break the cycle | Solitary Alignment

“A freedom fighter learns the hard way that it is the oppressor who defines the nature of the struggle, and the oppressed is often left no recourse but to use methods that mirror those of the oppressor.” —Nelson Mandela

Silence slices and stings. It wraps its duct-strong stick around the mouth and lips, muffling and muzzling any inconvenient or contrarian ideas, opinions, and beliefs. With little regard for opposing will, the oxygen struggling to free itself from imprisoned lungs is left alone to serve a longer sentence.

But we can all be a voice for the voiceless. We can speak for those downtrodden, hopeless, and timid souls who can’t even muster a whisper in the wind. We can verbalize that pain, giving wings to the words being buried beneath cycles of torment, abuse, and the abject, unrelenting misery that accompanies a lifetime of subjugation.

I choose to speak for the animals. I stand on the frontlines of a movement with the sole intention of shaking people out of their comfort zones by pulling back curtains of lies and misinformation to reveal the nasty truth about exploitation and a profit-obsessed industry happily on its knees, worshiping at the altar of the bottom line.

Sensitive, sentient, and sweet, these objectified innocents are forced to endure unspeakable cruelty in the name of some pathetic excuse to maintain the status quo and “nourish” the nation. They are lost in a haze of immense fear and panic, desperate for a respite, a kind word, or a gentle hand.

Their eyes reflect a sorrow far beyond despair. Aware of their imminent demise, they try to convey the alarming immediacy of their plight with each adrenaline-fueled nystagmus.

But where are the reinforcements? Who has come to rescue them? Will a last-second save stop the inevitable crawl toward termination?

Every frantic emotion spoken without words, clearly communicated, and yet so callously ignored.

This is the life and death of the billions of blameless animals, unfortunate enough to be born and slaughtered in a world that refuses to see them as anything but a commodity or meal.

We have agency. We have a calibrated moral compass. We have a voice.

Use it.

Adolescence Interrupted

The infighting. The discontent. The disrespect. The degradation. The carelessness. The greed. The grab. The garbage. The crooked eye. The cold shoulder. The single finger. The dismissal. The impatience. The blind acceptance. The blind refusal. The blinding inaccuracies. The stranglehold. The manipulation. The lack of empathy. The lack of sympathy. The lack of hope. The accountability. The detachment. The illiteracy. The false expectations. The absence of momentum. The ritual. The routine. The handcuffs. The spinning. The perpetual dance along the edge. The folding cards. The misdirected energy. The zombie impersonation. The indifference. The distance. The dispassion. The vitriol. The venom. The vindictiveness. The spite. The grudge. The resentment. The poison. The hurting. The incessant accumulation of things. The gluttony. The materialism. The ego. The skewed perception of self-importance. The myopism. The fallacy of focus. The shaky grasp. The shaking fear. The indignation. The fury. The rage. The fire. The bitterness. The pettiness. The pervasive sloppiness. The diet. The death. The disease. The prison. The pain. The cages. The theft. The misappropriation. The fraud. The falsehoods. The subjugation. The exploitation. The hedonism. The excess. The waste. The ignorance. The false sense of security. The constant compromise. The deliberate trivialization. The subversion. The animus. The belief that there is never a way out of the maze.

A new year. A new day dawning. Let’s be better.

Adolescence Interrupted

Solitary Alignment

Tag Archives: break the cycle

Silence by Way of Oppression

Target Practice

A collection of reflections from pedaling through life on a bicycle built for one