PLEASE HELP ME SPREAD THIS! This is the letter I wrote, and spoke about in my petition. Like it, share it, print it out or read it to others. Make copies and hand them out at every college campus! I cant keep this on my desktop any longer... To Whom it May Concern, I am human. I am one. One body, one mind, one soul. Some would say that one human is incapable and powerless; insignificant. However, one inevitably gives way to many. One is the start; the cliché stones throw into the sea that causes alterations in placid, and this stone will eventually become two, and then three, until the entire mountainside collapses under the pressure of the truth. This truth I know and this thing I have done. I have witnessed the power of the one and it is an immovable object, an unstoppable force; the hard iron of the soul of hope that refuses to quiet; refuses to acquiesce. Even a single drop of discord can radiate far out into the deep and disrupt the calm that has slumbered there for too long. This I have done. This I have seen for myself. And this power I endeavor to summon once more. I have reached outwards into the stagnant and I have sent things out in ripples, only to conjure an echo upon myself, the likes of which would make kings of men tremble to behold, and I am only one. I am a single body of blood amidst a growing sea of billions. I am a microscopic, organic, fleshy spore converting the air, the light, the sky, the Earth, stuck upon a mote of dust in the spiraling arm of some older creature from another story. But if I can know this, if I can attain these simple truths, just me; just one... I wonder who else can know them, too. With every pebble thrown, waves come back in threes, and there are sharks in the shallows indeed. I feel an echo reverberating around me, the voice of a million other stone-throwers that I have never known in this gaseous soup that we call home. My home, your home, everybodys home. How do you behave at home? Do you disrespect your mother and belittle the accomplishments of your father? Do you hurt your siblings and insult your neighbors? Do you dig holes in the yard and leave them as empty sores, evidence of your own inescapable pain that can only be quieted when others feel the same? I am only one, and I gape in awe at the power of many; the many that grow gardens in their hearts, weaving webs of flowers across the land, and the not-so-many who sit about, drenched in the blood untouched, who know what I know, but do not SEE. What I feel makes me human, what returns to me gives me soul, and those that throw meteors into the deep and are unmoved by the tsunamis of blood they receive in return, they do not feel. They have no soul. They are not human. This is my falling star, the spacerock that descends before the impending comet, and I cast it willfully at your crystalline palace. America the Corporate, how you wave at me dismissively with hands of gray, busy counting other peoples pocket change while ignoring all the important things that your beloved people say. Teach the children to love their motherland and defend her until her children die by the handful, but never tell them all the terrible things she has done unto others and ourselves, like a beaten thing, always looking upon the past with fond eyes covered in wool. Pick and choose which glorified facts are spoken and taught like rhetoric, while brushing all other evident truths beneath a carpet of distractions and false needs. I am told to appreciate my privilege to speak to the world when I see fit, and THIS IS WHAT I MUST SHOUT, BEFORE IT IS NO LONGER BEING SAID: How long before the rights of man are stripped as effortlessly as the shirts upon our backs, whether it is ripped from our fighting breasts or carefully unbuttoned by our own fearful hands? How long before America’s children are told that the truth is irrelevant, and that their opinions are null and void, and that the size of our pockets matter more than the sum of our deeds? We cling to pieces of paper with scribbles of stamp and ink as if these shields will protect us from bullet and brimstone. Those that safeguard our fragile pages of parchment are armed with microscopes able to find even the smallest of spaces between the words, and suck up our short-lived liberty, clause by clause. What happens when those we put in charge of our paper defenses are the same men who seek to burn them all away, with ink to keep us quiet and fire to ensure it? How fine is my right as a woman to speak my mind when my enslavement, my inevitable death, is more profitable to those who would seek to silence me? When Frances Lords and Ladies were trampled by those they sought to walk upon, the tide did not turn by the vote of any one man from his post, nor did the corruption cease when these positions were taken up by others deemed worthy. This resurgence of the human condition is immortalized in our history by its madness; the people erected gallows and guillotines, and prepared themselves to exact a toll greater or equal to what injustices had been imposed on them. They had had enough. Something must give in this mad, police state Big Brother has handed down to us, or there could be blood. I am only one, and I cannot know whose blood we could see, but it would be a sad day nonetheless, and we would all know that greed and fear is what caused those with the power to prevent it to close their eyes and pull the rope. I may never know if these words permeate the crushing blows of your indifference. Language is such an impotent tool for battling a lack of empathy; often times it is action that drives the earth into the sea. And perhaps it is not your indifference that that I seek to supplant. I give you this moment. I give you the now. I proudly expose my human emotions for you to observe, if only for the present. So mote it be, I seed doubt in the empty chambers of your chest. Boldly I crack open a book to my brain and let you pick it page by page, lest you discover a head lacking demons, armed with a sword of truth; a shining edged mirror to reflect your own inhumanity. I know your secret and I know your shame. I am one, but I am loved by many. By my words of fire and iron, I take up the maryr’s curse and call you out! I give you warning of what candleflame can bring. The brighter the fire, the longer and darker the shadows that rise alongside it. With my unwavering resolve and by all the language I know, I will seek to destroy you without ever brandishing anything but the ink of my pen and the light of my soul. I expose you for the inhuman force you truly are, I give you this moment to see what humanity truly is, how humans truly see and feel. So later, when these truths fly in one ear and out the other, and dollar signs fill their place instead, you will know what you have done. You will finally know the one thing that money cannot buy you; the one thing that your source of unlimited power cannot provide. I gladly hand over the eternal embers of my heart upon the plate of jagged diamonds that is my soul. I am here and I am waiting. Try and destroy what you cannot touch. SINCERELY, Meghan Elizabeth Murphy.
Posted on: Thu, 03 Apr 2014 22:46:11 +0000
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