Analysis of THE CALVARY OF MODERN WOMEN IN THE 21ST CENTURY

My sincere congratulations to the ultra-modern, ultra-hot, squeaky-voiced, brain-botoxed Diva ladies of today! The modern age of the modern woman is no longer about the enhancement of her mature knowledge - it's more about the instant and total depletion of her nice gold coins and pretty little bank accounts. The irises of their sneaky, digging eyes are made up, painted, even though the haunting midnight paints the more sinister night in simpler colours.

They smear their collagenized lips with poisonous red lipstick, like those vengeful petty little harpies, or dangerous famme fatale, in whose souls alone human frailty shines. Why not look instead at the softer make-up and simpler but more elegant dress? Your peacock-necks are all glitter, with forty-eight-carat diamond necklaces; and you don't want to know it, but they are all fake trinkets, petty jewels. The true, eternal One-treasure would dwell in your hearts, in your human gestures, if you would go to a crying child and comfort the orphaned infant.

Your accentuated cleavage, your artificially composed fake breasts, your movements scream fake, devalued boorish, fake, fake creation! You must not eat good food, for you are yourselves prisoners, if you look into the eyes of your yawning, truth-telling, crooked mirrors and there you see your truer grotesque reflections. You've been on body-control diets, juice fasts and a thousand other diets, and you exercise ten times a day, because your EGO automatically, compulsorily demands it, so that when you step out on the street you can look immaculate, where there's no room for an extra kilo or two, or a post-partum belly. Your souls are also fake gold from the joyful, happy, playful giggles of children, because you have forgotten your own childhood.

Like emotional sociopathic droids, you have become merely machine-wrecks set on automatic, who no longer want to think, because you don't need to. You no longer feel the joy of playing with Lego, of playing with toys for the joy of playing, of playing with joy. And what a fantastic feeling it is when one kneels down and admits in a simple poem that one would have liked to have a relationship, a sincere human alliance, where everyone can be himself without material interests!