Planting plastic trees

Money and convenience have taken over even the most conscious of individuals. You can’t fight for the earth while driving your gas car, with plastic parts, drinking your iced coffee that’s been transported in large trucks and ships to be served in plastic cups. But you bought a hemp shirt to wear at the protest that was shipped in a large container ship, that was further dispersed by large trucks to Walmart’s around the continent.

Real change requires real effort. True results comes from true sacrifice. However, we live in a hypocritical world. We expect to change the world without changing our convenience. It’s hard to realize how dependent everyone has become on things that are truly destroying the planet.

Plastic bible and polyester suits spread the word to tell you to reproduce. Too many people to live in harmony with each other, let alone the planet. Unless you grow your own plants to make your own good and clothes, you are reliant on petroleum. Unless you walk everywhere barefoot or with shoes made from material you hunted or grew, you are reliant on oil. Unless you’re living in the woods owning nothing and living solely off the land with tools you harvested and created from the land, you are a polluter.

I accept this about myself. I can try to make changes, but unless I become a homeless person who goes only with harvested material I took from local land, I’m still a part of the problem. This makes me feel ashamed, but not ashamed enough to walk naked, away from everything. So why do I expect anything to realistically change to heal the earth? I don’t. Everyone thinks that they can recycle their kombucha bottles and newspapers and fix the world, but at best it’s a bandaid on a severed head. It’s beyond fixing. The only fix is the sudden return to all local, all natural, way of life after 75-80% of the population disappear.

This is not me saying we stop trying to change. This is not me suggesting total annihilation of the human race. This is me saying we have to do better now. Not tomorrow. Not next week. Now.

The earth cries and I feel her pain. I feel it every time I see a bird picking up fast food scraps out of the trash on the side of the road, or drinking water out of a puddle filled with oily toxic crap. Hell I feel it every time I throw out my expired batteries and milk jugs.

I have to do better.

Published by Snowy Owl

There was a lot more written here before. Then I saw it was irrelevant. I am just another person with an autoimmune disease and spectrum ”disorder” who is highly sensitive to their environment. I thought I would write a few things down, so here you go. Swim at your own risk!

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