Yeah anyway, I was thinking about how something so objectively unpleasant can actually put me in a good mood. I mean, don't get me wrong, after a week I'm more than over it but the first day I am filled with non-knocked up good cheer. Actually, it's kind of how I imagine being pregnant would be, if you were actually into being pregnant. That glow or whatever.
Maybe I'm just ridiculously neurotic but I honestly sometimes feel my body is out to get me. Being pregnant would destroy my life and yet, if left to its own devices, every month my body gets all kinds of weird ideas about building up endometrial layers and shit. Like I want to welcome the riff raff or something!
Fuck that, I say. Better living through chemistry, I say. And I am filled with the inner peace that comes from beating your body into submission with the help of the pharmaceuticals industry.
And really, I guess it makes sense in a way. To a pregnant woman who wants to be pregnant, her fetus is the future she looks forward to. To me, a period signifies my body has, for another month, safely incubated my own anticipated future.
Self-Fellating Fetus, what say you?
No comments:
Post a Comment