Patriotism.

They call upon me to be patriotic. Son of the country. To put arms and march forward. Patriotism was to get blindly blamed for a fault I did not commit, fear when I was sick and unable to move. I fear my own country more than love for it. The very people I swore to protect, why have they not protected my being. Toughen us up for war? Or to desensitise us to pain. Are we just a number or a person?

I often criticise the need for war and military. The greed of men caused the need for war while they watch from back lines. Waging war to sell food to the poverty stricken, to steal land for food, water and air. The very life god gave us, they put a price tag on that. What rights do they have?

What rights do I, as a son of god? To be obligated to men who do not care for sons of the country, who have sacrificed their sanity, mental well being and physical body for the motherland? And the only excuse they gave was. Everyone else did it. If everyone else was poverty stricken and went to kill themselves. Do I question it? Or follow blindly?

From the moment I was born, I was a son of god. I am not obligated nor responsible for a country’s patriotic views and ambitions. My mother put warm meals on the table, water, rooftop and a bed. The country did not provide it. My mother worked her hands till they bled, till she gave out. For me.

I have always spoken of my ambition. I will never be obligated to any entity nor being. Not even god drives me into obligation, but lets me choose with free will from love. What rights do you have?

My life is not yours to choose, decide and sacrifice.