Being an outcast I am doomed to walk the downtown Toronto streets of loneliness. My short stature, limp walk and mangled arm repel the beautiful women to turn away in horror. As I walk down a busy avenue or enter a public place their eyes and heads turn in another direction after gazing at my disfigurement. If I glance at a lady in a desirable way or even just look at her, it is an invasion of her privacy because I do not qualify to her standards of desirability. It is an emotional pain to see better qualified man with beautiful women showing them affection while I am condemned to the daily life a miserable loner inside the stuck-up walls of Toronto the Cold.
My only intimacy is when I pay for it to a kind hearted PA. Yet in this backwards society they want to condemn me for seeking my deserved natural requirement. Do they want me to spend my whole miserable life in complete isolation? They should encourage such moments. I dream of being in a situation and position where I could earn enough money to pay for the more than just a half hour once every month of intimacy from a lovely goddess or even being able to attract a real girlfriend.
My only intimacy is when I pay for it to a kind hearted PA. Yet in this backwards society they want to condemn me for seeking my deserved natural requirement. Do they want me to spend my whole miserable life in complete isolation? They should encourage such moments. I dream of being in a situation and position where I could earn enough money to pay for the more than just a half hour once every month of intimacy from a lovely goddess or even being able to attract a real girlfriend.