The Useless Woman
You see them in ads, artwork; embodiments of perfection. Stag magazines used to deal with real women. Now the porn they sell perverts has airbrushed flawless bodies adorning the pages. Why are these people so plastic? They hide impurity behind a mass of paint and products. Is it something that women are brought up into? Hand little Suzie a barbie doll so she can grow up and try to mimic life's cold flexible plasticity. That's right, Barbie never frowned, never a sad day in her dolly life. That's why so many women try to emulate this sad result of cultural conditioning. If they turn out like Barbie then they have to smile constantly, without a flinch in the facial muscles. Then you have the women that didn't turn out that way, the ones that aren't afraid to wear a scowl. What wasteful products some women have become. Disciplining themselves into this archetype. I treat them as I see them. Where's the reality, if there's none within your eyes? It's pure adulterous passion, but it's not sentimental. I throw away some partners cause I think they are dolls; material items with no effective use. Barbie can wait in the garbage for another man. Fucking these women feels as if I'm raping a plastic toy. They keep choking on their plastic smiles, while I thrust into the life-sized Mattel toy frames. How am I supposed to share feelings with a product? It's like jacking-off with a toy and taking it out on a date the next night. No more nights lost on toys or fake personalities. It takes its toll on the consumer.
So we are at that crossing point again. Whether I talk to you again. Where I can see your teeth radiating across the room in the cool flourescent light. Such a parade of lies behind your elastic lip band. I know that the nights are harsh, with Barbies trying to cope with the pain of beauty. Crying smears make-up, better suck up that pure natural emotion. It's not that you are ugly, dear; I just can't stand your personality. You're there, but you're not. I don't understand what you want in life. Perfection? I hope you end up on a shelf with the rest of your friends.
You see them in ads, artwork; embodiments of perfection. Stag magazines used to deal with real women. Now the porn they sell perverts has airbrushed flawless bodies adorning the pages. Why are these people so plastic? They hide impurity behind a mass of paint and products. Is it something that women are brought up into? Hand little Suzie a barbie doll so she can grow up and try to mimic life's cold flexible plasticity. That's right, Barbie never frowned, never a sad day in her dolly life. That's why so many women try to emulate this sad result of cultural conditioning. If they turn out like Barbie then they have to smile constantly, without a flinch in the facial muscles. Then you have the women that didn't turn out that way, the ones that aren't afraid to wear a scowl. What wasteful products some women have become. Disciplining themselves into this archetype. I treat them as I see them. Where's the reality, if there's none within your eyes? It's pure adulterous passion, but it's not sentimental. I throw away some partners cause I think they are dolls; material items with no effective use. Barbie can wait in the garbage for another man. Fucking these women feels as if I'm raping a plastic toy. They keep choking on their plastic smiles, while I thrust into the life-sized Mattel toy frames. How am I supposed to share feelings with a product? It's like jacking-off with a toy and taking it out on a date the next night. No more nights lost on toys or fake personalities. It takes its toll on the consumer.
So we are at that crossing point again. Whether I talk to you again. Where I can see your teeth radiating across the room in the cool flourescent light. Such a parade of lies behind your elastic lip band. I know that the nights are harsh, with Barbies trying to cope with the pain of beauty. Crying smears make-up, better suck up that pure natural emotion. It's not that you are ugly, dear; I just can't stand your personality. You're there, but you're not. I don't understand what you want in life. Perfection? I hope you end up on a shelf with the rest of your friends.
VIEW 3 of 3 COMMENTS
james:
I forgot to check where you were from. well when you go and see them they are some of my most dear friends, you just may love them as much as I do....I would have you tell them you know me but they wont know who the hell you are talking about if you tell them you know James! haha. Enjoy the show.
james:
good point on the fear thing, i agree, but for some reason i feel strongly about just being passive this election and letting thingsgo...