Memories of Childhood, Robotic Dreams and Flying Down The Highway

(This is copyrighted. Image and text both. Here is fresh off of creativity some raw rough draft from the Diablo Diaries. Prince Stephan and his PTSD, love life, confusion and robotics.)

Driving along the near empty autobahn in his leather cocoon cabin, hearing his 12 cylinders just behind him, that big engine simply separated from his head by a firewall and thin Italian leather seat, Stephan lost himself in his driving. He focused his mind on the blur of a road in front of him, and it’s rain streaks streaming by, as if he were flying an airplane in rain. The sound system roared with his favorite music, and right now, he was hearing Kathy’s Song. It was a centuries old song, but now, it seemed very timely. Why in the hell did the song kept bringing his mind to the whole robotics thing. Shit.

Prince Stephan was on his way for a hot date with sexy God damned Nadia. She hated his ancient relic Lamborghini, but he could not help himself. This car helped him in many ways, and not just in the wars for information, sly data downloads and jamming world government surveillance - and of course trans dimensional warfare. The car helped him in the obvious way too. It helped with the girls, and it wasn’t about the girls and their reaction to his automotive overt display of riches - It was about himself, and how he felt driving the car. When around the magic and amazing female gender, he needed to feel a bit of his power and great wealth to boost himself along. Fucking billions, mind you. And yet, he felt a bit damaged from what he had experienced years ago, although he kept that to himself. Shit! He liked women! They are special. They’re a fucking hoot, mind you! Complicated, maybe, but great.

And then there was his past experiences, the passion, the false trust, the violation, his own rape by a grown man, the dependence, the love, the fear, the confusion, the early childhood ritual abuse, his utter childhood submission, his world torn down … long before his world started.

Stephan shook off some of his racing thoughts, dropping off the throttle from such distracting rather real visuals. Shit. Pay attention to the road, will you! He pulled his Lamborghini to the shoulder of the highway, breathing hard, sweating and shaking. What the fuck! Why the memories? He cut the motor and just sat there, still hearing the music that triggered him. What the hell is going on in this world of ours? Why are we doing this to ourselves? Come lie next to me. Machine, behold … You and me are one ….