Bad Genes

My third wife is angry now, she knows that I cheated. But I like life on the edge, so I told her to pack up and beat it. Then I walked in Santa Monica, a man was lying in the path He was in obvious pain, but I gave a nasty laugh I passed a new store with an astrology sign. On impulse I went in, and I waited in line. I recognized partiers from my script writing days Those parties got me addicted, when crack was the craze. An assistant asked us permission to swab our cheeks I started wondering, was this place for freaks? Then a gypsy lady came out, beckoned me to a booth She said “we’re high tech now; genes tell the truth." “Your Dopamine receptors are all out of whack Your D3 is high, I guess you take crack Your D2 is low, are you an impulsive guy? I said "so far you're on target my genes did not lie." She said, "low vasopressin, do you cheat on your wife?" I said, “I’m floored, it’s the story of my life!" She said "I see your amygdala must be small: "I would guess you don’t care about people at all.” “On the good side, D1 is high, you're a creative type" I said, “I write edgy scripts, and I’m great at hype!” She held her nose, said "your profile gives me a fright. "Forget the fee, there's the exit, get out of my sight!" So I left the gypsy lady, walked out into the sun Then a still small voice spoke, said "your story isn't done: Why not change, rebel against those genes, leave the crypt? Take charge of the plot and change the script!" I looked around, couldn't see where the voice came from: I shrugged it off, then I began to run. I thought I'm no hypocrite, I know myself; I don't care It's the others, the do-gooders, who do most harm out there. I wondered if anyone knows themselves for real Are values everlasting, or are values what we feel? I didn't want to break the mold, I wanted to be me But that nagging voice echoed - which direction makes you free?