They didnāt realize what was happening right before them and yet it still did. They didnāt notice until it was too late; too late for change, too late for their freedom.
Many thought life was getting better, they ignored what resulted from their boisterous opinions. They ignored the people disappearing, people losing their homes, people losing their livelihoods, people became a statistic on the streets, a cry from something that doesnāt affect you.
Soon everyone became a statistic.
Homes bought from under them, jobs stolen by objects, family and friends sent away for expressing their fear, for being themselves.
Soon the common citizen didnāt exist.
Soon only the wealthy, the other side, the beautiful, the pigs of the world were all that was left.
Life was just perfect for them now that they donāt have to deal with common peasants and lowly workers. Parties every day, lunch with the president tomorrow, and world domination scheduled for next week.
When the pigs of the world want more they get more and oh did they get the most.
Our nation turned to a catalog of picture perfect lives. Our nation turned to one class: the pigs. Democracy turned to monarchy turned to Oligarchy.
New Nation Goal: More Blood.
The pigs guzzled themselves on others lifelines. Oh what is 6 gallons when itās for your new yacht? Your new island? Your new world?
What is 6 gallons, 10, 30, 100 for your happiness?
Your happiness that causes millions to lose everything?
How old were you when you watched the single mother at your local convenience store bleed herself dry to feed her children?
At what point did you see your local billionaire murder your children for his new shirt?
When did you realize that this isnāt right?
That normal isnāt normal?
Well we did pretty fast but no one listened did they? Protests donāt matter when you donāt matter. Boycotts, sit-ins, marches become useless when you are useless.
Those on streets, camps, blood houses soon realized that they were hungry. The remote farms werenāt allowed for statistics.
All that there was room for in our country was more. More restaurants, mansions, man-made lakes, designer stores, and pleasure houses. The farms and businesses that once made the country thrive were all destroyed and turned into a pig pen playground. All necessities moved to remote sites in the ocean.
People were thrown into desperation and often sold themselves to a pig for protection until they were needed; which was often very soon.
Many hid in cave systems or forgotten mansions that were abandoned once the thrill of something new wore off.
Nobody had a home, nobody had a dream. Everybody was hungry. Everybody was thirsty.
It started small as most uprisings do. One person desperate not to bleed out jumped at their pig and bit into him.
And drank him down, drank him until he was dry, until he was nothing more than a juice box. This one person was still hungry, so they ate him up. Ate him all up until he was nothing but a good meal.
Ha. They ate him up and drank him down. What a wonderful meal the pig became. The pig who grew too big to resist temptation. No longer the prized piece of gold but an afterthought of something mildly pleasing.
Word spread slowly but viciously. They could eat the pigs.
One pig down, two, ten, thirty, one hundred, one thousand, one million, one billion, two, ten, thirty, one hundredā¦
And yet they were still hungry
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