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Conflict

 I live for conflict. 

My very presence screams for conflict.

I view life as a stage shared with actors and actresses who engage each other to squeeze out stories.


I am silent in the community of speakers.

I am with voice in the community of silence.


I fight for gay rights in the circle of conservatives. 

I reel in my gay friends with conservative thoughts.


I show the existence of God to non-believers.

I question the existence of God to theists.


Is there a definite answer? Do I care for a definite answer? 

No. I live for conflict, remember?

Or maybe I do, but that in itself is another sweet, sweet argument that is saved to be savored at another time.


On the surface, I see a duality of our Nature. The balance that is presented in our blueprints of thought, with a subconscious understanding of what is good and bad, in general.


Below the surface, i see uniqueness and myriads of characters surging up to seize the day, regardless of right and wrong. I feel that they just want to live out lifetimes of stories.


I am kind to those who hurt me. 

I hurt those who are kind to me. 

I come like a hyena to a carcass when trouble gives off its distinctive smell, and I ravage it to its bones. 


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