I may be getting on in years, but I still consider myself a bit of a romantic. Why, just today, I was strolling through the park when I happened to spy a young, upper-class, straight male Caucasian sharing a kiss with his beloved, and I tell you, my heart nearly skipped a beat. The very sight of it filled me with a deep yearning and sense of elation that stirred this old man to his core. And I thought to myself, “Ah, to be young, wealthy, white, male, college-educated, heterosexual, and in love!”
There’s really nothing quite like it.
When you’re in your twenties, a man, descended from Anglo-Saxon genes, born into immense luxury, able-bodied, surrounded by friends, family, and authority figures who support you, mentally alert, straight, possessing a degree from a respected four-year institution, and head over heels in love, the world just seems like a magical place, doesn’t it? The sun shines brighter, the breeze blows sweeter, and it feels like you’re on top of the world! Anyone who’s ever been captivated like that and has had all the advantages life has to offer handed to them on a silver platter because of their race, class, family history, and education level knows exactly what I’m talking about.
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