“All of politics is born around a hardened structure, with no stains made from tears, no compassion involved without the stead of deception. Involve softness, and its truth is the reveal behind what any politician attempts to conceal.”
– Modern Romanticism
It is the unfortunate nature of this world, that a woman is the essence of what can be manipulated, over what is needed to be manipulated, down to the last child whose mind must be changed from innocence to derangement. Her form, the clay. Her mind, the secondary virginity. The way the world sculpts a woman to see the world, is how all shall view the same “image”.
Lust is the very nature of convenience. Therefore, for everything unneeded to be, a woman is used for the painstaking task of destroying the reputation of certain targets.
Tell it of a man who has an ongoing scandal. Then, why not bring on the slew of women to simply lay the final nail upon his casket, burying him alive under the media’s heated breath of toxicity? If that is convenient for the opposing politician, then why not? If a woman, to your ordinary politician or the political world, deems it within some personal regard to unearth a certain “softness” to make his opposition soaked by it, then he’ll do so. He’ll do so, simply to show the world that truth is somewhere, though just not upon the surface. Love a woman, and then she is nothing like this. Use a woman, and then she can by anywhere she deceives herself to have the freedom to place herself.
Though, should a woman be hated for any of this? No. Her influencers should, instead, be loathed down to everyone’s last fiber of their being.
A woman, beautiful, though made hideous by each filthy hand that wants to twist her image, to then absorb it into their own power structure. Though, one cannot fault the man by how much of an idiot he is. For he is a child, outside of a woman’s embrace, as he is also a fool within it. A fool, a man is, with or without a woman. A fool for a woman, or a fool for without one, as this is his nature.
In this unchangeable world, of our own, to the constant changes about it, it is through a woman’s endless fog of alteration that power finds its necessary to churn every aspect of the world, through herself. To mold the world, power must mold a woman over it. To change a woman’s mind on what is powerful, the world must be altered by previous generations of women. Power does not “employ” a woman for her skills, though for her image in being able to cause constant changes.
And, again, hatred to the woman is unneeded, of course. However, hatred to her slave-drivers, is necessary.
Modern Romanticism 