“Did you come here to die?”
A raw question, very difficult to articulate.
It’s a gene.
My grandmother’s father, story tells of a very terrible man, and he carried a gene. Memory of horror, monster blood cooked in trauma, brought to a simmer.
The frustrating part, if I learn and I make the choice “that gene must die, that blood must not be allowed to pester the next group of people”
It doesn’t matter,, it’s already too late.
The gene skips, here and there, two cousins without, two uncles with….
Some of the family get’s the blues, and a select few get the hurricane….
My cousin’s son, not his daughter , but his son. He’s got it, I see it plain as day, and he’s being raised in a Silly sect of a Christian household, They both want to see Tammy in heaven, that’s all they want,, so what do you get?
You get this blonde,hyperactive child with a sadistic streak, a streak of rebellion, running and laughing from Mom and Dad when it’s time to discipline , the little guy doesn’t seem to share everyone else’s reality….
Whoopsy?
That kid shouldn’t have been born?
I can’t say that.
I can say that in 15-20 years you’ll have another one out there, another version of me, different experience , same gene.
Gotta look at your family tree, gotta see the genes, honestly I’m 100% in favor of gene editing for that exact reason.
There’s some shit inside, and it travels through time, and it mutates upon observation , and it reacts to external stimuli, and it’s alive.
And there’s a little boy out there with it,, same shit,, same shit that keeps me typing, raised under the house of God and acting like he’s pissed off about it.
Whoopsy Goldberg.
Shoulda thought about that.
Did I come here to die?
It wouldn’t matter, the gene already spread, whether or not I chose to reproduce,,eesh, shit man,, that thing is already out there.
Maybe it’s always been out there, different flavors, different variants,, same rebel monkey.
Shitting all over campfires,,,,,
Tragic.
Let’s talk about the Middle East some more lolololol
dawn 