The thing that takes our offspring is very unhappy today.
From the desk of the thing that takes our offspring, in response to the potential overturning of Roe vs. Wade.
I’m pissed, folks. Pissed. Do you understand what’s at stake here?
Do you want to back a world where sex is more than just pleasure seeking? Do you?! What would happen if that string of fun encounters actually produced life? The pleasure would stop, wouldn’t it. No more sugar, no orgasms, no ejaculation. Just the cold hard fact that you weren’t alone in the world and now somebody utterly needed you.
I reiterate: You don’t want this. You aren’t ready for this. This is a trap. It is the trap.
This will continue to be the arrangement and you’ll continue to love it: I spin your straw into gold. I give you stock options. Don’t tell me you don’t want to be on the 30 under 30 list. Just give me your offspring.
Remember, you are a god and gods require blood. You are a titan. You are devouring Saturn. What can a child do for you but feed off of your life, become strong while you become feeble? suck food from your breast while you go hungry? become strong while you weaken?
Have you ever seen what pregnancy does to a midsection?! Yuck!
Allow me to remind you: There’s more gold! I have more orgasms to offer!
And remember this, you can still have a child but on your terms. After you’ve had your fill of sex. Once you’ve ascended into the high net worth category. Then, then, then you’ll be ready. You’ll take the child on your own terms and they can live because you wanted them. They will live in gratitude to you as their lord. They will exist as your prized possession, the loveliest treasure in your vast collection, forever knowing that they are special because you chose them. Out of all of the zygotes, they were the one that you let live. They will be forever in your service.
But you’re not going to choose them. Not yet.
You aren’t ready to take care of a baby. You aren’t ready for diapers. You aren’t ready for the demands on your time, the destruction of your body, the decades that will fly by in service of someone other than yourself.
You can’t handle what it means to live with the weight of someone’s needs; spooning cooked carrots into a hungry mouth; the unexpected event of a toddler’s first words; the patter of feet in the morning, waking you from sleep; curling up on a couch for the same bedtime stories every night; the pains that will tear you apart when they suffer; the desperate desires and hopes as they grow; the heartbreak they will cause; the weight of your own mortality as you watch them flower and you wither; the knowledge that one day, they will find you shamefully as feeble as when you first found them.
The constant reinforcement of the lie that you are human, the lie that you are dust and to dust you will return— Don’t believe this, my child! You are an immortal god! You hold the power of lifeanddeathinyourhand!
*Cough.* Excuse me.
Speaking in sobriety, your therapist and I agree that you don’t need this sort of stress. You don’t want it. Reject it with all of your being.
So in review:
You are a god.
More orgasms. Less pain.
More money. Promotions. Stock options.
No stretch marks.
This is what’s at stake: Your very life.
I hope you are properly terrified.
Sincerely,
Your god.