When women go beyond objects I get really sad and depressed.
I like their asses, eyes, feet, hips, lips, tits, pussies.
The way they move, the softness of their skin, their varying shades of hair.
But as soon as a woman talks I realize how trite and vapid she is.
And I can never view her as an object again.
I mean, it's impossible to appreciate glorious hips when they're attached to a larger being that tweets, votes, watches television, has shallow opinions, thinks Sonny Moore is a genius and Jim Gaffigan is 'amazing' and fits one of five female based stereotypes.
The moral is I try to keep my distance so the beauty can remain.
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