_A SHRINE TO BONBI_
I made a monument to Bonbibonkers, a repository of the evidence of the incremental progress of my tenure here in /bbg/. I expect others to find it someday, to spend years deciphering its code. It also relates in a more mundane fashion to the sexual fantasies that pass through me at random, haphazard confluences of images generated from Bonbi's TikToks and streams, which I use functionally, like a primer, to set off a chain of chemical reactions inside the jelly-blob of my body. The result is a masterpiece, a wall which consists of hundreds of small glass vials, corked, and each containing an amber jeweled dose of my sperm. Each vial is labeled neatly with a coded typewritten description of the inspiration, and hence the necessary interpretation of its contents, i.e, "Encounter Bonbi on the G train and grope her... I fumble beneath her synthetic skirt, detecting fish," or, "Cut out heart of Melanie Martinez Bonbi on livestream and use the ventricles like a Tenga in my fist," or, "Cosplaying sex-goddess Bonbibonkers in skin-tight bathing suit puts out cigarette on my forehead while I kneel weeping, naked, my raspberry bedsores like a hundred red eyes on my stretchmarked white babyflesh as the council of Discord users mock me from their semicircle of gaming chairs..." This wall is an archive, a monument, a sacred treasure, potentially capable of answering any question one puts to it, like the I Ching or the libraries of Babylon. It's growing, a living crystal relief sculpture, a physical cryptography of an infinitely lewding mind. As it grows, it covers the surface of the wall like a glass fungus, reflecting the chaos of lights from my monitor like distant torches congregated at the dark edge of the earth. Conversely, it sometimes seems to stand out mute and resolute, an austere minimal slab, an implacable testament to the impenetrable phenomenology of time. Milk from my fat body, squeezed from my tiny white worm, all for Bonbi...