We can literally do the same thing everyday and we’ll live a decent life, probably make a good living and provide for our families and do all those things that “good men” are supposed to do.
But we won’t live to the capacity that our potential dictates we live.
We’ll never feel the thrill of victory nor the shame of defeat.
We’ll never feel the pounding of our hearts as we creep too close to death’s door in a daring act.
Routine is a must for every man, but it’s the structure of the routine that is most important, not the details.
With each ounce of positive reinforcement crammed down our throats by the child psychologists who’ve never had children, we become tamed.
In the same manner we tame a dog we tame a wee lad.
The feminized, ultra vain, unisexed-yet-clearly-masculine-in-plumming-but-not-in-action-or-thought humans who have embraced this monotony with open arms because it provides the single thing they crave most: safety. Even if you get home and park your ass in front of the TV for hours upon hours, you’re not yet lost.
There are those who have slid into the lap dog life and refuse to open their eyes to the reality that their contains no living. Even if you watch reality shows with your lady, you haven’t gone too far.