Tortured girls’ self-slavery (tethered touches, synthetic smiles, melted minds)

Nations-worth of unwanted girls, each rushed off the stage: taught to numb her mind with buzzing chants and pallid praise, that every non-man is an island—a new, hopeful, misled, drained, vengeful, sad, scared, angry, petty, needy, ungrateful, discarded, isolated, desperate, empowered island.

“Better to die on your feet than to live on your knees,” unbelieved—just another banal burp of listless social-trigonometry masked as philosophy, for those travelling fastest: alone, dead, and, for a forgotten blink, far ahead of those who will travel much farther—with, by, and for others.

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