II have always thought this through:
I were to fall in love, with an if….. Then that’d be with a beautiful older
woman. Healthy and strong. Proud and healthy. Just healthy in her endowed ways. Healthy, wealthy, healthy! You know the works, the goods…. Chest of magic mountains to roam, rest and pant over, arms of licking leftover apple-rhubarb pie, and calves of cool rushing water on my tongue. And goes without saying, child-bearing hips to waist ratio!
This is of course a dream, just a dream, just a dream!
Most women age as bad as men. It’s the human thing. They do bad things, cruel things. They say they make money by doing these things. Like burning whale blubber to light their homes. Clubbing seal pups because their fucking ancestors told them to. And trapping countless animals just to wear their skin! I could go on…. I could write their upside down Bible in reverse, red ink on black parchment, flipped in a mirror!
Point is, these asshole actions make humans weak. Weak, droopy, bent. What they do unto others, these fuckers also do unto themselves! It’s in their teachings, you see. In the end, their own anger grows at their own selves. And they become uglier! Their own “God” can’t save them. They grow old, sick, die horrible deaths, for which don’t you know they all must take pain pills! For it is the compassionate thing to do! For an entire life led
in cruel and meaningless stupid goals, the fuckers sure need to be pain free at the end…. You know what I mean!
So, thus, therefore, it follows…. I personally would be looking for an uncommon human specimen. Unlike the rest of these despicable fucking fucks, she would be an unusually kind, high, bitch! There are some yet like that: a unique genetic mutation makes them, above all, kind!
Now look, I’m quite experienced with the probabilities on this earth!
Usually ugly women are far kinder. They are more humble, giving, and caring. It’s all coded in nature! All genetic traits are an expression of the unknown. You must make up entirely for what you lack. So spiritual beauty is mostly dominant in those that are physically lesser. Men and women…. goats, you name it. In fact one of humanity’s most beautiful minds was famous for his ugliness! His name was Socrates…. Where am I going with all this?
It is this: the decks are stacked against me, my pursuit, my quest!
First, I’m looking inside dumb, cruel humanity for intelligence and kindness. Second, it would have to be in a woman, because that’s who I prefer. And that too a most beautiful one! Sorry, I admit, I am a dog! Indeed I would be looking for a bombshell beauty whose kindness keeps filling her with milk. Mmmmmm milk! I haven’t had milk for a while. Maybe three years, last time I had it? Though she was spoilt.
Fred’s girlfriend threw her jug at me. In the outhouse. She was mad at Freddie. Wanted revenge….
I lapped it up. Like a dog.
I am Wolf though: my name.
Freddie found me when I was young. Roaming for odd jobs and food.
He was not that cruel then. Or I guess he was thinking ahead. “Boy you want food?”
I low-gazed him, legs slipping back. He was the gruff sort, rusted eyes on a painted truck. I lowered my head. Smelled his beer. It was eleven in the morning. Two types of men start that early. One, who don’t have a job. My pops. Two, who do not want to work. My brother. Both lost early. And they kept on not wanting to win….
I wasn’t like my father or brother.
But I was hungry! And I had no one to call my own….
It was a mistake. I have ended up working for Fred ever since. Living in his outhouse shack. Doing odd jobs for him. Hunting strays. The feral cat, the possum, the rabbit and the coon. I grab them by the neck. Freddie thinks I kill them. I don’t. I take them out by the woods. They run. Look back. Surprised. May be to thank me….. Then disappear.
I don’t get much food in return. Watch Freddie’s place. Occasional spilled beer I get. Makes my head light, my eyes spin. But those nights I sleep better. On empty stomach.
There is no other cure for pain….. Just forgetfulness!