, softer. A dim glow illuminating that which is illumination embodied “Feelie,” he replied, the flower falling finally from his head with a shake in his voice and a bead of sweat trailing down his temple.

Feelie had forgotten completely what had happened and what he was meant to do next. A blank expression taking the place of one once dreamy and inspired. Fear, once again, taking its toll, slowly creeping and spreading, only to be immediately fought by warm Florgus. Their hand grabbed for feelie’s, dragging him through the florals, and closer than before, and once Florgus spun feelie, landing in their arms, the dance began. His mind was blank, but now in a way that was pleasant. His smile as big as Florgus's, their rhythms in sync with their hearts in sync. Never before had Feelie danced so smoothly, so fearlessly, and little did he know, neither did Florgus. The sun's shine began dripping slowly down further to the horizon, melting into the water, but neither Feelie nor Florgus seemed to pay mind. They dared not end this dance, for what comes to a movie once its credits have rolled?

The band began to worry in the depths of the cave, the last, the FATED! Missing from its head, half a night until it is time, and Feelie is nowhere in sight?! They began a call, a cave boy's call, they stomped their feet and formed a call, a rumble low that travelled fast and shook the stalagmites it would pass. And Feelie knew the rumble well, and felt his throat begin to swell. The ground and it's shake alarming him, for how could he abandon the state he’s in?

So he held Florgus close as they continued to dance, and the full moon drew near and the rumble was rash, everybody calling out with their feet as they searched and they waited for the band to complete. Then a pull did they feel at quarter to 12, to go left and then right and then once again left, until the light of the moon in the dark of the night, lit up Feelie and Florgus dancing so bright. And soon as the moon was hid well in the sky, eclipsication full in the midst of the night, did every tree trunk and blade of grass light up so luminous, fluorescent, and grand. And then did the dwellers of our fated cave join Feelie The Dancer in his dance again.

Nobody slept and no one had rest, nobody wanted it, that was the test, and a dance did they dance till the fluorescents dimmed, and the moon shone again to say "goodnight, my friends." So on did they go back to the cave, back home, where they bathed in the brightness of the moon on the grove, to rest and to sleep through the sun, through the day, with not one more dance or one last thing to say

But as they slept, a dance continued off far. Feelie and Florgus remained under the stars; they continued their dance, still to their own beat. Never fast, never slow, never tiring their feet. The sun rising and setting one or two more times, Feelie and Florgus still staring into each other's eyes.

[sleepwalkingbean]

armageddon

[sleepwalkingbean]

"kill them with kindness" WRONG. chair attack 🪑🪑🪑🪑🪑🪑🪑🪑🪑🪑🪑🪑🪑🪑🪑🪑🪑🪑🪑🪑🪑🪑🪑🪑🪑🪑🪑🪑🪑🪑🪑🪑🪑🪑🪑🪑🪑🪑🪑🪑🪑🪑🪑🪑🪑🪑🪑🪑🪑🪑🪑🪑🪑🪑🪑🪑🪑🪑🪑🪑🪑🪑

[sleepwalkingbean]

i always underestimate just how many people on tumblr are blogging from work. very beautiful. very powerful.

[sleepwalkingbean]

Milk

Milk

My whole life I have been a lover of liquids in all colours and viscosity. As the sweet substance trickles down my gullet I let out a deep slow sigh of relief and joy. I remember as a youngin babe of only 2 moons whence mine birth giver laid me across her chest and allowed me to suckle upon the teet of life, suckling that golden lake of sweet nectar. I think of those joyous moments whence milk hath been the sole source of nutrition or feed I’d needed or wanted. I wished for it constantly, craving for that deep rich syrup. I dream of the moments when i hath been presented with the bosoms of life, big mommy milkers at eye level with me, areolas staring at me, plump and perky, full of milk. Never did the memory of mommy milky time escape my mind, it sat and stayed, and kept me itching to be soothed. I carried the memory of it with me wherever I went, always searching for that high. Pleading, weeping, wanting. I still drink milk every day, at least twice. I go to work, thermos in hand, cold, silky, smooth white udder juice. I chug from the flask like a sailor at dawn, swigging milk, feeling it run through me and stop at my core. See, i’ve developed an intolerance, my love brings me pain. A bittersweet love story of a girl and her choice drink. Need succy succy now mommy. Mommy’s milk

*September 2021

[sleepwalkingbean]

Gurgle gurgle

Gurgle gurgle, here it comes

Gurgle GURGLE, here it COMES!

Glob, gurgle, gab, glum,

What’s this feeling in my tum?!

Butterflies, flying everywhere

Hitting the walls, here and there

Back and forth and side to side

Until their bodies rot and die

Gurgle gurgle, here it comes

Gurgle GURGLE, here it COMES!

One by one they fall and sink,

You’re on the edge, you’re on the brink,

Slowwww motion through your bile,

Now you’re starting to feel vile.

Gurgle gurgle, here it comes

Gurgle GURGLE, here it COMES!

Icky sticky legs disintegrate,

Stupid antennas begin to dissipate,

And their wings begin to rot a bit,

And now you’re really feeling it.

Gurgle gurgle, here it comes,

Gurgle GURGLE, here it COMES!

One of them is not quite dead…

It tries to hang on, by just a thread

And it flaps one wing, and attempts to climb

Only to delay its time…

Gurgle gurgle, here it comes

Gurgle GURGLE, here it COMES!

You feel some crawling, up your throat

You feel another float, like a boat

You’re nauseous, now, you’ve had enough,

It’s gotten bad, you must throw up.

Gurgle gurgle, here it comes

Gurgle GURGLE, here it COMES!

Your body, mind, heart and soul

Regurgitates what once was whole,

You watch as pieces fly from you,

Bits of wings that you just chewed...

Gurgle gurgle, here it comes

Gurgle GURGLE, here it COMES!

A sigh of relief, but there’s still one left!

You think it’s over, but it’s not dead!

You feel it flutter once, flutter twice for a change!

And then you go throw up again.

Gurgle gurgle, here it comes

Gurgle GURGLE, here it COMES!

Now the gurgle will subside…

Now the gurgle will subside…

[sleepwalkingbean]

How did you get here?

You find yourself walking through a meadow, surrounded with soft grass and flowers of all kinds and colours; blue over here, yellow over there, pink in the distance. You notice you aren’t wearing shoes, and as your feet meet the ground you feel the grass, warm and plush between your toes, the sun leaving you glowing in a shine of toasted happiness. You begin to walk, noticing the image of a tree growing in formation. Its leaves leave you infatuated, enthralled, bushy green gorgeous bundles of leaves held by strong and sturdy branches, rooted in the very soil on which you prance. At peace, your mind, your soul, nothing plaguing your thoughts but the urge to reach into a bushel and soon enough your eyes watch as your arm reaches fourth, hand grabbing something round and firm hidden in the green. As you pluck the sphere from the branch, an apple reveals itself, and as quick as you plucked it, your mouth moves to take a sacred bite from the centre of the fruit. The flesh, bursting in your mouth as its juice flows down your throat, landing in the pit of your stomach. You feel a rumble, followed by a sharp shock of anxiety crawling its way up your spine. You take in your surroundings as the pain sets in and your pace quickens away from the tree. You vision goes blurry, sweat beads slowly following the creases of your now furrowed and distressed face. You scramble to find somewhere, anywhere to have relief, to release this load, but as your eyes scan over the empty field one last time, you feel a familiar drip down your leg. Not explosive, not abrasive, but almost as peaceful as the events that led here. A smell rises up into your nostrils, a single tear forming in a duct. You shit your pants. The panic settles and the pain subsides as you brace yourself in the grass, growing dizzy, stripping down to natures default, rubbing against the dewy earth in hopes of any relief from the burning sensation quickly spreading through your rectal muscles. How did you get here?

[sleepwalkingbean]

[sleepwalkingbean]

Has X Gone Too Far? Trump Says No! #EwonsWeekwyWetspot Trends, Poking Fun at Tesla Figurehead’s Speech Impediment and Urinary Incontinence

PALM BEACH, FL – The trending hashtag #EwonsWeekwyWetspot took X (formerly called Twitter) by storm this weekend, poking fun at Tesla and SpaceX CEO Elon Musk’s alleged speech impediment and persistent rumors of bladder control issues around the office.

The hashtag, which first originated from a leaked HR memo referring to a “Moisture incident” during a recent shareholder meeting, has spiraled into a cultural phenomenon, inspiring memes, reaction videos, parody songs, and even fanfiction. Despite widespread criticisms for what one is calling “ableist and tasteless behavior,” President Donald Trump used last week’s press conference to defend the trend.

“I predicted the hashtag. I’m the one who got the hashtag. People forget that,” Trump exclaimed to the roaring crowd. “I built the greatest hashtag in the history of the world. Everyone is talking about it. Everyone. It’s wet, it’s wild, it’s winning.”

He later appeared on Fox Business to double down:

“Look, Elon’s a nice guy, very smart, very damp. But if people want to have a little fun, that’s freedom, that’s America. Back in my day, we had nicknames for everyone, Crooked Hillary, Sleepy Joe. Moist Musk, maybe. Who knows? Maybe I coined that too.”

Tesla has not commented publicly on the trend, though the X logo has since changed to a W over the weekend. A late-night voice note posted from Musk’s burner account transcribed: “it's wealy wealy mean of him, I weally don't appweciate it. He will be sowwy!”

[sleepwalkingbean]

Pirates Rise Amidst Tariff War; Newfoundland and Maine Fishers Forge Illegal Trade Alliance Over Top Titanic Wreck.

ORONO, ME – In a stunning display of maritime rebellion, fishermen from both sides of the border have linked hooks to evade escalating trade tariffs, forming an unofficial alliance over the final resting place of the Titanic. What began as quiet mutiny has quickly turned the iconic wreckage into an unconventional black market hotspot, reviving pirate culture and ushering in what many are calling a new Golden Age of Piracy.

As global tensions rise over import taxes on seafood, bold seamen from Newfoundland and Maine began secretly meeting in the mid-Atlantic.

“I was just moseying about, doin’ my fishin’, when I see a great Canadian flag on the horizon,” said Captain Free Trade, a founding pirate of the Maine sector. “I thought, heck, maybe they’d like a cold one on a high tide. We got to talkin’ about the mainland and the who’s-its and what’s-ups, and figured—tariffs don’t have to stop us.”

Word of mouth quickly propelled the alliance forward.

The Titanic offered a strategic location: rich fishing territory, ample secrecy, and perfect camouflage—boats disguised as OceanGate submersible debris. From fresh-caught lobster to untraceable barrels of rum, spirits have never been higher. Some Greenlanders report hearing sea shanties drifting across the Atlantic.

“It serves as a comfort while dealing with the impending threats from President Trump,” commented Greenland’s Prime Minister Múte B. Egede. “The pirates will keep us safe.”

While government officials maintain plausible deniability, authorities remain confused. Canada’s Department of Fisheries and Oceans issued a formal warning, urging citizens to avoid “illicit seafaring enterprises, particularly those which may or may not involve historically significant wrecks.”

[sleepwalkingbean]

My Inner Monolgue; Thoughts from outside the closet: Navigating my life as a lady in her 20's - Volume 1, Sample draft 2.

Enjoy! Maybe you’ll like it

or dont, maybe you’ll hate it, maybe you’ll start to hate me because your perception of me has been warped by how i present myself in my work… or maybe you’ll like it

Short Stories

Craft, Results, Courage, Belonging, and Joy; Navigating Baristahood

The Westney Heights Times.

Struggling to find my muse

Censored

Penis Envy

How did you get here?

Gurgle gurgle

Milk

Give and Take

[sleepwalkingbean]

Penis Envy

What goes on in the head of a girl?

In the head of a girl!

In the mind of a Woman with a Strap in her Pants,

What’s going on?

So many things,

The possibilities…

Is she packing just for fun,

Just to be a little tease?

Does she plan to use it soon?

Perhaps tonight,

Or right now!

To plunge and to push and to pop and to please

To feel and to stroke

On anyone who please..

With a Man in a skirt 

Or a Woman on her back

On the crowd at a show

After spraying on a hack

That's too far…

Does she just wanna know what it’s like

What it's like?

What it's like on a train

When the car is all full 

and you're sitting in between

Two men and they’re spreading 

But you get to spread too!

But maybe it's not about the inches 

or the girth or the weight or the skin

But to know in a world

where the roles are reversed

where your dick swings heavy

loud and proud as you walk

that the world is bent over

sitting pretty on its elbows

while you're crushed between its knees

Jizzing deep

over and over