In a world of concrete dreams, he stands, A plastic man, in plastic lands. His smile frozen, his eyes unseeing, In a realm where nothing's truly feeling.His heart, a molded piece of art, Yet hollow, lacking a beating part. He walks among the synthetic crowd, In a silence, he's unbowed.But beneath the polymer facade, Lies a yearning, a whisper flawed. For in his plasticity, he seeks, A touch of warmth, a love that peaks.Though crafted from synthetic mold, His soul still seeks what can't be sold. A plastic man, in a world of steel, Longs for something true and real. P.T. you know what I mean
Da Back-door Bandit, a weak-willed man who shies away from responsibility. He lives a mundane life, avoiding debts and difficult situations. One day, the little man seeks charity at my house. Unable to handle himself, he urinates on my couch but fails to clean it up or take responsibility for his actions. Such behaviour is common in his grub mind. Over time, the stench and stain from the urine become unbearable yet still he continued to wallow in his own filth. I notice, my friends notice, but he ignores their comments, scorn and laughter, hoping the issue will disappear on its own. Eventually, the plastic og realizes that his avoidance of the problem only makes it worse. Instead of acknowledging his cowardice and the impact it has had on my upholstery the best solution his small brain could muster is to curl up in the dirt where we threw him crying out covered in piss. Determined to make amends, the protagonist decides to take responsibility for his actions. He apologizes to his friends and family, and he replaces the ruined couch with a new one, symbolizing his commitment to facing consequences and making things right.Conclusion: The story ends with the protagonist feeling a sense of relief and redemption as he embraces the importance of responsibility and accountability in his life. Just kidding, he crawled away and isn't going to be back 😨😁🤣
In a world of concrete dreams, he stands. A plastic man, in plastic lands. His smile frozen, his eyes unseeing, In a realm where nothing's truly feeling.His heart, a molded piece of art, Yet hollow, lacking a beating part. He walks among the synthetic crowd, In a silence, he's unbowed.But beneath the polymer facade, Lies a yearning, a whisper flawed. For in his plasticity, he seeks, A touch of warmth, a love that peaks.Though crafted from synthetic mold, His soul still seeks what can't be sold. A plastic man, in a world of steel, Longs for something true and real.
