Sunday 23 February 2014

Final PostSecret?

I think that this is the last one that I'm going to do. The reason: I'm actually getting kinda bored with it. You can only say the same thing over and over a limited number of times before even you start yawning at the banality and same-same of it all.

Like a greedy pig, you just...give up eventually. Eventually you realise that you're just not gonna fill that empty place. (Unless you kill yourself trying of course.)

Well, let's begin with the disordered souls:







Eating disorders. Food ad-nauseum. A twisted self-loathing within the soul that manifests itself as a disease of the mind. It is a pity that fatness isn't recognised as a disease of the mind also, a self-loathing that manifests in the physical world from the sick desire to die (from overeating).

Someone chastising his woman. Only partway there: once he's fully-there he'll realise that he should do the deciding. If she refuses to go along: dump her and find another.

First penis envy (feminists sour grapes) and now ball-envoy. We can implant some for you, you transsexual you.

Girl wanting to be a part of the herd. Too stupid to realise that true freedom is outside the herd, or being part of the harem of a man outside the herd.

Sad when a woman's mind and instincts are at war with each other. Take my advice: shit on feminism and become a full-on raving "traditional" woman. Your instincts (under control) won't give you as many regrets as following feminism will.

Ah well. These days I seem to be seeing the weak spots in women's souls. I should just strike those weak spots, instead of wasting my time swearing at them. Stick a knife in the soul and twist, in a plausibly-deniable manner.

After all, that's what women do.

----------------

An observation earlier today about a bulimic girl who has baby rabies - at age 32: No amount of children are gonna fill the hole where your soul should be, girl

No comments:

Post a Comment