One sad morning, a poor soul was at the bus stop waiting to catch a bus to his destination. The young man was tall and tough and his trousers hung loosely to his waist. He was mean and dark as the midnight. He pierced his ears and his earrings and necklace shone like the rising sun. Apart from the dreadlocks that hung down from his head, there was nothing suspicious about him. His look, no matter how bizarre, was never enough for him to be robbed of his rights and tossed into the outer darkness. He was a product of an ever changing world. Civilization comes with a price. We either live with it or we are left behind. There was a time it was an abomination for a man to be seen in the public not clearly defined as a man because his earrings and necklace competed for space in the public eyes with his mustache. As you know, a man that wants to survive public life must hide his imperfections. Conflicting identity is an imperfection and it sends the wrong signal. The mentally weak is ch...
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