em... this anti m.g.t.o.w. argument? i can't exactly force someone to fall in love with me, i really can't do that, even the devil, mindful cannot promise this sort of temptation... sure as **** i can force-feed turkeys for thanksgiving, but to ensure i can find someone to love me? no... not really... i can give up drinking, and take to the economic bias of investing in another person, sure, i can turn to the selfless route of the everyday talk, and it would work out: just plain - nice. then again, i have my agendas that require but one man, one job, and a cranky / cranny worth of interest; old women never believe they're alone anyway, as old men never believe they're old, nearing death... suicide is such a fatigue of thought, that exhausts, end rarely ends with a fruition of the demanded act... mere thinking is hardly a first step in making the zenith leap into the abyss... nonetheless i still think the attempt is worth much more than the tactic of shaming the encouraged ones... for that sort of bravery, they deserve so much more than being shamed, they deserve applause, they really deserve applause, not some pathetic critique of: wish you lived on, and turned out the beggar on the pavement, with me and my ****** job, walking past you, spitting on you... these people deserve applause, rather than the classic regurgitation of being placed in dante's hell.

i don't like the acronym movement
known as m.g.t.o.w. for one reason,
and one reason alone...
as the black guys say:
more cushion for the pushing...
there's not fat for me,
there's only one less hour at the gym...
so? oops e daisy?
        not really,
back in the middle ages plump
women were both the vogue, and the sport...
i don't liken myself to, men who
fathom the skinniest of women...
i don't mind it,
        fat hips and *******,
i can't perfection in erratic behaviour...
i don't mind the "model" being overweight...
i have one ask:
- just be there for me...
- i only ask for the "da-sein"
   i don't care for flubby-bear...,
i don't care for this aghast wilderness,
i have only one command guiding me:
just be there, for me,
and if you can't, don't bother me!
      men were never "panicky"
or "picky" with prostitutes...
   i have no concern,
            just be there for me,
but give the past 10 years plus,
women have hardly been there for me
to scratch a depth of...
i had and will not have any concern
for your weight, even if it be bound
to gallons of molten gold...
       you have your vector,
as i have mine,
        we buy out of our depths,
the shrinking demand of
either debt, or oath...
     made all too soon,
                 i don't like the modern
m.g.t.o.w. acronym,
because i adore the "faking"
of prostitution,
    to see autumn after spring,
i have long lost the fetish for teenage
girls...
      it seems even though i adore
milk, i am lactose intolerant,
         i can't dream to abhor the
*****,
                  i find her,
the most welcoming,
              and the most golgotha riddled...
i shun the notion of
      the ***** being a template
for "discourse",
  for what is worth: abandoning...
a *fleur de livre,
meaning? just because the king
****** her, doesn't maker her a common
penny!
      flower of life!
speak to me in, onomatopoeia!
  i find it strange,
that feminism give no right to a woman
with the inherited agility of *******
with her body,
   it's sad, doubly saddening,
that man be disrupt from seeking
such talents,
as is bound by the ******* body,
and later learn, the erotica eloquence
of marquis de sade's ****** novella,
while the genteel west london girlies,
giggled on the train,
seeing a construction worker
reading one of his works...
typical english: *** is a joke -
***-construct of **** ****** expressions,
lost in the domain of cartoon disney,
like any english breather:
*** is a joke...
  *** is a joke...
      *** with the english, was always
a joke, the saxons knew it,
i can't believe they see the dodo project,
these anglophones, without seeing
the "joke"...
              i'd hardly giggly during
*******, but, apparently,
it's the standard for mongrel celts
giddin' it on!
   they said it! i'm vermin...
  keep laughing, keep joking...
when the vermin populace is rife
akin to your anglo-pakis,
i'll tell you,
   about my rattesexfarht...
if i didn't cite visiting a *******,
i'd have no quaking word to mind
"sanity", luckily i did,
and that she proved more industrious
in keeping "amends", than a psychiatrist
ever could...
        existentialism in english
is hardly existentialism in french,
or german,
you can "solve" it in an hour...
     the english abhor philosophy,
even though their champion the other
greek: democracy, but sure as ****
they hate philosophy...
rather than enjoying their food,
they're force-feeding turkeys...
       the anti m.g.t.o.w. is force-feeding
turkeys...
   i don't like bulimic animals either....
the english simply invented shortcuts to
what ought to be listened to
and completed narratives...
not the case...
         they want the quick-snap & chase
version of events...
     i can't be bothered,
and neither can they...
   if they keep running at this pace,
the capacity for being imaginative will
exhaust itself, while guarding
the per se pro + neutral centre....
  and, as it is already shown,
many more people will pick up,
on the spreading of negativity...
unable to concern themselves with,
the "supposed" status quo (pro neutrality),
which, by now, is non-existent,
moving forward, with incremental bias.