It has been eighteen days since my souls have touched the pavement. Fifteen days since he has gone outside our home. Three hours since he’s touched cold steel with an unknown history. Each timeline brings its own level of fear. Each hour that passes brings me closer to death.
Though that is the case every day, it rings truer with the whisper of mortality at the tip of our tongues. This virus rages on, promising to kill an innumerable amount. I can only hope not to be included on such an exclusive guest list.
I do not fear death. I’ve been close to it many times. What I fear is losing. I have survived a series of battles raging on in the war that has been my life. I’ve faced betrayal at the hands of those closest to me. I’ve been cast out by my own blood. Pushed aside by those who could not separate their own feelings from reality. And still, I walk away with life.
My body and mind have been riddled with disease. I’ve never been promised an easy life, in this lifetime or any that have come before. My soul is tired, weak and full of desperation. But somehow I have always continued.
This virus proves different. It is an enemy I do not know my chances against. I cannot use logic or philosophy to fight this battle, especially when the ones controlling the fight do not know sound judgement. We face our mortality on a much grander scale as the collective fears fuel the fire.
All the while, weak, power hungry men ask the universe to make good on its promises. They cash out their investments, holding material belongings as all that’s valuable. And yet I know they do not face the same fear that I do. That many others like me do.
Their fear is something different. It’s one that follows them everywhere they go and it will continue to follow them long after this virus has moved on. They too fear their mortality. And yet, they choose to elevate themselves by suffocating the remaining life around them as if the darkness they created helps their light shine brighter.
I envy men like this sometimes. The equation they have created for themselves, albeit an illusion, is so much simpler than what life has revealed to me. Their souls are young even when their bodies are old. Their motivation is juvenile and selfish, like a child stealing on a playground.
My soul craves a revolution. One that completely restores the balance that could have been. A world where children of all speak the Indigenous languages of their land. Where equality is not a dream, but a celebrated victory. A world where the childish minds that lead now are all but a chapter in our textbooks. This reality may not exist in my lifetime, but it is the hope I hold on to. It is the reason for not giving up.
This virus is no war. It is the messenger delivering us the news that we will not survive if we continue as we are. No life will go on forever, not mine, not humanity. But we should not let the unregulated power of the few cut our fates so short.
We are stronger together. Our differences mean nothing. Do you see the flora bicker over which one reigns supreme? We are driven by fear and have been for several millennia. Afraid that someone might find our weakness and exploit it against us, so we choose to act first and do the same. The fact is, we are all weak. Every single one of us. Those in power right now fight to keep their weaknesses hidden. They profit off of our vulnerabilities and promote total exploitation of anyone who threatens their way of life.
Control is the enemy. Anyone who seeks to regulate fear with their control is the enemy. We all have fears, but it is community and truth that provide true refuge. That is why they separate us, feed us lies, and weave a tenuous web to entrap us.
We are not prey. We are equals. It is time we awaken our fears and use that strength to find our purpose as both individuals and the collective. Human suffering is a choice by the many until revolution replaces it. What will you choose?