It is not radical to say that humans are the virus.
It is not radical to say that people are made of destruction.
It is not radical to say that we are only hunger and want and the delusions of conquerors.
I hear it all the time: the earth would be better off without us.
The air and trees would be grateful for our disappearance.
The universe would be kinder for our suicidal ideation.
If we took out the “stupid.”
If we took out the “problem people.”
If we took out those that disagreed with us.
The young man holds the door open for the older gentlemen and waits patiently for him to enter. The tired nurse gives her seat up on the bus to the pregnant mom. The stranger holds the umbrella over the stranger. And the world goes on.
It is easy to hold on to the hatred of this world, I have faced it all before. It is easy to declare absolutes and not peer into the confusing gray. It is easy to feed your own sorrow with the bones of others and call that progression.
The emergency worker holds the hand of a homeless man. A poor father picks up a full wallet and returns it. A young girl asks the other girl to play, even though the other rarely speaks. And the world goes on.
It is not radical to say that humans are the disease. It is not radical to give up on us. For who else would watch the universe and make it real? Who else would quarantine themselves inside during a plague? Who else would we kiss and hug and dedicate ourselves to?
I do not put “deserve” into my lexicon because I cannot say who deserves the earth or not. But I can say these ideals to kill the vulnerable to green the planet is no form of love. And what else do we have?
We are the only species who builds monuments. We are the only species that binds the wings of broken birds. We are the only species who builds telescopes to watch the night sky. We are the only species that blushes red and communicates in words complexly to try again. And we are here, and we here, it is not time to give up, it is not time to take the easy way and condemn ourselves.
For love, that is the hard thing, for love, that is the radical thing, for love, that is the monument we build each day to each other in the smallest gestures, for love, that is an empty stadium during an epidemic. For love, that is why we continue.
I will not forsake us, for love, for love, for love.
izzy806
jbbartram-illu
titsay
blakekathryn
2087
andulkaphoto
stormborns
