those are the options a boy is given at birth,
a choice between two evils—
for to be is to conform,
to choose the path of ignorance,
for to not be is to remove oneself,
to stray from the social norms,
To be is to blend,
to fade into a mass of faces that never ask questions,
to wear the uniform of comfort,
to follow the crowd without ever knowing why.
It’s to shut your eyes,
to smile and nod,
and pretend that you’ve figured it out
when the truth is you’re just drifting,
suspended in a current that leads nowhere.
But to not be—
to stand apart—
is to feel the weight of a world that cannot understand you.
It’s to be misunderstood,
labeled as lost or crazy,
but deep inside,
there’s a fire that refuses to be extinguished.
To not be is to question everything,
even your own reflection,
to challenge what is said to be true
and create your own truths,
even when it feels like you’re the only one who believes them.
And so the boy stands,
on the edge of these two choices,
each a path with its own promise,
its own cost.
To be is to live in a lie that everyone else accepts—
to wear a mask that fits just right,
but hides the person beneath.
To not be is to risk it all—
to tear away the mask,
to live in the rawness of truth,
to be exposed,
and to wonder if the world will ever be ready to see you as you are.
And so, the boy is left wondering
was he given two options at birth?
Or was the real choice always this—
to be neither,
to refuse the roles they've set before him,
and to create his own way,
somewhere between the lies and the isolation?
To decide not what the world tells him he must be,
but to question,
to carve out his own existence—
for, perhaps,
the answer lies in asking the question
again and again…
to be or not to be?
I've never been able to decide which path is easier, to be or not to be, and if ease even dictates the better path to choose.
