Joshua, it’s odd isn’t it? My parents never owned weapons and my dad is the most peaceful person I know (bordering on pacifist sometimes, which I like). Yet, my brother and I played war in the backyard and we’d each “die” in battle. No one ever taught us this. Hell, sticks became swords even though I had no idea what a sword was or had ever seen one. That said, I’m not proud of the way I think now. I long prefer peace over war and wish it didn’t exist, and yet, to die in battle seems the better route. I’m quite conflicted by it. All I can think is that when my brother and I played and when I was in war, there was always someone there next to me worth dying for. Perhaps that’s more of what it is we yearn for—loving our friends more than we love ourselves. Thanks for reading.

Storyteller | Combat wounded veteran | Metalhead | Designer | Bleeding on a page just makes it more authentic:

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