I’m an anxious insecure personality. The outside world is a scary place and at social events, I’m often dying to get away.
And then a tall black chick walks up to me with kinky hair and gleaming teeth and she initiates the conversation and we hit it off and I keep circling back to her all night.
I love her confidence. I love her strength. Black chicks are so forthright. They just say things right off. They just get it out there. They lay things on the table. There’s no beating around the bush. You know where you’re at. They don’t play games like white chicks.
If I can’t marry a black chick, an Ethiopian Jewess or some such, then maybe I’ll snag a creamy Persian or Sephardi. Just so long as she’s strong enough to kick my butt.
* “Emotional starvation” is the phrase that comes to mind when I think about my early childhood. It’s why I strike people as needy and insecure. What did you want from your parents when you were a little kid? It probably bears a dramatic resemblance to what you want from your partner today (aside from the sex). I didn’t get as much mothering as I wanted in my earliest years, so I suck my sheilas dry today, certain the breast will soon run out. I didn’t get as much fathering as I wanted, so to this day, I keep seeking out substitute father figures, and, on occasion, idealizing and glorifying them.
