One day in which we can calmly pretend, that we succumb to the illusion of equality, but why not for excellence, just because of that, that we have breasts, vagina and only we are capable of giving life. And all the everyday trifles, which land on us invariably from the flight of our spirit with a painful emergency landing to the brink of conventional slavery, are so reasonably logical and undeniably responsive to the notions You, that there is nothing left of us except to we love. Without ideas. That's enough.
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