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A man writes for his own website. He is not hired. His readers are who? He doesn’t know. He cares, but hardly.

His article, his internet post, could be more truthful. This one was of the thought-provoked kind.

But he made it a fictional story.

The fear of truth. The reason for the article.

He isn’t a self-centered man. He is not putting himself on that pity stage. He doesn’t write to be noticed. He writes to understand, to keep going, to not die, honestly. To have no fear, he writes to avoid death.

Does he write to live? Does he live to write? For that, another day. Another post. Another story.

His cynical reality is about love. Men for women, for his sake, is where love is relatable. But, he’s sure, this theory on love is the same for homosexuality or bisexuality or anything under the Marquis de Sade’ version of the pleasure principle.

His cynical reality is that love does not exist. Not a groundbreaking idea. He will, however, list this out. The thoughts numbered without numbers.

Mothers. Next, fathers. The children arrive. Families. Yes, they are bound and familiar and responsible. Loved? Appreciated and supported and cared for and sometimes liked, yes. But loved?

The handling of the egg and the infant. Raise the thing. Teach the thing. Be there for the thing. Adoptions. Humans and wolves. Parasites breeding parasites.

Love?

Love slaves and orgies and submission and dominance and fetishes, yes.

Love?

Maybe love is there. He’s not sure it isn’t … somewhere.

A chemical ebb and flow or pulse and suck?

The interest isn’t with families and friends and brain-body pleasures.

Women and men or romantic relationships in general, because he does think it’s all the same, are false. The love is false.

We, all of us, all of them, argue over which side is correct. Have men been awful since the dawn of man (first man)? Will women become equally terrible in the coming centuries? Are we always doomed to blame and not understand? Women stay together or, some say, they shouldn’t. Men can’t be intimate with their male friends, which means, none of them can be with any of them. Women are forced to bond, gay or otherwise. Gay men keep their power by bonding.

What is the point of trying to be emotional and sensitive?
What is the point of trying to be strong and independent?

We, as a world, procreate. We put up with everything to care for the offspring, to continue the species.
Those who do not produce can support. The only way they know how.

He doesn’t want to be cynical.

Consequently, he’ll support the idea of believing in love.

If not for the young, then for moving forward with old ideas.

[The featured image for this article is from Blue Valentine. Fair warning: Be conscious of the movie’s title.]
Dan Jones

Author Dan Jones

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