SELFISH GENE

Of the little I know of myself, I believe this life I live does not solve the puzzle of death. Why die when I could go on living? Neither does death solve the question of life, why am I living only to die? Shouldn’t I die when I very well feel like? I want to choose to die. Choose to be born, same way I choose to live. Who makes the rules? I have an axe to grind with him!

I choose to love. Who to love and on whatever terms to do so. The choices I make might as well have a stamp of my personality. I have a selfish gene like all of humanity. I choose to protect my own, even at great cost, against my better judgment. I don’t mind, though. I have chosen to do so, expecting no reward, no acknowledgement, no nothing. I choose.

I choose to hold back my emotions. I love her. I see a future that she can’t see yet. I choose to be complacent in my beliefs, choosing not to explain to her what I see. I make my future, whatever the circumstance. I could bend her to my will, but in so doing, I remove the question of CHOICE from her perspective.

A man has to make the first move. He has to provide, he has to protect. A woman has to be hard to get. She has to doubt. She has to obey, make a home. We have to awake each day and strive into the night, for what, I do not understand as yet. We have to have friends, to talk. Be happy. Reach out to our kind. We have to fight for country, fight for our souls, make love not war. I have to speak so you understand. I would rather  look at you and you infer my intentions in my eyes. We have to grow old, get serious, get weak, lay down and prepare to die

WHO THE HELL MAKES UP THESE RULES!
 I WILL LIVE ON MY OWN TERMS FROM NOW  ON. 
I DANCE TO MY TUNE! TO HELL WITH THE WORLD!!!