While, granted, options are extremely limited “out there” (out there being the cold abyss we call Earth), it doesn’t mean a “girl” should feel so confined by the lack of choice that she ignores the blatant signs of the sociopath “male”–of which there are many. In fact, some Valerie Solanas types might argue that all “men” are sociopaths, which, yes, seems like an increasingly viable thesis statement. Defined in its most simplistic form as someone “with a personality disorder manifesting itself in extreme antisocial attitudes and behavior and a lack of conscience,” many of the “men” living in Brooklyn fall under this blanket description. Antisocial attitudes, after all, don’t necessarily entail a shut-in who won’t leave his house (minus the part where most “men” are always playing video games). The behavior can also encompass a natural hatred of women and a tendency toward mind flaying (not an intentional Stranger Things reference)–e.g. one minute acting super attentive and into it and the next disappearing for days before reemerging onto the text scene.
Yet, because of New York City’s specific concentration of “men” paired with a simultaneous and ironic paucity of selection, “women” are so often willing to discount their gut instincts with regard to interpreting a sociopath’s very overt comportment. “Oh, he’s just having a hard time at work” or “Oh, he just has to focus on himself right now before he can fully devote his time to me” are some of the many infinite excuses a “girl” might use to justify out loud to her friends why she’s still putting up with the sociopath’s antics. Alas, she’s going to find it very difficult to justify to the corpse of first her mind then her body why she decided to endure the fuckery for so long. What? All to not be alone. Sod that, we’re all alone in our head anyway, and you’re better off inside yours than trying to enter that of the socio “male’s.”
Missing A Clit 
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