Sunday, July 15, 2012

I do a lot of reading. This a recent thing, like maybe the past year or two. I used to read maybe 3-4 books a year. Thats about how many i read a week now. sure, I start books and never finish, them as many people do, either because of work or i lose interest or simply forget. Until tonight there was only one book i couldn't finish because it deeply, deeply disturbed me. The book was, "Johnny got his gun". I started it because i love history and war movies and all that shit. Let me describe to you why i could not finish this book. He gets wounded in the war. He is bandaged up all over, stuck in a bed. Somethings wrong with his ears, he can't hear. Something is wrong with his eyes, he can't see. And worst of all, something is wrong with his voice, he cannot speak. He is lying in a bed completly and utterly imobolized, unable to scream or hear or anything. At one point a rat climbs into his hospital bed and begins to chew on him, he can't move to stop it. He can't scream to tell someone its happening. He just has to lay there. Maybe the writing was so great but i actually felt it. I was reading and i couldn't sit still. I felt like i was having a panic attack, my breathing sped up, i felt physically ill, restricted. I threw the book down and actually went for a run. Yes, a run, i do not run. But i had to, i literally felt as if i couldn't move, i couldn't breathe...i think i may have even screamed into my pillow just be sure i had a voice. I never picked up the book again, it affected me that much.

Tonight after finishing Valley of the dolls (a good book) i started "The jungle" by Upton sinclair. I downloaded a ton of free classics on my kindle determined to read them. I started the book, kind of boring and then they get to Chicagos meat packing district. They take a tour of the butchery, for fun i might add, and in great detail describe how they killed the animals, mercilessly and in great numbers. Holy. Fucking. Shit. I am sick to my stomach right now. I am considering running to the bathroom to throw up the shake and bake chicken dinner i ate tonight. I can literally still feel it in my stomach. I love animals, i really do and have often said that i don't know how i am not a vegetarian, mostly because it's a huge inconvinence...but as i sit here tonight...i'm thinking about what i'm going to eat tomorrow and as of now it's just peanut butter and jelly. See...this is why i never watch those peeta videos. Goddamnit, i am over thinking everything. I am an athiest, i do not believe in a heaven or a hell and even if i did, they don't believe in animals going to heaven. SO what, these creatures are put on earth for us to harvest and eat? And if so...then why do they have to feel pain and emotions? I'm overanalyzing...this is going to be a long night...

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