To be a rebel.

I wonder. If we all have to be protected from ourselves. So that we don’t go off the deep ends. Or far, far beyond the horizons. Better to play it safe. Or so I’m advised by some dear friends. Personally, I’d rather take chances. High risks. Unafraid to make mistakes along the way. After all, life was meant to be an adventure. Into the unknown. That’s reason to push my imagination into the realms of the almost unimaginable.  To the very brink.  I’m accused of thinking too much. Told that I’d be better off. By resting my mind. And learning to obey the prescribed rules.  To fit in. Like a good boy. But it occurred to me. At an early age. To be a rebel. --Jim Broede

Yes, I'm happy to say.

Sad to say.  But every day, Thousands of people. Around the world. Can no longer face their ‘realities.’ So they opt for suicide.  Maybe they’re refugees. Who have run out of hope. Or they have dreadful and painful illnesses. Or perhaps they have committed shameful acts/crimes. They can no longer face and endure the realities of life. So, presto. They stop living. Taking their own lives. Who’s to blame?  Should it be the individual? Or can we put some of the onus on society.  For not intervening.  For not coming to the rescue of others. Just leaving it go. By ignoring reality. And getting on with the rest of our lives.  Until meeting our own inevitable deaths. From natural causes. As for me. I don’t want to leave. Voluntarily. Best to stick around. And search for reasons. To keep falling in love. With life. Yes, I’m happy to say. --Jim Broede