My ancestors believed no man should run away from his responsibilities. Yes. To face your demons, your foes and your lovers with the same integrity of character was just another name for being a man (or a tough and girlie woman like me).
My ancestors didn’t have balls they had a foundation.
While others were running away or begging for mercy under the shinny blades of foreigners, my ancestors were declaring independence, creating their own language and declaring war on anybody who attempted to keep them tamed. My ancestors created a new nation out of love for their own kind and respect for what they pursued to be a free civilization.
My ancestors believed that to exist without lingering under the shadow of an overpowering church was a truly free-living experience and so they marched and created a new State.
My ancestors loved the ocean, the sweat and tears of their brothers and sisters and found the thrill of crying quite fulfilling since melancholy was just another name for love.
Often enough, my ancestors believed they could too be weak and fall under the spell of a proposal they would not be able to refuse but until then, they were sworn to be men and men don’t fucking run away.
When someone I know refuses to solve a problem like a man solves a problem, intrigue kicks in. How could one prefer to run when the only alternative is to stand and speak up? I don’t know and I could not be certain for sure. Until the moment I get an answer I’ll repeat: a man doesn’t run away, create excuses, refuses to listen, no. A man doesn’t need a strategy to escape when the problem can be solved and a man doesn’t run away when the problem doesn’t have a solution, a man stands and faces the consequences simply because it is his responsibility.
After all, cowards are wimpy and the world always enjoyed whipping chicken butts into butter.