BigJimsWornOutTires
Kraken
- Joined
- Feb 6, 2021
- Posts
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Intimate love is the casting of two. It's a connection that includes intimacy. It's identical to having a best friend, but you share your private areas. Yes, penis inside vagina. Most guys haven't a clue two girls that are besties are comfortable shaving their, um, butter cracks in one another's company. They'll take showers together. They'll even lean on one another no matter having clothes. But they don't share their bodies. They should, right? They're doing everything else. So why not lick each other's butter cracks?
They love one another but hunger for a man. That need to be worshiped and aches quelled.
And when one meets that man. He replaces her bestie. And if he hasn't, she doesn't love him. Yes, women can lie. They usually justify that with, "Oh my gad, I was confused. Leave me alone."
Love is powerful, and it's selfish and envious. It's greedy. It conquers. Although a lover can love others without intimacy. But that's more of a protection-love like a parent guards their child, and that child protects the parent.
Intimacy love is a selfish one. And if the woman you're butter cupping is grinding other penises or she still has a best friend, you're delusional and seeing what will never be. So remember, intimate love is selfish and a champion. And it should be.
If the girl defies that selfish intimate love, she'll be alone. And other women that haven't found that man will depend on her to fill that void that will never fulfill.
Young women today are taken advantage of by selfish women that decide their course—controlling and manipulative. They failed to find that one man, an intimate bestie, to stock their empty slot. So they seek the vulnerable—the new to this world. And the survival instinct takes control, so the broken and incomplete women convince the young squirter they're lovers and for one another. But the youngling feels that empty space that leads to rebellion. Tats, piercings, drugs, hair dye, undesirable clothing, whatever it takes for those besties to approve.
But one day, the best friend finally connects with a man. And that young woman that sacrificed everything is tossed to the streets for homeless junkies to ravage and STD-infected thugs to hoe out to perverts.
So the lesson is intimate love is greedy and jealous. Bestie love is a temporary waiting room for Romeo. And feminists are frauds that manipulate younger women for their selfish necessities. Unlike the besties being forbearing, the angry feminists consume another's life so she'll never be alone.
Woman was designed for man. Man is only for woman. All that faggot shit is to confuse the younglings and anger the creator—hurt him—embarrass him before all of creation. But our flesh is Earth. It's not our eternal substance. It's your armored suit to survive the atmosphere of this planet. And when you die, the universe will suck you up like a milkshake. Your earth-body is also a magnet. When that magnetism ceases, See ya, nigga! And off you go into the blackness.
But where you go depends on the finished product you call personal identity. Unfortunately, some folks have many identities, so we're bound to the Earth like a mole on a vagina. "I'm just hanging around, don't mind me," the mole says to the man licking her clit while staring at him.
Man will never travel the universe in vehicles—a child's make-believe invention. However, a salesperson will pitch a different opinion. He's working in sales. Making the client a believer is his bread and butter. But the only way of traveling the universe is by energy—that soul of yours. And it's faster than light. It's so magnificent; we have no instrument to detect it. And if you think about it, how could you possibly create a soul detector? Ugh, what fantasies come.
Where do you go after being sucked dry? Look at the universe with your eyes. The stars tell no lies.
They love one another but hunger for a man. That need to be worshiped and aches quelled.
And when one meets that man. He replaces her bestie. And if he hasn't, she doesn't love him. Yes, women can lie. They usually justify that with, "Oh my gad, I was confused. Leave me alone."
Love is powerful, and it's selfish and envious. It's greedy. It conquers. Although a lover can love others without intimacy. But that's more of a protection-love like a parent guards their child, and that child protects the parent.
Intimacy love is a selfish one. And if the woman you're butter cupping is grinding other penises or she still has a best friend, you're delusional and seeing what will never be. So remember, intimate love is selfish and a champion. And it should be.
If the girl defies that selfish intimate love, she'll be alone. And other women that haven't found that man will depend on her to fill that void that will never fulfill.
Young women today are taken advantage of by selfish women that decide their course—controlling and manipulative. They failed to find that one man, an intimate bestie, to stock their empty slot. So they seek the vulnerable—the new to this world. And the survival instinct takes control, so the broken and incomplete women convince the young squirter they're lovers and for one another. But the youngling feels that empty space that leads to rebellion. Tats, piercings, drugs, hair dye, undesirable clothing, whatever it takes for those besties to approve.
But one day, the best friend finally connects with a man. And that young woman that sacrificed everything is tossed to the streets for homeless junkies to ravage and STD-infected thugs to hoe out to perverts.
So the lesson is intimate love is greedy and jealous. Bestie love is a temporary waiting room for Romeo. And feminists are frauds that manipulate younger women for their selfish necessities. Unlike the besties being forbearing, the angry feminists consume another's life so she'll never be alone.
Woman was designed for man. Man is only for woman. All that faggot shit is to confuse the younglings and anger the creator—hurt him—embarrass him before all of creation. But our flesh is Earth. It's not our eternal substance. It's your armored suit to survive the atmosphere of this planet. And when you die, the universe will suck you up like a milkshake. Your earth-body is also a magnet. When that magnetism ceases, See ya, nigga! And off you go into the blackness.
But where you go depends on the finished product you call personal identity. Unfortunately, some folks have many identities, so we're bound to the Earth like a mole on a vagina. "I'm just hanging around, don't mind me," the mole says to the man licking her clit while staring at him.
Man will never travel the universe in vehicles—a child's make-believe invention. However, a salesperson will pitch a different opinion. He's working in sales. Making the client a believer is his bread and butter. But the only way of traveling the universe is by energy—that soul of yours. And it's faster than light. It's so magnificent; we have no instrument to detect it. And if you think about it, how could you possibly create a soul detector? Ugh, what fantasies come.
Where do you go after being sucked dry? Look at the universe with your eyes. The stars tell no lies.
