The most beautiful woman...
The most beautiful woman in the world. Perfect body. Perfect breasts. Perfect personality. Sultry sweet like a warm fire she draws you in and keeps you there. But she's not real. She's a 'toon. That soft body that wraps around you like a warm blanket is flatter than playing cards. An ephemeral mosaic on a smartphone screen. So here's a real girl, Autistic, Christian, Tradwife farm girl. Overwieght. Curves in the wrong places. In spite of the logic, In spite of the memes, I ain't feeling it, chief The cage of freedom, cage of choice, Would I ever choose a woman? Am I too cold, Too self-absorbed, Too "me, me, me" to take on something Needy, Weak, and bland? Is it trad to give a shit? Is it trad to care beyond a functioning pussy and a face that doesn't inspire instant vomit? Is "trad" good? Does "trad" make "us" stronger? If I had the perfect woman right in front of me, Would I be made a liar? Would I give her the time of day? Would I coast by on autopilot none the wiser none the more motivated none the more fulfilled. Oh, my sweet autistess, a perfect wife as you are, I cannot love you. I cannot love. I'm always on the move. I get bored. I get around. Crushing loneliness is just an average day. The most I can give you is a nice night every once in a while, a romp in the hay to remind you that you're still pretty to someone. Or in other words, less than you need.