ROMA Volume I - COMPENDIUM - [The Spoils of A General] by Samuel Kebede - The Roman Memoir - HTML preview

Part A - The Gym

I should appreciate lust more. It is one one those subjects you never want to talk about because the globe revolves around desire. Subjectively, lust has been of use to me a handful of times. I still recall the prancing moments of my youth, where I walked across terrains that benefitted me concerning my love life. I thought working out was the answer to a woman’s heart, little did I know exercising ends in India. The best humans hope to achieve at and in the gym is a good shape, based on the physical mentality of the Tiger. The Tiger is the ruler of the gym, where shape is paramount. Shape is essential, and when you look upon the structure of members who exercise, you look upon their features, such as their arm, width and length, then you gaze upon their capacity to lift heavy weights, so you can sexualize them in your mind. When you figure out masculine features do not sedate you, you go towards the female subscribers, who come in with tight pants, the kind that make you want to worship the edges of the moon. You behold their rear hamstrings while they pick up the rod from the ground and wish it was yours, the one you bought at home to mop your tiny village grounds. You see her grip the cubby black 55

comforters of the bicep curl machine, and you want to have the little bee in your house, fascinated by her tricep arches, layed down hard on the mount. Shrewdly,, you take a peek at your own arms, with the misery of a scale, and compare it to the guy she brought with you, you articulate in your mind, while conceiving the thoughts to assault him because she has the gastrco’s of a small god. You gaze upon her fixed facial features and see the opposite of capital punishment, where you want to be the seat beneath her witnessing the harsh punishment she is inflicting upon herself, for the sake of a movement that mimics sitting back on your lap.

This is what gets the gym going. We have paying customers across the interstate because lust sells a lot of memberships. You want champion warriors in your gym, show them the good stuff. Show them a lady exists in the midst of your mind. If you are a male, take a dip on the right side of the tracks, and whisper the delightful tones you want to say to the woman you admire, in the gym mirrors. Say to yourself how much you want her to picture what it sounds like whilst looking at your bulging biceps, or try and figure out how you might use them to pick up a chick later, way beyond the Jordan, past the ellipticals, while her feet drags upon the rough edges of the steps, aspiring to lose her body fat like her last boyfriend. While she moves like a ship on the high shores, take a step in the right side of life, and try not to sniff too much, lest you catch a scent of her feminine 100 dollars shampoo’s and perfumes, designed to knock out a male, like a queer hunter with a nice .45 holster and a wick jab with a long range fun, right to temple of the fore runner, or a animal at the veterinarian, ready to be sedated, in complete intoxication.

You have heard of shiny objects and women, and now let me tell you about shiny muscles and men. Men use it all the time to attract mates of all kinds. From the church going little dasher, to the dormant volcano of a human being, ready to swing ashore on your life like an 56

avalanche, you have the tasty cop lady wanting to move to your side of bench press, to see how much you can put on the leatherback of seat, sure enough to gash the skin of a rhino. There lies the inner bear in you, ready for the lady champion to jump into your speed dial, hunger for some more of your protein at home, in the form of muscle milk, and chicken tenders, and as you lie there, wishing you knew her name, your huffing get in the way to impress her with your last rep.

She is on your mind, and so are you, but you just can’t seem to understand what will get the slim pickens off her pants and into your hands, so you can get another bicep curl in, whilst at the same time, given the opportunity to talk to her by gliding by since you didn’t finish your last set. “ Hi, I was just on that, yeah, do you mind if I..?”, and she responds, “Sure, how many sets do you have left?”. You respond in humming hast, frightfully wishing you can have your lips on hers, instantly, yet, with gusto you mutter “ Just kidding, you were the only thing I was on to, wanna be my last set? I get off in :45 mins.”. Then you anticipate, and hopefully wish she responds “ I would rather get off on you handsome” but since you are the alpha male in the room, you get the big ol “I have boyfriend”, so you shrug and limp away, in a broken window on a freight train, weaving about with gasps of air like a lump of clouds in the sky.

When you go up to the desk to check out, the drama of your catastrophic failure to pick up a swan has gone out the window, and has reached them in a timely manner. Your friend there assures you, there are tight buttocks across the city you can gaze on, she is not the only fish in the sea. Massively out done by her, with her appeal, no one will speak ill of them since she got stronger for it. She will likely be on the woman of the year magazine cover, along with the gym which can handle good and bad publicity. Lust sells, since it not only creates drama, but also the opportunity for a good life.

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Part B - The bedroom

Surely, my actions while frantically boasting about my beauty will be nullified whole, so I do what must be done, and do the unthinkable. I do proper things beyond imagining. To perfect who the woman is, I think of a wall like strategy along with lust. What I want most is a woman who won’t leave me, and what I think women want is a person that won’t leave them. So you do what needs to be done and do it by the book. You honor your father in your bed chamber by making sure the bed never leaves the house. Tactfully, you eradicate the word “experiment”. I did not leave the comfort of my mother and fathers house, so I can idly stand by and wander into nothing. I love my father, more than I love my mother. I think of him more when it comes to women or lust. When I get down on my knees to pray “our father”, I am not going to focus on asking forgiveness, like a good son, I am going to aspire to be the best I can be, void of sin, to the best of my ability, with the military capacity to keep the heavens in my bed room, lest I seek unneeded forgiveness from father, when at first I could put myself in superior offensive position, to not need it. The supreme art of war then lies in subduing sin, without causing it, where you never needed to ask for forgiveness. There you can use lust to your advantage. Lust can be your best friend, when the lady comes home, carrying the groceries over, she can drop them and sit next to you with the utmost faith, you didn’t just facilitate the house to become stronger through your zeal, you made her venture strong. Her cause is just in your home, because infidelity primarily lies in fixing issues with your father, not the woman. The best of the best of a woman lies in the holy trinity, her lips, her chest, and her vulva. You have the care of the world with God the father, the son, and the holy spirit at your side, with holy matrimony at your side. To me, that is the pick up of the day, where you greet her with warm kisses, and lie on her chest when you 58

get tired, then have a closed out concert at night before bed. Triangles are the strongest structures in architecture. When you mix and match your choices, nothing needs to go on the male body, in physical terms, than the Republic, the mouth and the structure. You are a holy country, she is the deity that needs to be there, even if the body, when cared for, can outlast the world while collapsing. There are clauses on how to operate the gift she is from father. You cannot surpass what is meant for what, nor move to the woman with the intention of breaking these laws. There are no oral, nor rear end plays that are allowed for both role players in the chamber. It is an eternal law where you cannot remove the stones your ancestors, your Roman fathers put there, so you can enjoy life with the woman you love. There lies the lust you want, on the shore of the beach that is your bed, looking inviting as the doors of heaven, because you kept the law of your father, and your art is welcoming you on sheets.

Much like your father, even if you do not love your mother, you have to honor her in your marriage. You shall keep the bathroom holy, from all integrated actions. Remove yourself and all sorts of love from the kitchen, and primarily, in your bedroom. The only place safe to practice your marriage is the bed, not even the floor, of the chairs in there. There is a General protecting the wealth of your father, and there is a field marshal protecting the love you bear for women, through your mother. The marshall watches out for unusual heaves you get from your structured walls and ground, to gain supreme standing, and punishes you for it later, when you abuse your wife. There is a general in play, where you try to amend the laws in favor of your own feelings, or for forsaking your ancestors, they will dwindle your money, and take you back to basics. There two are in constant work, taking actions against you for the certificate you receive to nurture and care for the life of another.

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Part C. Lust in Business

I see a champion here and there, that has taken it as such, which has gone in the far reaches of the earth, to the halls of Aids and Herpes, aspiring to conquer the pleasure world with his subject in hand. Once in a while, a help seeker peeks out on youtube, who has embodied the diseases, as if he was Christ the liberator of the world, and the cross on his back to signify he can handle it like a champion. It is the simple call of the neighbor lady to come over for tea, while your focus should be on our work. Lust lies there in temperament, seeking to devour like a hungry lion. Lust is the leader that leads great men to their disaster, downfall and demise, because they were seeking to be redeemed by the chamber of the woman, and in this case also men. Where there is simplicity involved in casual one-night-stands, and ready to mingle concepts, with refreshments available to appease the gods, lust in frigate form lurks in the wind.

The damsel in distress is waiting, to be handled with the care of pockets, much like the hour you value between your bed, and leaving for work.

Lust is neither the protagonist, nor the antagonist. As the money pacifies, your feet walk towards the murky chamber. There, money is no longer the object but the passive aggressive agent that puts a warrior on his back, when in due little, our masters taught us not to submit on our backs, while wrestling, when we were pre-teen years old. There are people like me, who would wish and hope she gets pregnant, because that would be the only money worth giving her.

Nothing is more wasted than rear foreplay since, hundred percent of the men who went for the grand fight, never make it home. Atleast, there is a shot in the dark for the forward man, but nope, a few hundred bucks wasted on a rainy game, that was postponed till the next weekend due 60

to acclimated weather. I could have the same fun. from the Selvester cat in Tweety, while eating the pie momma makes, without killing tweety. I like the cat, but not enough to cook it and eat it.

I like to get the cat, but not while it kills the bird. I am a fan of the cat, in my home where I use the money to buy the food, for the purpose of consumption, and not the cat being a commodity. I am not a huge fan of animal doctors. I am not going to go the extra mile, and gamble on health care, just so I can be a star on live camera, or be the faction that alertly, without extra coincidences, maintains a homeostasis, in the physical boundary of the creature. I suggest letting the cat handle its own ticks and fleas, and be a welcoming candidate for the house we live in, and not subject the lustful desire to financial schemes without considering humane options. Babies are the best for the financial tenderness of love. The best objects to buy are toys for the child, whose home, you desecrate, like the plagues of Egypt, for a little good feeling time. Money should be spent on tiny shoes, and foods that vigorously make you want to puke because they are nutritious., in this abstract, the best dodge, the really nice dodge is not the condom, but the marriage certificate, where there is no evil that could become without your knowledge, that keeps you in bed, like HIV, since the best you is also, the best you need along with your kitty at home.