HEY HEY HEY the thing is 2. DEFIANCE, he defies his own motivation. Boom. Connected. Anyways,

Toss the Turtle, various writing documents, and a Neo-air forums page is sprawled throughout the taskbar of his computer. Despite the absence of the Sun, heat fulfilled its definition heavily throughout the upstairs bedroom, filling the space with murky, gaseous waves of radiated light invisible to the naked eye. The saving grace was a rare artificial breeze generated from the home’s internal air conditioning system and the shaky ceiling fan, spinning valiantly against the onslaught of warm sources. The heat generated by the computer’s multiple tasks and applications didn’t help the general room-climate either. Feelings were mutual among the cells and micro-organisms that made up his fiber of being, Saturn was in a shitty mood. Like usual,he fiddled with his dick and screwed around all week, completely avoiding his self-motivated task of writing an entry for a forum contest. Now the deadline is two hours away and he has not written a single word. Feelings and emotions flowed through him, which ones are completely up to one’s own imagination. Saturn dislikes sharing his feelings. What he will share are his goals and motives for his life. He likes ‘surfing the epic interwebs’ and finding badass underground type shit. His life goals are finishing a severely belated story while pulling off tight-rope somersaults over a three-mile deep pit full of flamethrowers and deadly mechanized reptiles while doing 900-degree kickflips on an airline turbine powered skateboard made out of meteorite space metal. Obviously, he is completely prepared for adult life. As Saturn prepares to shit his pants and whine like a toddler in defeat, he comes to a revelation. He will write a short [how many] word story about the sheer depravity and qualms of his own life in a cleverly disguised fantastical epic full of action and fighting, death, and beautiful writing patterns. Truly, a foolproof idea that in no way shape nor form will bite back at him in the tender, sore part of his lower extremities. Saturn has achieved the calling to adventure in his Hero’s Journey. Now, he needs his mentor. He slams back to the homepage of Neo-aire and enters the community tab, scrolling and reading each section religiously for 15 minutes before realizing that isn’t how you message your friends. He goes to his friends list and starts pestering his group chat of close friends. 

spiralicRadial: Then I was able to look at their

private messages and it was fucking foul, so

yeah, I think she was cheating on me this whole

time. I just don’t know what to do now, It’s like

there’s nothing left for me except breaking it

off and saying fuck you. Maybe I’m just

pissed off or something?

saplessBIOS: Computers still don't know when you put

certain things in, timing wise. Y'know, like you can't just put a

drum loop into a computer and hit the sync, and it'll

sync perfectly to whatever beats per it has. And that is still

something you have to do with your ear and listen to the click

of the computer and the drum loop 'cause it dots out the

whole song so things like that I mean, it’s still kinda surprising

we haven't figured out a function for the computer to do that.

spiralicRadial: Now WHAT the hechk does that have to do with what we were talking about!

aeriformBars: GUYS guys GUYS shut the fuck up and listen. I got inspiration.

spiralicRadial: Fucking finally dude. But aren’t

you a little too late for that. I thought the story

contest was over already. 

aeriformBars: No way dude I still have an hour and a half left, now I need you guys to mentor the shit out of me so I can get this done on time and create an orgasmic writing experience that blows the ears, eyes, and brain out of anyone that decides to read it. Total ancient tome providing Pharoh’s curses and leaving them all amazed and soaked in their own metaphoric brain juices. 

saplessBIOS: Oh yeah. We can do that. Make you such a

great writer that Van Gogh and Leo Divinci turn in their

graves with all their scrolls and inks, thinking, “Oh shit, oh

fuck, we can’t write at all cuz aeriformBars beat the phonetic

shit out of us.” Spiral and I can TOTALLY lead you to that

fucking river bro. Cuz we are definately acclaimed

writers and not coders for web games.

spiralicRadial: Holy shit there was so much wrong

with that sentence dude. Those were artists and

inventors, not fucking poets you doofus. 

aeriformBars: I know but, C’mon, you guys gotta be able to help me somehow.

saplessBIOS: Alright look, meet me for real so we can talk.

Cuz I gotta go and do awesome shit instead of sitting on my

ass like a lazy root crop. All this sitting is making me sedimentary

n’ shit, I got stone growing on my cheeks and lower thighs and I have a life. 

spiralicRadial: No you don’t dude, you gotta

run errands for your mom because you have a

driver’s liscense now. I bet that was the first

time you even got your fat ass up today, I

saw your hours in Dork Souls jump to

never-before-seen data records. That shit

didn’t just add up, it multiplied dude. Total

no-life numbers

saplessBIOS: I’d come up to you with a fresh gourmet plate

of whup-ass, but I’m busy so all you get is canned. I’ll

see you in a few minutes. Stay radiant ponyboy. 

aeriformBars: Fine, I’ll meet you. I wouldn’t normally waste my precious time going to great lengths of running 500 miles and 500 more n’ shit but I need some genuine help with this. 

saplessBIOS: Luv u 2 bby ;)

Tense and stress and high blood pressure fueling him, Saturn turns off his computer and leaves his apartment. His timing is impeccable and he sees his friend Logan leaving to run errands for his mother. “Dude time is of the essence for me, I relly have to figure out how I’m gonna write all of this in the time span I have.” “Okay well, shouldn’t you just like hunker down and work on it, obviously you won’t be spewing gold from your fingertips, but you’ll actually get somewhere and turn in something right?” Saturn replies, “No man, I have to get this right. I wanted this to be something great, not mediocre. I wanted to make a high-league story that actually gets noticed. I haven’t done anything good yet, but this is it man. I know it is. I just need a little bit of experience.” They walk down the mediocrely lit hall and head click the button yellow worn out for the elevator. When the door opened, Saturn locked into accidental eye contact with Monse, the girl directly 1 floor above his own. He remembered the times he heard the parties and gatherings she would host, the cursing and irritation it would cause his parents to experience because of the noise volume. She was the first one to break the contact, looking at a different part of the elevator. It was an awkward ride down, we were all going to the bottom floor and the elevator was slow, but a minute in the claustrophobic chamber dimension feels like an eternity, especially with her in it. The door dinged, and we split paths. Logan restarts the conversation. “The hell was that dude? You’re crushing on her aren’t you” “No, I’m just- I- Look, I gotta finish this thing man is there anything you were actually gonna tell me to help?” “I don’t know dude, check out the library or something, you might find some books that tell you how to write or whatever.” “We have a library?” “Yeah just go down there to the left. I swear dude, you know less about this place than my grandma, she died four years ago and has never even seen this place before.”

Saturn parted with Logan and went down the mundane hallway he’d never actually been through before. Just like he said, there was a sign for the community library right there. The doors pulled open into a separate doorway, most likely to prevent outside sound from disrupting the quiet demeanor a library upholds. This architectural detail was completely rendered stupid and obsolete as the final door opening into the library space was dry and caused a loud squeak to occur. He found a section specifically for self help and found a sub category that was specifically for creative thought. Saturn perused through the repository of books and skimmed various pages out of many of them. He wanted motivation, he wanted personal meaning. He wanted goals and to make his own path, his own road map. He searched for a long time.