It's 11:13 on a Tuesday night and I can't get comfortable on this couch (although it's plush and I'm soft) because I keep hearing the question - why do we keep doing this?
Maybe you're wondering what I mean. Maybe you know.
We change our Instagram profile picture in solidarity.
Our Tumblr picture in solidarity.
You catch my drift?
Still these people are dead, still we have the question ringing through our heads why do we keep doing this why do we keep doing this except some of us try to fight the sting of it by asking why do they keep doing this as though there ever was a they, as though we were ever anything but us.
Us, not even you humans, us, life. Us, breathing.
Us, the pulsing and the expanding and the rocked with anguish for that which is beloved. Water, air, food, drink, love, hope, touch, abstraction abstraction abstraction, and then the face you dream, eyes filling with emotion - there, that is all of us - there, that, your most loved, that is all of us.
Numbers, numb - it seems to me no small coincidence the words so neatly twin.
Oh, it was them, those machine-interlopers, not mine-made-of-my-flesh-my-heart, so let them die!
Imagine a suffering so intense all you can think of is spreading it.
This is how so many of us feel. Every day. To deny this is to lie and also to make ourselves less safe. Instead, we must face the inherent inequities of our world, and more than that, we must do something about it. We can't just sit at our computer, watching Jenna Marbles (who I love, btw, even though she has never yet mentioned Wuthering Heights), and ask ourselves wonderingly why do they keep doing this.
It is why I change the channel when a Human Society commercial comes on.
And yes, it's easier to not face it, but only easier in that moment we turn away.
Why do we keep doing this?
Because we believe there to be a they.