Could it be that our fathers have eaten sour grapes and we, the children are fated to pay for it? Cruel fate!
Could it be that the cry of a baby at birth is nothing but a mournful dirge, sparked off by the gifted realization of the cruel interplay of life and death in fate? They mourn while the world merry away! Could this be a sign? A sign that we are nothing but some clowns scripted into this complex and cruel conspiracy called life, staged and managed by a divine muse, to amuse some idle gods!
I am a victim of fate’s calumny! I am burdened by fate or rather, I chose to be burdened! What man would choose to be burdened thus? Such is the calumny of fate.
I am scrotum, the sacred sac of life that is being sapped of life! I am the gate keeper, possessor of life’s trigger. The trigger that hangs loosely like a pendulum, waiting for that sacred moment, when my yoke is ‘unburdened’ with such convulsive jerks and watery humans are released into the race for destiny, there where only the fated survives, at the expense of a million others.
My children are innocently driven into a race which is more of death than of birth… and it is my fate that millions should die for one! What a fate!
What is my grouse?
I have been dealt with so unfairly! For centuries, I have been treated like an outcast! This is nothing but a conspiracy! For how else would you explain my exemption from the sex experience? Isn’t it obvious that this is a ploy to relegate me to the background? Pave the way for logic and let reasoning roam unrestrictedly. For what man would choose to labour like a beast of burden and be denied the satisfaction and beauty that comes with experiencing the joy of ones labour? I am tired of playing the fool! I want a piece of the action! I can’t labour for someone else to enjoy the fruit of my labour! I want to plunge into that sea of unending ecstasy with the Penis! No more playing the gate keeper! All I ask is to be included in the sex experience! I want to make my own fate!