Feminist Farm

The Shaming Game

we’ve gone from celebrating the non-consensual, sexual filming of women in Revenge of the Nerds, to condemning the non-consensual, sexual filming of women via the Erin Andrews case.

we’ve gone from idolizing Sean Connery slapping women’s asses and forcing women to fuck him in a plethora of James Bond movies to condemning Bill Cosby and Harvey Weinstein for reflecting the irresponsible sexual philosophy of our parent’s generation.

we’ve gone from cheering on our heroes in their quest to fuck teenage pussy in Fast Times At Ridgemont High, to condemning the fucking of teenage pussy by the anti-male #MeToo movement.

and while all this is going on, female accountability flies completely under the radar. how do we know this? even the leader of the #MeToo movement was discovered to be a pedophile. the feminist lightning rod of self-righteous indignation, Asia Argento, got caught by the New York Times making payments to her underage victim. then in the ultimate hypocritical move she tried to “blame her victim”–a tactic utterly condemned by her own feminist Slut Walk brigade.

but her reaction isn’t an anomaly. dodging accountability is par for the course as far as females are concerned. it only reveals the truth about women raised under the anti-male shaming philosophy of feminism: to them, accountability is like cooties–they want nothing to do with it. and why should they have to hold themselves accountable for any of their behavior when males are already the predesignated scapegoat for human sexuality.

once again, our feminist society is self-righteously outraged by its own genetically produced reflection expressing the flexible sexual ethics of its very authors.

women know we want them. but they want to control the terms of access. they not only want to determine how much we’re allowed to have, but how much we have to pay to get it. so much for equality. fair doesn’t even begin to define sexual relationships today. it’s self-sacrifice (read: money) first. “maybe!”—a distant second.

and the irony is ALL guys are painted as the Charles Manson ringleaders of the sexual crimes that are perpetrated against women—by a society RUN BY WOMEN! … think about that—women are afraid of a society that they control.. but that’s exactly why it’s so terrible.

…i know what you’re thinking: “but MEN are in charge of everything…. right?” it can’t be the fault of women because men dominate the  boardrooms. we make all the big decisions, we bring in all money. we run the government. so we must make all the rules….

but do we really? if men run the show, then why are we so afraid to criticize women? we already know you can make a fat, dumpy, balding, stupid, lazy male the centerpiece of any TV sitcom without anyone saying a peep…. but could we do that with a woman? could we make that same character a female? sure. if you don’t mind getting protested at your place of employment. or losing your job. or getting into fights with strangers. or getting death threats in the mail. or getting sued by Feminist groups. or risking your reputation in the community where you need to earn money to live.

but don’t men still make up the majority of the CEOs in America? how can they be victims of women if they have all the power and rake in all the money? let’s examine that claim. even today, women earn more than their male peers according to research from leading Feminist Hanna Rosin. couple that to the fact that women have emasculated their male children to the point where they’ve been shamed, both at home and by society,  into handing over control of all their finances to their wives and girlfriends. in other words, women get to determine how the money is spent. for both genders. now you begin to understand who owns whom.

before 1974, women couldn’t even legally open a credit card by themselves. legislators deemed women too irresponsible with money to be trusted. fast forward to today. it’s completely upside down. women are now granted the authority to spend the fruit of male sacrifices—sometimes literally;  according to the “over 90% of workplace fatalities are male” statistic, women aren’t just spending paper. they are spending MALE BLOOD. YOUR BLOOD.

normally, the amount of time, effort, education, frustration, injury, and sanity you expend at work should be proportional to the quality of life you’re rewarded with at home. but because women are now in charge of directing how your sacrifices get spent, your quality of life takes a nosedive.

whoever spends it, owns it; if women are spending you, then i’ve got bad news for you: they own you. back in the 1800s, we used to refer to this as ‘slavery.’ today, we’ve rebranded it as ‘equality.

ever watch the TV show Survivor? a bunch of people are placed on an island with only the bare essentials, to find out who’s the most resourceful. eventually Feminism gave them the idea that women are just as capable as men when it comes to the ultimate test of survival: raising a civilization from NOTHING! this would truly test the limits of both gender’s capacities… so how did the women do? those of us with common sense already suspected the truth.

the same thing happened in 3 different countries. they battled the sexes to see who would come out on top. but was the answer ever in doubt? the men always succeeded. every time.

but what’s even more revealing; the women would’ve died without help; they got lost, they couldn’t find a source of water, they couldn’t hunt for food, they fought each other, they worried about suntanning instead of building shelters, and they cried tears of self-pity instead of accepting their circumstances and working to improve them. yes, the society designed by women, for women, CAUSES DEATH!

is it any wonder that women are afraid of their own creations? is it any wonder that Single Mothers raise children who end up terrorizing society? is it any wonder that women are scared to walk through the streets at night that they control? is it any wonder that women complain about the governance of males that they were responsible for nurturing? …sure some will point to Barack Obama as the exception to the rule. he was the product of a Single Mother and became President of the United States. how bad could Single Mothers be if one of their creations rose all the way to the top of society?

how about bad enough to start a Civil War. how about bad enough to mislead and cause men of this generation to commit suicide and shoot up schools. and do both in record numbers. how about bad enough to raise a killer like Stephen Paddock—a man responsible for the single deadliest mass shooting in U.S. history. how about bad enough that as i type this, a woman was stabbed today by an Obama-loving follower who hated the fact that she supported Ben Shapiro’s right to speak. yes, you read that correctly. today—under the guidance of the Single Mother Generation—somebody thought it was a good idea to stab another human being–all because they were offended by WORDS.

this is why Single Mothers have been deadlier to America than suicide and obesity combined. very few in our society even realize they’re a problem. who would suspect that a gender so necessary to our happiness could be so dangerous to our lives. couple that to the fact that Mothers condition their children to not only look the other way, but to blame themselves instead. i know i did.

if i was lazy, it was my fault. if i didn’t know how to get a job—my fault. if couldn’t balance my checkbook—my fault. if i didn’t know what i wanted to become when i grew up—my fault. if i didn’t care about people—my fault. if i didn’t know how to meet girls—again, my fault. it was all my fault. according to my Mother and the many males currently suffering under the guidance of Single Mothers, the blame always belongs to men. we’re bigger and stronger. just like we’re automatically expected to lift every heavy box of copy paper for women at work, we’re also expected to shoulder their blame at home. because we’re bigger and stronger…

…and yet, somehow, we’re supposed to ignore how often women depend on us to bear their responsibilities, and pretend that women are our equals.

that’s why many guys are sensitive to criticism of their mothers. from birth they’ve been conditioned to believe that women can do no wrong, that women have always pulled their own weight, that women are always victims of oppressive men. that’s why “NEVER hit a WOMAN!” is still a childhood mantra. there’s absolutely no thought of female accountability behind it. no thought of what she’s done to deserve it. only the knee-jerk outrage that somebody would dare to hurt such a fragile, innocent gender—again, the same gender that’s supposedly equal to men. how can there ever be a reason to strike a man if we’re equal to women? and how can we be equal if we’re always making excuses to raise the standard of morality when we deal with women but lower it when dealing with men? why do we hold men accountable for their behavior but apply a blanket of moral protection against anyone who dares to hold women accountable to theirs?

if a man attacks you, punch him back. “do unto others….” treat him like he treats you. simple justice.

but when it comes to women, we give them Affirmative Action Justice; if a woman attacks you, let it go. absorb the punishment. you deserve it. always treat her better than yourself. disregard The Golden Rule. disregard your concept of fairness. disregard the principle of equality. you must never strike her gender because she has default immunity from all blame due to her size. size now determines right and wrong. if she’s smaller, she’s always in the right. if you’re bigger, you’re always in the wrong. even if she is attacking you. because female life must be protected at all costs. even when it presents a danger to your life.

and by ‘at all costs,‘ they really mean male sacrificemen are always expected to pay the price. they are expected to get the check after a date. they are expected to do all the physically demanding tasks. they are expected to do all the tedious, low-paying, shitty jobs that women refuse. they are expected to perform all the dangerous services that society relies on to function. that’s why men die in record numbers performing their obligations. over 90% of workplace fatalities are males. but that’s exactly what’s expected from a generation conditioned from birth to believe that their lives matter less than women’s lives.

Disney infects vulnerable kids with this same message every time they make another movie about a female heroine outwitting, out-performing, and flat out humiliating yet another male character.

Jay Z may rap about having 99 problems but a bitch ain’t one! yet he’s the same bitch getting slapped around in an elevator by a woman, reminding all the other the noble cucks that they’re supposed to sit there and “take it like a man.”

Joseph Biden lectures us about women deserving special legal protections under the law because of their innate moral superiority.

colleges wag their fingers at us to impress us with how ethically sensitive women’s feelings are to words. as a result, males are expected to police their own views to make sure their ideas fall within their assigned politically correct boundaries so they don’t offend women.

Seth Rogen and a slew of contemporary comics trick us into believing that the quirky, deferential, emasculated male always gets the girl in the end.

even Donald Trump, the leader of the free world, pretends that it’s perfectly normal for women to be in charge of men. whether he’s touting their leadership acumen regarding his own business empire or expanding this dangerous narrative to include running the country, Trump demonstrates that even the most powerful man in the world isn’t immune to the emasculating effects of the Single Mother culture he was raised under. even the most powerful man in the world is frightened of telling women the truth. every time he proverbially pats a woman on the back for a job well done, he’s really letting men around the world know that women run his country, not him.

everywhere we turn—whether it’s friends, the mainstream media, movies, TV, commercials, talk shows, podcasts, Twitter, Facebook, or Google—we’re admonished to submit to female governance from a female-centric society that claims men are oppressing women. no questions asked. the same society that creates, raises, vilifies, and then condemns men as monsters is the same Single Mother factory that designs and manufactures their nightmares. the thought of female accountability never even enters the picture.

the non-stop whining for the new toy called ‘equality’ is never coupled to the price of responsibility, nor does Feminism require women to serve those under their care. as long as equal numbers of women are granted leadership positions, that’s all that matters because women governance—the authority to control the lives of others—as a human right rather than a heavy burden. they think leadership is matter of taking turns like playing a game of tag. they have absolutely no fucking concept of what it takes to shape a leader because in their legally-protected academic bubble, “manager” is no different than artist or blogger. if they don’t have to be accountable serving a soy mocha frappuccino at Starbucks, then why would they have to be accountable serving an entire company, or even a nation? what’s the difference if their teflon-coated accountability shield can successfully prevent all accusations of blame from ever sticking to their gender? this is why you’ll never see women fighting to enter Selective Military Service, even though it’s already mandatory for all males. it’s also why you’ll never hear Feminists talk about all the men who sacrificed their own lives to protect their families because as that self-serving cunt Hillary Clinton reminds us: “women have always been the primary victims of war.”

all those piles of sawed off limbs from the Civil War don’t count. men facing certain death, charging Nazi machine gun nests in World War II doesn’t fucking matter. as Hillary Clinton demonstrates, feelings always come before facts in the female world, which is why the Wage Gap for women really represents an Entitlement Gap for men; women only complain about the privileges they lack, not the responsibilities they’ve neglected. men are still expected to bear the default blame for both genders because the tradition of holding leaders responsible was the one aspect of the mythical beast known as ‘The Patriarchy’ that even Feminists were too scared to incorporate into their female-centric The Sky Is Falling! philosophy.

this is why it’s easy for women to constantly wail about “sexual assault on campus!!!” and “sex trafficking!!!” and condemn pornography for exploiting women while ignoring their own culpability in pushing rape fantasy novels like 50 Shades of Grey to the top of the Bestseller List. not to mention the fact that soliciting male attention with tight, revealing clothing is a national pastime for women. but because nobody is willing to criticize their hypocrisy in public or hold them accountable at home, women have no incentive to change their behavior. as far they’re concerned, if a mother wants to teach her to daughter how to market her appearance on popular shows like Keeping Up With The Kardashians, she’s just leaning in. by hanging her tits out like a Mexican chandelier, according to feminist theory, she’s just asserting her female prowess in the face of male oppression—“you go girl!”

this is exactly how dystopian shows like Toddlers & Tiaras are able to fly under everyone’s radar. the insane lengths that Single Mothers will go to exploit their own children doesn’t seem abnormal to a culture that’s been molded (read: emasculated) to successfully insulate women from reality.

who is the General in charge of leading all the troops in this systematic assault against women? did the egg of male libido cum first? or did the chicken sprinkling glitter across her ass cheeks ignite the angry boners pointing in her direction? are men just closet Neanderthals cursed by their own violent sexual urges sex, or do provocatively dressed skanks have any hand in orchestrating the sexual tension that defines most men’s lives today? traveling through the Sequoia forest of moral finger-wagging, one would be hard pressed to find any woman who understood concept of accountability. yes, they love to preach about its absence in men, but you’d have better luck finding a female plumber or female construction worker than a woman who actually practices it herself.

do men force women to wear yoga pants and booty shorts, or have women always been interested in finding better ways to solicit male attention. are men out spending billions of dollars trying to keep the makeup industry afloat because they prefer women who look like over-spackled versions of RuPaul, or does every business owner on the planet already know that female vanity pays a thousand times better than female responsibility. after all, the only way you could successfully market a product designed to deceive the public is if you simultaneously force society to close its eyes to the truth of its purchase. and that’s exactly why men dive heart first, eyes closed, into the single worst business investment in history—marriage. this is where the sexual revolution comes full circle. once again, you’re forced to come, hat in hand, with a dowry of your best financial assets in exchange for privilege of renting one of Uncle Sam’s finest hos. if you read the fine print, you may realize that you just signed up for a legal menagerie of sexual extortion tactics funded by the State, designed to play poker with your future earnings if you ever decide to leave the sexual deprivation desert you’ve gotten yourself lost in. that’s not to say that some marriages don’t work out, but the fact that the ink on the contract is guaranteed with male blood says a lot about which gender it’s designed to benefit. especially when things don’t work out. if you thought sex trafficking was bad, wait until you witness grown men breaking down as their ex-wives legally deprived them of their children and incomes. these men’s lives are devastated so women can improve theirs. but that’s to be expected when you’re facing the biggest emotional gamble life has to offer, with a mere coin flip’s chance of success according to divorce statistics. at least your wife has a guaranteed golden parachute in case the engines of her flippant wedding vows give out. yours, on the other hand, is sewn from high school puppy love and Disney movie plots. good luck.

this is the type of lopsided legal environment required to produce the ‘Single Mother’ Plague infecting the world today. and that designation isn’t exclusive to the ex-wives club. it also applies to any relationship where the female is in charge of the male, where her word is law.

Single Mothers aren’t just some fringe group of women missing a husband or boyfriend. their defiance of men represents the very core of what females now worship—“STRENGTH & INDEPENDENCE!”—typified by movies like Brave and Wonder Woman, championed by pundits like Oprah and Lena Dunham, and personified by celebrities like Beyonce and Hillary Clinton. these women attempt to mimic the stoic, defiant exterior exhibited by men while secretly harboring the ungrateful attitude of children spoiled by privilege, who dream of only one thing: to be free of all obligations, to avoid any shackles of accountability, to exist without cause, to enjoy without merit, to whistle without work.

but Single Mothers, like children, fail to grasp that work is what’s required to make whistling a soothing sound. you can’t produce relief without its main ingredient —self-sacrifice. exhaustion is the first step of rest. it’s the surrendering of life that causes its appreciation just like the effort you expend to meet the needs of those in your relationships determines the care they give back.

if women really wanted to solve the symptoms of their poor relationships, they’d have to take accountability for their own behavior first.

e.g., to solve the problem of rape, you can’t just punish the rapist. you have to find out what created the conditions for the offense to manifest itself. you have to find out who’s responsible for the rapist’s attitude towards women. killing him won’t prevent another rapist from taking his place. just like the old saying goes: in order to kill a snake, you have to cut off the head. the crime itself only represents the symptom—the behavior of the snake’s body. it doesn’t identify the root cause—the source of all the snake’s activity—the head’s planning.

but fortunately we’ve combed through the prisons, interviewed the residents, and identified the source—SINGLE MOTHERS. they are the one group who’ve successfully dodged public scrutiny. and not coincidentally, they are also the primary group responsible for raising rapists, thieves, and murderers. their hypocritical guidance shaped the views and attitudes these criminals harbor towards women. they weren’t born defective. their mothers started training them right out of the womb to steal the sacrifices of others because they were never taught how to sacrifice themselves.

they steal pussy through rape because they don’t know how to merit affection.

they steal money through robbery because they don’t know how to earn a living.

they steal life through murder because they don’t know what warrants respect.

and they steal from their own futures through suicide because they don’t respect themselves enough to see past tomorrow.

they live in the same squalor of accountability poverty just like their future criminal selves do behind bars because of those who have neglected their own duty to their children.

…so how should we deal with them? according to our current approach, we should either incarcerate or execute these criminals. but again, this only kills the ‘body’ of the snake—the symptoms of the problem—and leaves the ‘head’—the poisonous source—free to reproduce the exact same problem all over again.

however, if we were to incarcerate or execute the Single Mother who produced the rapist, the thief, and the murderer, these types of crimes would vanish in a heartbeat. either Single Mothers would no longer be incentivized to neglect their children’s need for a Father, or they would stop attempting to raise children by themselves altogether. felon production would drop-off overnight.

Charles Manson never killed anyone himself but was judged responsible for the grisly murders committed by his ‘children’ because even the public recognizes the Principle of Cause & Effect. so if we can already determine that leaders are both morally and legally responsible for their followers, then we need to start holding Single Mothers responsible for their own offspring—the innocent children they socially deform, resulting in the expensive criminal burden we all have to bear. otherwise we’re stuck chronically devising new ways to avoid dealing with depressed, violent young men who will only make society more dangerous with each passing year.

this is the grim fate that men have to look forward to today… and so we’ve stopped looking in that direction completely and started looking backwards to the 80s where Rape Culture Hysteria was foreign concept. where movies and Cartoon Networks and Super Nintendo video game consoles were the biggest concerns on our plates. and we’ve tried to transplant those comfortingly, care-free icons into our present day culture. by starting Comicon conventions and adult videogame expos, grown men have discovered new ways to indulge their deformed imaginations wearing carefully crafted monuments to their childhoods. they get to trade in their miserable social lives for fantasy relationships with inconsequential problems and guilt-free solutions. it represents men’s attempt to escape from a world designed by women for women. with men as an afterthought. how can men be anything but baggage to women when even our academic institutions now claim that the the male chromosome is an “evolutionary accident.”

as a last resort, men have started looking laterally to each other for support. except that there is none. males were never taught how to socialize amongst themselves. sports and video games are the 2 major commonalities men use to bond. but as with all things, necessity takes a backseat to comfort because we were trained by our Mothers to prioritize our subjective feelings over the objective facts, our whims over our requirements. sex is a forced underground solo occupation with countless rules and contradicting guidelines. good luck finding answers there. even the term “bro” has been ruthlessly mocked and ridiculed to the point where men themselves look upon male-oriented groups with either knee-jerk contempt or vague discomfort. we don’t want to be accused of belonging to the He-Man Woman Haters Club.

….all i have to look forward to is you—another male afraid to speak… and that’s why i want to die.

what is a point of escaping captivity if freedom means loneliness? what’s the point of waking up if i’m the only one who stops dreaming? appreciation, just like rejection, requires both a giver and a recipient. satisfaction, equilibrium, harmony all require a symbiotic relationship—2 people must agree, otherwise both remain unsatisfied and restless, in a perpetual state of conflict.

…so then why do countless people today preach: “YOU are responsible for your own happiness”…? because they’re like most armchair psychologists who’ve read an article about an ice cream truck that fell on Billy’s leg, giving him superhuman insights into karmic gratitude and human suffering. fuck Billy and his chakra-flavored positive affirmation sophistry. this is one of the greatest lies perpetuated on our generation. in other words: you can fix yourself! you are the answer to your problems. this is why the self-help section in bookstores looks like a fat chick building a gigantic gingerbread monument to her good intentions..

sounds nice. unfortunately, complete bullshit. if i could make myself happy, why would i ever need people? why would loneliness even be an issue? philosophers acknowledge it, poets scorn it, people die from it, and most guys would chop off their favorite masturbating arm to be free of it. if loneliness isn’t a real affliction, then neither is love a genuine requirement. it would fall into the category of sentimental suggestion… but who the fuck is still dumb enough to pretend that love isn’t the most relevant axiom of their existence? anyone who has spent time on their bed staring up at the ceiling, listening to hours of Beatles songs, knows otherwise. anyone who has a family member or even a favorite cat knows better.

it’s impossible to ignore the debilitating effects of isolation. but more importantly, what can be done about it? many people have claimed to have found happiness, but few can prove their good intentions aren’t just a diarrhea-filled bag of bullshit rebranded as the newest secret to the universe!

when i was younger, it was much easier to pretend that being preoccupied by basketball or whatever sport i picked up, would emancipate me from the thirst for pussy or from the regular gloom of staring at a computer monitor for hours each day. it was much easier to fall prey to the carnival of distractions meant for eyes untainted by the knowledge of unrequited love (fuck that bitch) or questions of purpose (hi God, fuck you too). but playing Grand Theft Auto can no longer hide the truth of loneliness from me. and watching Mad Max filmed in HD still can’t quench my longing for real visceral affection. every breathtaking trail i’ve explored in Zion National Park, every exotic fruit-filled crepe i’ve eaten, every hour i’ve spent transforming my backyard into a tropical paradise of waterfalls and tiki torches is yet another reminder of all the things i have yet to share with someone meaningful to my life…

i still remember a time not too long ago when i got my dick sucked. she even paid for my dinner and had a blunt rolled and ready to smoke when i got to her place. it’s what i’ve settled for. casual hookups. no strings attached. but i don’t want to share my life with her. even an hour of it. so why am i? what’s the cocksucking point?

i’ve fucked enough girls to know that disappearing into vagina sleeve doesn’t solve the problem of loneliness. a few minutes distraction from the debilitating desire for companionship isn’t enough. i’m sure for guys who don’t know how to get pussy, sex is still an exciting novelty. but it’s been in my face for so many years that there’s not a lot of incentive to pretend i’m content with just the thought of getting it. just like i realize the few tokes from tonight’s bong won’t erase the fact that today and tomorrow are starting to lose have lost their distinction in my brain. sometimes i have to think about what day it is. and the sad part is: it doesn’t matter if i mistake Sunday for Monday—who’s gonna know? what’s the difference between living in a temporary, drug-induced stupor and the permanent stupor of death if time is no longer a concern of mine? what’s the point of working to maintain life if loneliness is my weekly paycheck?

finding aliens? fuck aliens, fuck Mars, and fuck Elon Musk with a solar-powered Tesla dildo. we haven’t even finished exploring the oceans because they’re too deep for our technology to penetrate, so our solution is to travel a billion miles away, burning a trillion dollars worth of human sacrifice in the process, for the possibility of another cosmic maybe?… if sexual frustration feels like a slap in the face, then a trillion dollars worth of existential blue balls is gonna feel like a dry ass-raping by comparison.

and new experiences? what the fuck do i care about visiting the Great Barrier Reef or climbing Mt. Everest or backpacking through Germany’s Black Forest if the horizon refuses to answer the thoughts i throw at it from a gaze seared by the hard lesson of novelty. as King Solomon once opined: “What has been will be again, what has been done will be done again; there is nothing new under the sun.” i may as well be staring at a travel brochure for the River Styx….

so instead of harvesting the fruit of time well spent, i’m stuck here with youa slave who refuses to speak!… and even when you open your mouth, i can hardly pay you any attention. your apologetic attitude, suspicious eyes, and monotonous voice indicate the suppression of desire. how can a human coffee table motivate the living? your discomfort with your own beliefs carries with it the sickly grey stench of suppressed anxiety—a festering wound of formal education producing formalized confusion, resulting in a bent spine growing around the shape of your self-erasing, self-doubting introspection.

indecision used to be an indicator of poor character training. now it’s been euphemistically rebranded as moral consideration by a hypersensitive culture focused on coddling our fragile self-esteem. just because you’ve bravely marked “gender fluid” on your driver’s license to appease the academic con artists peddling social dysfunction as tolerance doesn’t mean you’ve successfully warranted my attention or motivated my interest. suppressing your real beliefs to remove the possibility of offending Big Brother’s over-perked ears carries with it the unfortunate side effect of boring everyone to fucking death.

dead things—like anonymously driven words forming the structure of our new communication frontiers—no longer motivate me. this shroud of electronic characters battling digitally manufactured problems can no longer hide the embarrassing corpse of our recycled platitudes. the rampant artificial arrangement of life infecting our Hollywood narratives still constitutes a fraudulent death no matter how expensive the actor or how tasty the popcorn. the perfectly cooked wedding scallops from The Bachelor‘s happy endings taste no better than Survivor‘s piously seasoned insect hors d’oeuvres. even the historically proven sentiments of past adventurers have begun to suffocate our default mental activity.

outside of people, what else is there to desire? i’ve already had enough sex to last 10 people 4 lifetimes. even checked the “threesome” box off of my bucket list. i live in a decent part of town. i have enough money to pay my bills. i’m in good health. extremely intelligent…… so-fucking-what?

because you refuse to speak your mind, i have no fuel to burn my inhibitions. because you consider conversation to be a special event rather than a necessary function of human life, i have no desire to care about your tenuous health or your yearly vacation plans. in fact it’s much worse than complacency; the more you stagnate in fashionably stoic posturing, the more i set my alarm clock to the cleansing sounds of destruction. the more your thoughts fossilize around useless 4th of July traditions, the more i embrace the recklessness mantra of drug experimentation. the more self-righteous indignation you substitute for answers, the more reasons i count to sharpen the ethical edge of my sarcastic dismissals of your problems. the more you omit the truth of your lonely condition, the more i bury my own suffering in a mountain of elaborate lies. the more passive your approach to conversation, the more vengeful my reflex to scrutinize your existence. the longer you feed off the philosophies of women who wag their fingers, the more i hunger for the danger lurking in the men who eat blame for lunch.

The Economy of Cooperation