In my hesitation to write these words after thinking them so strongly for so long.
In my pursuit of comfort over justice.
In my silence.
I am complicit because the crimes continue, and I do nothing to stop them.
The drone strikes. The molestation. The imprisonment. The murder, the torture. The lies and cover ups.
The rape of our children’s planet. The rape of so many parents’ children.
I see black men harrassed and killed by cops, and I worry whether my outrage will look bad on my Twitter feed.
The countless genocides of unique non-human species, and I avoid eating chicken.
I masturbate. I chew my knuckles. I pound sugar. But I do not beg and plead with humanity.
I don’t send letters to the powerful. My complicity takes comofort in thinking negatively about the future. I’d rather wallow they’ll never pay attention than give up those ten minutes of scrolling up and down Netflix.
I lament a system and its cronies that let money be holier than blood, and I am obsessed with my net worth.
I don’t convince my neighbors to replace our single family houses with a skyscraper. I still drive my gas car.
I listen to music that pays its creators near-nothing. I read only until the pay wall.
I imagine if one day I could be strong and question why we use the word “terrorist” rather than patriots who died for their cherished beliefs. But I’m too afraid of being called a terrorist to stand up for one.
I don’t think too hard about how come my values all benefit me.
I’m sympathetic with the downtrodden until there’s any chance I’d be like them. Then I make shit happen.
I give $20 to someone on the street, but fuck no I’m not giving up any Tesla stock.
I pray when it feels good. I praise God mainly when I want something.
I ignore cancer and heart disease.
I support colonizing Mars.
I get confused. I let my thinking stay sloppy.
I shut the fuck up. I don’t scream Fuck The Police and Fuck The Military.
All I want to do is convince you not to torture me. Please don’t take my comfort away. I’m begging you.
So like a pampered brat, I mind control you. I convince you what a great guy I am. My whole life is a project to persuade you to let me be and let me have my rights without thinking too hard whether you actually, really have yours.
I judge you. I shred your character.
And then I convince myself I love you so that it’s not so much bullshit when I tell it to you.
I am complicit in all the evil that it is to be me and be so okay with all my externalities.
I am complicit. And I apologize.