My Life all began, arguably, after four months of hard work on my parents’ part to conceive the embryo that would later develop to the dysfunctional human being it now is. Now, I’m going to consider my embryo as myself mainly to make this paper look larger and more intimidating than it actually is, but if I were to look for a real reason as to why I might consider myself something alive when I was merely an embryo, it would be that I’m writing this paper in the last months of Mr. President Bush’s presidency, and I figure if anyone is to throw the poor guy a bone, it may as well be me. Getting on with out story, as an embryo, I had only one thing on my mind, expansion. As soon as I was big enough, I could move on to bigger and better things. To this end, I consider myself, at this point in time, a utilitarian.
The next stage of my life was when I was finally born. My goals as an embryo had finally been achieved! However, my birth was a complicated one. I was very reticent to let go of my views as an embryo. The outside world kind of scared me, and so I made every effort to cling to my existence as it was; very much afraid to take the “leap of faith” Nietzsche talks about. In fact, I was so reluctant to leave my mother’s womb that not only was I two weeks overdue, but I also had to be delivered as an emergency caesarian-section because I had wrapped my umbilical cord around my neck in a manner of protest to my birth. (The doctors said were I to have been born as-was, I would have probably choked to death.) Nevertheless, I was born.
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