I Remember When We Hosted Humans And Didn’t Kill Each Other Or Lie

It was a pretty jade day on the street of South Weber of Ogden when learning to ride a bike hosting a human. I pushed off that curb and held that wobbly front bike wheel pushing aside a few pebbles and gravel, and I pushed the peddles deep and hard. Just looking at the road between the rows of houses and pine trees. Dirt trails and not side walks and just peddling and peddling. Felt the sweat dripping, drying, all sticky. I remember making Dollar from that stick.

Now, only people want to do is host humans and shoot humans for Dollar. Shooting humans. Or lies. Lies rule.

Why can’t we just host humans and share the experience like sticky sweat.