Society is constantly fetishizing children in one way or another.
You must take on the form of a child: have a small and flowery voice; speak when spoken to; hair on any portion of your being is taboo. God forbid a woman grows up from being a teenager to being an adult. She must have had surgery because that’s the only thing that could’ve made her look so bad, so adult, so not childlike. It’s gross. We as a society hate surgery, but she looks so adult, as an adult, perhaps she needs it?
If you change, it must be surgery. If you don't, maybe you need it. Either way, you’ve failed at becoming an optimum partner.
We’re horrified. We hate the normalization of plastic surgery, but man, is she humongous: so unfragile, so unappealing, may god prescribe her a diet. But man, her friend isn’t any better: way too skinny, no appeal, she’s not a woman, her hips couldn’t handle childbearing.
But anyways, man, I love women. We all love women, society loves women. They are the producers in society. We must love women, even the gross ones, always complaining.
I mean, they really all get gross after seventeen, so old and decrepit.
Unappealing, they all want their own thoughts, and I mean that’s fine, but just don’t talk about it all the time. I mean, babies don’t talk; they babble, so no need for you to speak your feeble mind.
Babies cry too, and when they cry, we feed them, but no need to feed you; you look full.
But man, do I love women; they’re so attractive.
Young and pretty like god made them
.
Society has made them so blissfully insecure.
Perhaps society doesn’t love women. Perhaps it only loves them when they fit into the five foot housewife-shaped box built for them.
It doesn’t love women. It loves the idea of them: pretty, quiet, and easy.
It loves to control women.
It loves them small and obedient.
It loves them when they are childlike or when they make children.
Society doesn’t love women, or little girls.
It loves the control it has over them.
It loves to call all of its sick fetishes “love.”
You must take on the form of a child: have a small and flowery voice; speak when spoken to; hair on any portion of your being is taboo. God forbid a woman grows up from being a teenager to being an adult. She must have had surgery because that’s the only thing that could’ve made her look so bad, so adult, so not childlike. It’s gross. We as a society hate surgery, but she looks so adult, as an adult, perhaps she needs it?
If you change, it must be surgery. If you don't, maybe you need it. Either way, you’ve failed at becoming an optimum partner.
We’re horrified. We hate the normalization of plastic surgery, but man, is she humongous: so unfragile, so unappealing, may god prescribe her a diet. But man, her friend isn’t any better: way too skinny, no appeal, she’s not a woman, her hips couldn’t handle childbearing.
But anyways, man, I love women. We all love women, society loves women. They are the producers in society. We must love women, even the gross ones, always complaining.
I mean, they really all get gross after seventeen, so old and decrepit.
Unappealing, they all want their own thoughts, and I mean that’s fine, but just don’t talk about it all the time. I mean, babies don’t talk; they babble, so no need for you to speak your feeble mind.
Babies cry too, and when they cry, we feed them, but no need to feed you; you look full.
But man, do I love women; they’re so attractive.
Young and pretty like god made them
.
Society has made them so blissfully insecure.
Perhaps society doesn’t love women. Perhaps it only loves them when they fit into the five foot housewife-shaped box built for them.
It doesn’t love women. It loves the idea of them: pretty, quiet, and easy.
It loves to control women.
It loves them small and obedient.
It loves them when they are childlike or when they make children.
Society doesn’t love women, or little girls.
It loves the control it has over them.
It loves to call all of its sick fetishes “love.”
