used to have a lot of ice cubes, but i put some up my butt and now i don’t have anymore. do i regret it? not realy

edit: Haha sorry I can see how my original comment could be misinterpreted. You see, around 8 months I came across a large quantity of ice cubes while traveling in India. I had an inexplicable attraction to them; I would run my hands over the beautiful, clear surfaces, rub my cheek against the sleek cold and feel my worries dissipate. Over time I couldn’t be separated from them; all day long I would lay in my large amount of ice cubes. Only after a week did I realize that they never melted, no matter how hot it was outside. Eventually I stopped eating, wanting to spend every waking moment with my ice. I was kicked out of my apartment, and would lay on them in the street, occasionally being given food by pitying passerby. Only now do I realize that they couldn’t see the ice cubes at all. The smooth, chilly surface provided a light contrast to the harsh, burning ground in the under the hot indian sun.

Eventually my visa ran out, and I began to realize I needed to get back to the US as soon as possible. I was able to shake myself out of my stupor long enough to gather my few belongings and withdraw money from the bank to buy a plan ticket. However, as I was packing, I realized that my suitcase couldn’t fit all my ice cubes! I did not want to hurt the poor things by crushing them, and I was at a loss for what to do. Eventually one of them relayed to me the idea that I store a number of them inside my anus, and retrieve them once I had landed in America. So I did exactly that. The coolness inside my tush, it gave me the strength to finish the journey and make it back home.

When I got back, I put on some gloves and went to the bathroom to retrieve them. However, as I groped around, I realized I couldn’t feel them! It was as if they had dissipated completely. The unmeltable melted, the implications of the paradox too infinite to comprehend with my mind. Sadly, I went home with my luggage and kept the rest of the ice cubes in a special box in the basement. Strangely, I no longer felt the strange attraction to them I had felt before. I began to visit them less and less. “Why do you not come so often?” they would ask. “Our empress demands you, why don’t you join us? Do you not wish to complete the ritual?” These words emanated from their ghastly presence. I only shook my head and left. Eventually I locked the basement, not wanting to have my life taken over again. Last month, I had to move out of the house to live with my parents because of my mother’s ailing health. Only now did I remember the ice cubes. I wonder, does the current resident find the same fascination I once had with them?