It becomes overwhelming at a certain point. It becomes unbearable. In 1972 this was mine, by law, when I was 16 years old. All I had to do was work at a diner for one summer. And she’d love me. She’d love me forever. And orgasm from penetration. Because she didn’t have a 60k rpm solfeggio sequence vibrator for her clitoris (fake organ never proved). Because she trusted me. And now today it’s not even a hypothetical. This woman might as well be in a parallel universe. Im invisible to her. I was denied her uterus at birth. It was made illegal for me to pursue her and illegal for her to sex me. Obama left his fingerprints on her womb and my vas deferans. Her ant-sized woman “brain” was soaked, like a sponge, in 19 (she better not be a day older) years of talmudic-muslim-faggotcommunist propaganda to the point where she would only feel permitted to have sex with a mulatto 39 year old crypto rugger who socially signals as a communist bottom but also he has a fifteen million dollar net worth (my tax dollars gifted to him by John Thune (who is not a human being and therefore no action taken toward him is illegal or immoral)) it’s just insane I’m going to go insane. Anyways no I’m not using the app today I’ll just take 2 Big Macs and a 20 piece. Why do you even ask. No meal. I don’t want the soda I don’t know when you’ve last cleaned the soda stream. It could be oxidized. Calcified. The Haitian drive through headphone operator cashier Sumerian sacrifice candidate (third gen; cannot read or write, cannot extrapolate the passage of time) looks at me in total confusion. “Is you paying cash or card?” I leave the drive thru empty handed and speed back to my parents house. Maybe when I’m thirty they’ll let me date my hot cousin