You hopeless little hypocrite. You pestilent propagandist preaching behind the wheel of a self-driving car built off the back of a baneful billionaire. Put your money where your mouth is. Put your morals where your clout is. You loquacious little leftist, shouting into the void just to hear your own voice. Running a race you never signed up for, startled by the starter pistol blast. This is too fast. You’re in last, with popcorn lungs and asthmatic gasps, choking on the remembrance of some irretrievable past.
Scheming up socialist speakeasies from the safety of your million dollar slum. Commie mommy. Hush mom, take some hush money. Make it stop, try a tot-drop. Join an MLM, make a new friend, be a boss bitch, learn to hustle, turn that mommy tummy into muscle. Drink some vino, try to lie low. Bake some bread, you ain’t winning it. You false feminist, stay-at-home parent, popping off about the patriarchy. Look in the mirror, do you see what I see? Blasting off about unattainable beauty. Sure thing, cutie. Wear that dress, look your best. Let it go. Watch a murder show. A whodunit. Who did? I’m sure you know.
Equality for all? Woke white woman walking, as if you care when you spend $300 on your hair. Anticapitalist is it? Wearing designer clothes stitched by kids in some sweatshop in a third world country you’ll never visit. You performative Pollyanna. Teach your kids we should love the poor, yet hold them closer when a vagrant begs at the door outside of the store. Avert your gaze and toss some coins into his hat, and that is that. Give yourself a pat on the back.
Endorse gentle parenting until it’s too tough and you’ve had enough. Stay up until 3am thinking of them and the damage you’ve done. Run a list of every tangled web you’ve ever spun. Every razor-tongued word ever spoken, every window you’ve ever broken. Every lie you’ve ever told, every piece of yourself you’ve ever sold.
And then remember that you exist within the confines of a system designed to keep us in slumber. You’re awake, but outnumbered. You’ve gone too far, but you’re not the one driving the car.
You learn to hold gratitude for those brief moments of clarity when you show signs of life.