Pussy Is Nuts

And I mean that in every way you could possibly interpret such a statement.

Not only is vagina the physiological embodiment of insanity but it also contains the intuition, fortitude and wisdom of the ages. It is no mystery that unfathomable genius is often dogged with paranoid schizophrenic behavior. I know those who are vaginaless would say that there is nothing prodigious about pussy but those mutha fuckas would be dead wrong, yo. How do I know this? Simple. I happen to have in my very own possession... a vagina--a vagina that torments me daily with delusions while simultaneously inspiring a will for greatness within me.

Unfortunately, to date, I have shamefully failed my wondrous vag. This assertion is based on the fact that I am only just now realizing its ferocity. Instead of harnessing the power it has to lay waste to all impediments fool enough to stand in my path, I was seduced by its ability to work evil in the lives of men. And what, you may ask, were the fruits of the wrongdoings I wrought? Not a mutha fuckin thang. This is not to say that I expected to gain anything by doing such. I simply didn't give a damn. I just wanted to get my kicks and piss off a couple niggas in the process. I have done this but at what toll? By giving in to the wild, voracious, egomaniacal impulses of pussy, I gave away years of progress. I devolved before I could even begin to evolve and I'm not the only one, it seems.

When I look out and absorb the world around me, I see so many women who are deep in the throes of pussy dementia. Brizzles having kids to trap a nigga who ain't shit anyway just so nobody else can have him, only to realize that he's still free as a bird while she alone bears the burden of a dual parenthood. Hoes using pussy to climb up on a small pile of someone else's riches while that time could have been better spent building a wealth of self-worth and autonomy. Now to these women the cure more favors the disease. I may not have engaged in any of those particular pursuits, but I am no stranger to the urges that bring these ill-founded reasonings about. Pussy will whisper to you and say "If you have this kid he ain't gone be able to go no where." "If you put me on him real good his pockets will open and his eyes will be forever closed--to your motives and all other women." Or (my personal favorite) "Go ahead and fuck em. The only thing that matters is that you let go first. This will prove your dominance and you win." Crazy, crackheaded designs all and none yield the desired result.

If a woman gives in to the weakness of scorn, vagina's true baseness will be revealed. This was my ailment. I was weak--downtrodden with bitterness toward a group whose "members" I thought posed some threat to me (thanks to the paranoia that comes standard with any vagina). There was once a time not to long ago when any nigga I left high and dry (and there's plenty of em) would see me in public and cut his eyes HARD at me. They would glare as I went about my evening and I could feel their staring. Without acknowledgement, I absolutely delighted myself in their displays. In no regard do I claim any "diva" type status. I could give a fuck really. I merely mastered the lost art of the bump n run. As soon as I realized how severely it troubled a man to be forgotten I couldn't quite help forgetting. I'm not proud of it (anymore) but that was my habit. Admittedly, a fucked up one, but that was the way I chose to wield my God-given gift. #fail

Had I taken the time to understand exactly what it was that I had in vagina instead of the low, short road to instant gratification, there is no doubt I would be in a different position today. I don't know exactly what that position might have been nor do I care to partake in any ruminations. The point is that the awesome power I possess herein my biology did lay can now be put to better use with the more illogical undertakings of pussy far behind me. It is my hope that all of you humans out there with a vagina attached to you would come to the same realization. Besides... isn't it much easier to breathe freely and think clearly with ones feet soundly on the floor?