Such Guts

A man needs a craft, and I say 'a man' because I am a man.  I would refer to  'a woman' if I were a woman, but sadly and happily, the both of them, I am not.  So I will continue as a man, offering the thoughts I have thunk, coincidentally, as a man - which, if you have forgotten already, were resting on the topic of a craft. 
It, a craft, matters to a man in a way that provides such stability and purpose in his life so that nothing else can possibly fall by the wayside. So that nothing else can get stuck with the shaft of neglect - the ugliest and most piercing of all shafts.  The money nor the fame do matter, it is the act of the craft and the feeling a complete work gives a man - it is something no other person can give them, however, without it, there are so many feelings and emotions a man cannot give.  Therefore, a craft, for a man, is paramount in his progression as a human. A craft allows a man to love, it allows a man to fight, it allows a man to build a life. A craft, for a man, sets him free.  Decidedly, for a man, the mastery of a craft takes guts.  Bloody, horrible guts - we all have them, the guts.  Take them, use them - these guts.