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Fight or Flight
Author:
xmol PM
Within every man, two instincts are at war. Rated T for briefly mentioning mature topics.
Rated: Fiction T - English - Words: 473 - Published: 09-20-11 - Status: Complete - id: 2954040
A+  A-   Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten

In the nature of every animal lies the basic instinct of "Fight or Flight". We all know this. But this nature is found in humans as well, for we have yet to fully shake off the shackles of instinct. Every day humans are faced with an opportunity to flee from their situations:

Or fight to the death.

Drugs, alcohol, sex, video games, faded daydreams and soon split seams. Fast cars, loud music, adrenaline rushing through our veins, burning away all previous pains. That basic need to run, to move, to escape from that which would cut our brief breath on this earth to an even shorter burst. Flight. For a while, it was all we had. Apes moving in the foggy moor, flinging upright after eons in a tree. All they could do was move, hide and scream at those that would devour them. Millennia later, peasants working in their fields, making life as good as they can. Raiders move in, cunning, powerful, fast and hungry for both flesh and meat. Devouring, burning and tearing through the souls of poor, unprotected people. Flight was the only option. It has kept us alive for countless songs.

Pain, revolution. Agony, passion, bursts of glory and greatness like a flare in the deep, bright light swallowed whole, its memory fading. That desire we have to rule, to conquer, to make a better life for our own by breaking the backs of those that would stop us. That is fight. From uprisings and rebellions over countless years, to peaceful marches that shook the world, fighting is fast, radical change, for good or ill. Fight sometimes is the only option. Sometimes it produces the only satisfying results.

Both of these are needed now. In this day and age, luxury is so common that every feels wary of upsetting the balance, of upsetting the silver cushion that many of us lie on. We can't afford that. We need to push on, push forward; we need a world that will be better for our children and our children after them. We need to fight for it. And if you chose not to, that is alright. The basic instinct allows for choice, and just like any other, there is a wrong one. Continue to flee from reality, to run from immortality, to sit and read what the masses approve. Or you can stand, and fling your chest out and stop accepting, stop believing. No, don't stop believing. Never stop believing in yourself, and in other people, to do the right thing. But don't wait for it. Go out there, and change the world. Write. Stories, songs, poems and essays; each are a flash of brilliance in the dark cave of mass-produced loneliness.

So do you read, or do you write? Is it run, or is it fight?

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