I wake up some mornings and wonder if this is it for the rest of my days? (however more there may be)
“What is it?” You may be asking.
Well, I seem to be very confused about the process of life. 10 years ago, at age 24 – a young man – I didn’t worry so much about being a ‘man‘, so to speak (a grown up man).
At 34 (12,450 days old, including leap years since 1983), I do worry about it. Constantly. Every day. It’s safe for you to conclude that I don’t feel like one at least.
What is a man, and who defines it then? Other men? Women? Or yourself?
That’s a good question actually. Who defines what?
After some thought, I think that only I can define myself in this instance. For it is me who is responsible for doing, saying, and thinking all the things a so-called man should do, say, and think.
Well then. What should I do, say, and think? And who decides that?
I could go on forever, but I think I’m ok for now. It’s clear that defining what is and what isn’t a man, in this day and age, is debatable – perhaps.
What do you think?