Scatole: Hey D, it's almost Saint Valentine's Day, got another bee to write to?

D-ray: I'm NOT into that anymore. Beeatrice almost got me killed.

Scatole: Yeah, and she saved your life too. You should be grateful for that, or atleast call her sometimes.

D-ray: His father paid the hospital taxes, not her. She freaking punched me in the face, she stole my pet, and worst of all, she hugged me in front of Mortu! He still picks me on on that!

Scatole: Well, bee or not, I think you should find another love. You can't just date a brioche for the rest of your life.

D-ray: Why not? You know how I feel about love. Is just a meme, an animal instinct that is made poetic just because, as

sentient beings, we can't accept our real nature.

Scatole: No please... don't start again.

D-ray: Your fault comrade, as long as you are going to ask me the same question, I'll give you, the same answer.

Scatole: (sighs) Here we go again...

D-ray: Why should I date a real girl? I don't have time for that, I don't have any interest in that. All I need is my immagination. Immagination itself is my girlfriend, she let's me dream and love everything that this world can't give me.

Scatole: Who says it doesn't? Beeatrice was very nice looking. 

D-ray: How can you tell she was good looking? You don't even have eyes!

Scatole: I can still "hear" the shapes of the things surrounding me you know. 

D-ray: Hah! Body beauty! The only real reason we "love". As I said long time ago, attributes like "funny", "clever" or "interesting", can be applied to everyone, even friends of the same gender you know. But you can't really say, to a friend of the same gender, that is "cute" or "good looking" or even "sensual".

Scatole: Well, no, but...

D-ray: "But" nothing, Scatole. We all love in the carnal way, and whoever tries to be poetic about it, not showing himself infatuated, is lying. Lying to his real nature; lying to his loved one. He is refusing the animal that is within him.

Scatole: Oh come on! You are the first one who says that "truth" should not be the ultimate ideal of mankind. How can you live without lies? If you think about it, almost everything that we say can be a lie. 

D-ray: And you are right! Absolutely! So why not living this lie to it's best?

Scatole: (...)

D-ray: Why engaging with someone real, who can give you real problems, who will not satisfy you forever? We are all animals, we are all selfish beings. I can find another Beeatrice, but what tells me that she will not be even worst in tempter? Maybe even more childish? Also, who tells me that I couldn't be the same thing for her? Love until the end is fake.

Scatole: But you value loyalty, how could you broke a characteristic of yours?

D-ray: Scatole, I, AM, AN, ANIMAL. My body doesn't give two rat's butts about my ideals. It just wants to be satisfied. Hell, I can even stop eating, but my body will still die because I need it. And since love itself is a lie, why not just enjoy it to the end?

Scatole: D, you date a brioche; your girlfriend can rot! How's that not gross to you?

D-ray: Is not the brioche itself my love, Scatole. Is how I imagine her, how I shape this sweet food into what I love. I can imagine this chocolate fall like her beautiful shiny hairs. I can imagine the yeast as her body, her beautifully curved, soft and warm body. I can change the jam in her if I'm not satisfied, making her sweet or not...

Scatole: (laughs) You, are a madman!

D-ray: Yes, I'm the madman who prefers to live the world, and not live on it, shaping my own reality in the way I like it. Now, make me a cup of tea, I want to enjoy a nice hot tub with my love!

Scatole: Oooh, you forgot her name? That's not nice D! (jiggles)

D-ray: Mmmmh...  Confettura...  I love you sooo much! (kisses the brioche)

Scatole: Eeeh, goodbye to the last chance of procreation from you... but I guess that's not a bad thing afterall...