its aite not to write

It’s a curse to write things that mean…….atleast something…or even nothing that looks like something. Like maybe in this case. Now, if I dont write something the curse is over.  

task1) breaking the clockwork

enroute khalifas, i could feel my intestines burning like hot geyser rods, trying to catch up with honey's soldier march. Honey my two year roommate was a walkin torpedo, he could lead a wolf pack never looking back if the weaker one's were falling out, never when he knew khalifa was waiting on the other side.