don't harangue my life with care for pity at woman's idiocy, not having adopted Caesarian birth as universally adequate and prospering her, to instil this barbaric guilt in me wondering why women, of all mammals had no natural anaesthetic produced when giving birth... **** your little guilt-trip argument! Caesarian or no argument!*
to be robbed of a glorious death, and be given an inglorious birth, esp. when women were given an ease with a Caesarian birth diplomacy... what's there to retain for man? ardency in labour? old age? i too was robbed of what Caesar described as the ideal death: the sudden one... am i to wait for my sickbed... if i only chanced the thrill of life within one sunset and sought no night to encompass my life as worthy compensation of nothing. a life lived to the bell-tone of a replaced uvula, no care for charity asserted... in that one momentary exception of all life prior, to have lived it, and hence entombed, readied for the element acquiring me to further its signature... as sustainable... i'd rather die a painful death that live a comfortable life: pain is eased with its short-lived establishing awareness when the glory prior is "prolonged" ascribed to the fates akin to Achilles... and indeed pain is merely pain with its prolonging on the sickbed... counter heroism, so defeatist; how many times am i to be robbed? to thus experience such shallows of thieves with cheap constantly expedient thievery? i've had enough to concede to a juggle of fates and fortunes! one smooth stroke of the ace rather than the many axe-hackings of the neck of ****** Mary. bothersome agitations via pride, honour and braveness, only if they do not happen, and should they, they'd be undertaken, but to no quest of celebratory non-enactment, i.e.: farting rather than ******* prior: to be given a wave of the standard acupuncture of infantry: as guarantee of mythology; and a nobleman on his horse without a stirrup prior to the *** intervention.