Pasta Dinner

Reading aloud a high school short story

Wowwwww, you meow like a cat! That means you are one, right? Shut the fuck up. If you really want to be put on a leash and treated like a domestic animal then that’s called a fetish, not “quirky” or “cute”. What part of you seriously thinks that any part of acting like a feline establishes a reputation of appreciation? Is it your lack of any defining aspect of personality that urges you to resort to shitty representations of cats to create an illusion of meaning in your worthless life? Wearing “cat ears” in the shape of headbands further notes the complete absence of human attribution to your false sense of personality, such as intelligence or charisma in any form or shape. Where do you think this mindset’s gonna lead you? You think you’re funny, random, quirky even? What makes you think that acting like a fucking cat will make a goddamn hyena laugh? I, personally, feel extremely sympathetic towards you as your only escape from the worthless thing you call your existence is to pretend to be an animal. But it’s not a worthy choice to assert this horrifying fact as a dominant trait, mainly because personality traits require an initial personality to lay their foundation on. You’re not worthy of anybody’s time, so go fuck off, “cat-girl”.

Are you serious? Asking a girl to show her titties is one of the most romantic flirts ever conceived of in human history. Think about it. Breasts are a display of human sexuality often kept under lock and key because of societal conditioning. When I ask you to present yours to me, I am making a proclamation that my romantic inclinations toward you outweigh the total judgement of said society. In a sense, I am inviting you to join me in a world where the expectations that others have for us have no bearing upon the decisions we make and the communication that we engage with. Like in that song, I am beckoning you over so I can stop the world and melt with you. Furthermore, take note of my use of the word "titties" versus alternatives like boobs or the formal breasts. The phonic repetition of the term evokes the dual nature of the mammaries themselves in an almost onomatopoeic way. In essence, I am suggesting that the bond we would share is so powerful that such novelties are needed to describe them and it would transcend the distillation of language into a collection of definitions. If you can't see the romance in this, maybe you're not the person I thought you were.