While the majority of people my age have transformed into fathers I remain in the same form I remain a single adult.

I listen to co-workers and friends talking about their daily adventures with baby-raising and I do not know what to think.

I am not looking forward to that kind of life.It seems unbearably restrictive and stressful. About the only thing I cherish in my life is that I do not have any obligations. The mere comparison of my life with the life of those people actually makes me feel younger.

As for babies, they are completely alien to me. As an only child I never had any nephews to help me familiarize with the whole situation nor any younger siblings. My closest friends don’t have any babies either.

To be honest, the mere thought of my as a father scares the living shit out of me.

Yet I cannot say that I never imagine myself as one. That would be a lie. But there are so many unknown variables to that eventuality, so many ifs, that even thinking about it is pointless. But idle minds have nothing else to do but think pointlessly.

Sometimes I think that children will be the only antidote to dealing with the eventuality of death.

Sometimes I think that they will be the only way to keep whatever love you have inside you fresh and flowing.

But sometimes I think they will be a source of malice and hurt when they grow up.

I can’t say why I’ve written this. I guess it’s been bugging me a lot lately and I’m hoping this helps it go away for a while.

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