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Goodbye Jesus

Man


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I am a man. I know where I stand. I always can and I make plans.

 

I am brutal and brash,

Hollow, holy and horny.

I’m sure you’ll agree, that’s me to a T.

I am a man,

I think.

 

I don’t think, too much, or I’ll sink; it’s too tough,

Although nothing’s too tough or too much for me, for men.

I am a man, and I stand and withstand any torment.

 

If it’s fight or it’s flight, or it’s backrubs,

All you lack’s just

A man, with a plan, who can.

That’s who I am. Right?

 

Right and wrong? My morals are more: mighty and strong.

I am decisive and incisive. I don’t care if I’m divisive.

I belong in this body. And I long to be free.

 

It’s not easy to break me, but these are the things that make me

Me. It’s my identical identity.

I believe, I bleed and I’m a leader. Are you following me?

 

Blood, guts and gore, I’m always striving for more

Of those blows in the hope of some story of glory.

And if you want to explore, I will take you on a tour

Of hells and my Mordor and I’ll show

You my home that bores and abhors me.

 

It’s a land called Maniya, or should that be mania?

It’s a more dangerous place

Than you fickle fags ever faced.

It’s plain and always the same there,

Lest change leads to gayness and failure.

 

Man up! And learn.

God forbid you ever turn up looking like the fucking Milkybar Kid.

 

I am a man. I know where I stand. I always can and I make plans.

And this I will never be anything other than

Since if you take away man from human you have

‘Who?’

And that’s not what I am.

 

I see nothing worthwhile in being anything but servile

To this sterile notion, this puerile potion called manliness.

It’s certainly not a curtain behind which we hide our happiness.

It’s surely not a poorly constructed unattainable entertainment of the ideal

That’s not real, that hates us when we feel, and that papers over our crappiness.

No whey!

 

I am a man. I know where I stand. I always can and I make plans.

I’ll never change because change is a disease

That hits strangers, my enemies,

A race of haters that campaign against apartheid.

It never afflicts fans in the crowd of us who can,

Who proudly make plans and who loudly call ourselves ‘man’.

Of one of them I am. Aren’t I?

 

I’ll stay the same till I die and I’ll live just to try or die trying

Not to lose what is rightfully mine: my manly mind.

In here I reside,

And I’m fine.

 

No emotions allowed, no feelings espoused, no worries are housed

In the four walls of this penis prison.

You shouldn’t look in a book, or sniff flowers, or kiss like a coward.

Don’t overthink or your boner will sink.

Life is a mirror, not a see-through prism.

 

I am a man. I know where I stand.

I am free to be me, as long as we’re after the

Unwary and carefree part of me,

The hairy half of me, and there’ll be no catharsis,

No dancing, no arty-farty heart to me, no ‘can’t do this - they’ll laugh at me!’

 

I am a man. I make plans.

And the main aim of my designs boils down to one line:

To stay man, for as much time as I possibly can.

My life has got to be this grand man plan.

 

I know that I can, because I know where I stand. I won’t blink

Because I am a man,

I think.

 
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I can't speak to what it's like to be a man, but that's a damn good vignette.

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I like it.  Well done.

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