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This is the underside of my world.Of course you don__ want me to be stupid, bless you! you only want to make sure you__e intelligent. You don__ want me to commit suicide; you only want me to be gratefully aware of my dependency. You don__ want me to despise myself; you only want the flattering deference to you that you consider a spontaneous tribute to your natural qualities. You don__ want me to lose my soul; you only want what everybody wants, things to go your way; you want a devoted helpmeet, a self-sacrificing mother, a hot chick, a darling daughter, women to look at, women to laugh at, women to come for comfort, women to wash your floors and buy your groceries and cook your food and keep your children out of your hair, to work when you need the money and stay home when you don__, women to be enemies when you want a good fight, women who are sexy when you want a good lay, women who don__ complain, women who don__ nag or push, women who don__ hate you really, women who know their job and above all__omen who lose. On top of it all, you sincerely require me to be happy; you are naively puzzled that I should be wretched and so full of venom in this the best of all possible worlds. Whatever can be the matter with me? But the mode is more than a little outworn.As my mother once said: the boys throw stones at the frogs in jest.But the frogs die in earnest.