Magnify It, Beautify Hostility

Journal entry sor ofthing. Just thoughts I had to gather.

           Count apples. 1, 2, 3… oh god, there’s the bloody man again, ripping out the throat. And I see the cow in pain, whimpering silently, as he cannot scream for his throat is gone. It’s in the hand of that man in all-white, now spluttered red. I see the cow stagger into the wall. And I feel his pain; tell him I won’t make him feel it any more. I make a silent vow to never contribute to his wretched, desolate fate for an end. I see his pain.

            When the ant sees his prey, spots him on the damp branch far into the tree, he makes a signal to his mates. The food has been short these few days. The ants haven’t eaten for long. Food is there for him, inching across the branch in a gentle, slimy heap of tranquility. The ants grab hold of the silent slug as he squirms in his slimy skin, tries to get away. But he cannot. He is being eaten, bitten, and devoured by the hungry ants. With his slimy secretion, he wriggles the small bit that he can. But the ants have jaws most powerful. So he impedes. He cannot get from the hold of the many, many ants that line and cover his dying body. But would it not be for him, the ants would die off, drop from the darling forest that all of the animals call home.

            When the furry, beloved lion is presented with a chance to kill, he takes it; he takes it in many crushing bites that kill. We look at him with desire; his beautiful stripes and stunning coat of fur. Posters of the beautiful animal hang on many walls of small girls. A lion cub, after all, is most adorable. So can you call it cruel when he strikes the lenient zebra that we all find so delightful, so cute as he gallops through the plains? Can we call that cruel? The zebra is so beautiful, so pleasant and calm with tranquil beauty. Yet the lion is just as lovely. Many wish to hug the burly creature. We watch through the television at the mother lion that licks her fluffy cubs that meow and paw at one another. So when we see that same mother kill the zebra for her babies… do we find that cruel? Or do we flick off the television, say Eck?

            The way the ants must kill for survival, we all do the same. And when I saw that cow’s blood splatter, I didn’t merely look away. I watched. Oh, how I watched. I felt his pain. I know how the lion kills the zebra to feed her cubs. I know how the ants in the forest find the lonesome slug and make him theirs. I know that the slug dies by the small bits of flesh that peel from him into the ants. And I know that the zebra’s fur is ripped by playful cubs and the mother that took care and fed them. The zebra feels pain. When the cow dies horridly as blades and machines tear him to shreds, keeping him a hostage first; just as the slug dies from sharp, massacring jaws of ants as they hold him prisoner on the branch in the morning sun. The slug feels the pain. The zebra feels the pain. And so, the only thing I am sure I feel bad for is of the cruelty of humans to have taken over everything. They do not have to feel the pain of death or fear being hunted by another greater creature beside their own human kind. We do not have to thrive on nature, as we did so long ago.

Maybe that’s all I want.          

           

Author's Note

It'd be great if someone reviewed. (Terribly gret, if you will.)

Reviews

[Rosalie]

Aw, things sound so hostile here.

[Kat]

Stop making me feel so incredibly guilty. Its good though; it is the truth. Just one thing is.... you talk about the tiger and the zebra. Tigers don't hunt zebras, this is because they do not live in Africa where zebras live. Also in the next paragraph you say "lion" instead of "tiger"
Just wanted to tell you.:) Oh and you put it two times....