Walk right up into a brand new day,
insane and rising in my own weird way.
I don’t wanna be the bad guy.
I don’t wanna do your sleep

Walk dance. Anymore.

–Everclear, “Santa Monica”

You shut your mouth! How can you say, I ‘go about things the wrong way’?

I’ll admit the part about fetuses was a little privileged of me, in the language of the day.

But not only would I never have to worry about pregnancy, I never had to even worry about impregnating, either. I know lots of people who would see that as some kind of tragedy–some have even said it to my face. I always saw it as liberating, a freedom to be a libertine, a freedom to not have to care … or rather a freedom with respect to what I have to care about.

The truth is that for anyone with the means, abortion always has been and always will be an option everywhere.

I am free to care less, about spawning or not spawning.

I am free to care more about the “anyone with the means” part instead.

In any half-civilized society, a woman would not only have the ‘right’ to end a pregnancy, she’d also be able to get it done without worrying about how to pay through the cervix to actually get one. She’d have the right to health care.

Sure I’m pro-choice. I just don’t see why I should only be pro-choice about this one little issue that doesn’t affect me.

I want the right to have my student debt forgiven after, say, thirty or forty years.

Hell, any debt.

I want the right to an appendectomy, without the pro choice being between dying on the one hand, and life-crushing, death-dealing expense on the other, as it must be in any obscenely for-profit system of ‘care’.

I want life, without enslavement.

I want real liberty, not this fake Malarkey they work day and night to cram down my throat instead.

The one thing on the list I do have, to a degree, is the right to pursue happiness.

But not the right to have the pursuit succeed.

That part’s on me, and of course it has to be, because my definition of happy is, in the details, unique to my self.

Also, the part about deciding whether I’ve caught it yet or not. I mean, literally no one else is qualified to say.

The way things stand on that is Yes. I’ve caught it.

Over and over again, before it gets away.

Elusive little fucker.