I'm only a good child at home. An immaculate child. But otherwise it's just masturbation masturbation masturbation masturbation masturbation masturbation masturbation masturbation masturbation masturbation masturbation masturbation.

My life is masturbation. Total masturbation. I revolve and accelerate, my hand in my pants the whole time. I'm a ballerina dancing through the world.

It repeats. Over and over. I rub my ♥♥♥♥. Repeating, over and over. An endless up and down exercise. Infinite ejaculation.
My home is saintly and my base is filthy.
I go back and forth time and time again. Around and around. Around and around. Around and around.

That's why those words came back. Back to me.

Those words came back... To remind me of the limit where I must return to the sky.
It means that ejaculation is close at hand. It means that the end of this up and down motion is fast approaching.
Time for some lotion! Let's try an onahole instead of my hand! Let's try something different!
Avoid using the same old rotation! Add something new to the rotation!

But the lotion dries up. Dries up.
Even if I try to use saliva to make it last longer, it doesn't help. It slowly disappears.
That symbolises my slowly disappearing day-to-day life. The disappearing pleasure. The increasing pain.

That's right. Ejaculation is near! The signal that the world must ejaculate! The spinning of the eternal masturbating ballerina will come to an end! It will end with ejaculation!


THEREFORE!