I wasn't born like this. For eighteen years I feasted on corpses. I promise I was raised with compassion, but with my hands I ripped flesh from bone and forced into my maw skin and sinews; I ate menstruation and swallowed lactation. Grease and fat dripped from my chin. I swear my barbarity wasn't even human. Seven billion of us… yet two billion of them are tortured and killed every week just to keep us fed, yet four Earths can’t support a Western diet. The amount of grain to produce meat is enough to make me sick. Starvation could be cured; every steak is to the third world a slap to the face. And if flesh can be sold then oppression is justified because the elite can put a price tag on the value of life. If you show no compassion expect none in return. With such horror in the world, how do you sleep at night? How do I sleep at night? Seared in vats of boiling oil. Ground up alive because they’re male. No anesthetic; slit the throat of an animal that never saw the light outside.
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