In Defense of Only Children
I’m being nice… imma obliterate your negative logic.
They are only children.
Don’t do that to them.
Whether only children or only children, the fact remains
They’re only children.
If we think there is a pandemic of not only loneliness, but also onlyness
Then it’s on us to convince our children that large families are the logical way to proceed into the universe.
OK, citizens of the United States. Look at your own lives. Would it be better if you had 4 or 5 more kids in the mix?
No, it would be decidedly worse. You know it.
I know it.
Our government knows it.
They went to far on the “Capitalism” messaging in the 50’s. They listened to economists, who were just the 50’s versions of nerds who smoke pot and get even nerdier. Capitalism isn’t a way of life. Capitalism was marketing to rally the minds against the Chinese threat. Anyhow, it’s a long story.
I think I took a job and fucked with a bitch because she gave me shit about having an only child. She said he’d be weird.
I am here to prove he is weird because of me. I am a person who would take a high-profile job working for this person who said this thing about my kid, then walk out on the job exposing her stale-sexy pyramid scheme.
They are only children.
They are all our children.
And they are only children.
All of my love went to my only child.
What the rest of you will never know, is the glow in my soul that I feel when I say one and owns. He owns me. My one and only. My one and only child shining the light of love right back at this universe, the way his mamma wouldve expected outta him. Since she felt the same for him. (Ye’s mom.)
I love saying “my only child.” I love saying, “nope, just the one” in a tone that betrays my happiness. My satisfaction with my life’s circumstances that allows my to have a high voltage wire connection across “a stick from my heart to yours” that brings me peace in troubled times, comfort in bad weather, purpose in meaninglessness, direction when I believe I’m lost.
One. Baby. Boy.
And if you, society, had raised me to believe that sisters could be equally awesome. There didn’t need to be one sister who was better than the other. It’s archaic and harmful thinking. The value of the child is disconnected from the mother’s opinion of that child. But, the mother’s willingness to give of herself to that next child is entirely the mother’s. The one and only mother’s to make. Mothers make. Only mothers make. Only mothers vote. Neddy Bly is compiling the first ever list of public protesters, brave enough to choose independence over men publically. A vow to never turn back. To break free, find you, then return home… if you choose. If you BOTH. WANT.
What do you want to want?