How Sisyphus Invented Tit-Fucking

I’m used to repetition, every day in and day out; in and out, up and down;
work without end and without hope. It so used to suck to be me. Fate’s
left hand was “endless boredom”, the right hand was “crushing of the will”
cause if the left hand don’t get’cha, then the right hand will. I know you
have heard it before, but I’m the man it was written for. You say “Mythology”

when that is just History writ large and colorful and incomplete. Oh, it’s true
I owe my suffering to Zeus, but not for “hubris in the face of Deity”... exactly.
Olympus is a tall mountain, but mountains can be climbed. And Hera
is a tall woman... and see? I’ve said too much. But even roads that lead
to Hell lead away as well. After eons, Zeus (thinking himself suddenly clever)

said, “You may choose the circumstances of your suffering, but it’s nature
remains the same. You will push something big up something large forever.
Have a nice day.” Ok, fine. Now Hera rubs olive oil on her perfect breasts
every night. I am pointing with no hesitation, honest and erect in the direction
sunset traces over her shuddering heart. I hope Zeus counts my every little death.