You blame me for entering the home that you invite me in to and that’s wrong.
I am a relative of Death but Death and I are not the same. Just as Cause is the relative of Effect but yet they remain different. So why do you invite me in and treat me with the disdain attributed to Death? It hurts and confuses me.
You invite me, out of the rain, into the clubs and house parties, as you binge drink alcohol. We laugh together as I caress your liver and kidneys while you pass out and seek to do it all again the next day. I thought we were close. I even stayed anonymous while your friends watched our relationship grow, seemingly unawares.
I stood by you and had your back while you defended your right to smoke cigarettes and weed. I held your lungs tight and kissed your throat in support. I waved my fists in rage as you pointed out that Death lurks at every corner anyway and I cursed with you as you reminded those that would have seen us separate, there are so many sins worse than smoking.
While you loaded your body with the fatty proteins from excess meat and processed food from cheap restaurant chains, I thought you were happy for our bond to grow. When you stayed away from eating starches, grains, fruits and vegetables because you couldn’t be bothered to cook, I moved closer to you on the couch because I thought you were compromising in order for our friendship to develop. You know that those fatty proteins form part of my survival. That’s why so many of my friends are here in places like yours. Western culture is so appealing to me. I want so much more than friendship. I want you. Death wants to meet you and you seem happy to meet him. Can’t you see? We ALL benefit.
You surround yourself with my siblings, Anger, Worry, Unforgiveness. Their acidity feeds the proteins I need but when I feed, grow and introduce aquaintances to Death, there is the disdain again!
I don’t understand how there is a System in place that creates people willing to have me introduce them to Death but, when I do, the protest is against me and not the System.
I see ribbons worn by people still smoking, still hating, still eating the food I love and that’s just confusing to me. Can you not see what you are doing?! It hurts!
It hurts that the system creates me, perpetuates me, convinces you to keep me around and then says that you must turn away from me, without offering alternative direction. I feel like a cheap whore, attracted to the love I’m shown but never reaping benefit from those that made me or those that paid me.
Dear Humanity, the half-way house lifestyle hurts. Make a decision.