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Birth Ritual

By Erwin Jaeger

I never really understood what they wanted us to see. I mean, we stood there just watching them in their ventilated Plexiglas cages, sucking their thumbs, crying, sleeping. The teacher was expounding on about the greatness of existence, the wonder of life, the precious existence of it all.

All I could see were tragedies waiting to happen. I looked at them; would-be-killers, drug addicts, drive by statistics. All I could do was think of the waste. Casualties of birth. They were already dead and their parents didn't even know it. New additions to the population overload disaster. "They are the future so innocent and pure"

She was wrong. I giggled. Started to snicker. Ended up screaming with laughter. I couldn't help myself. It was so pathetic. What a waste of good sex. Parents with great plans for their future scientists, doctors, and lawyers. They were blinded to the facts.

By age twenty, six of them would be dead. Three would be placed in sanitariums/detention cells, and the rest would be bleeding both the system and themselves of all potential and sanity. Smoking poisons by age six, having sexual encounters by age twelve, destroying their mental capacities by age fifteen. "Treat them well. Give then a creative environment, a good home."

My ass! Ninety two percent of children living with parents form minor neurosis by age seven. Those in foster homes , those living with persons other then their biological parents form psychosis as early as age two. Whacked out losers destined to fail. Sheltered lives leading to dampened expressionism, experience and personal views. Censored to death only to be thrown to an outside world where every breath one takes shortens life. Filled with moral values and lessons of life that do not work. Where all sensory perception is a lie. Where purity is no longer used to describe moral values but instead to denote the quality of one's illusion.

Parents who claim to keep them from danger, yet they blind their children of reality. Only to drop them into a pit of living nightmares (the outside world). Those who were lucky enough to survive receive advice and moral guidance equivalent to that of a blind deaf, mute. Then to be pushed back into the worldly pit of horrors to succeed.

The parents are to blame. They have children to cover their mistakes. A sort of penance. They ignore the horrors of their past and present, Painting the walls of their miserable existence with a thick gloss of bullshit. They block out the horror of existence and act as if they had just stepped out of Eden. Parents ready to bring about a new age of prosperity onto the world. They cover their scars in perfume and ignore the God they hope to please. Setting their children into a rough cut world of sin, where existence alone damns them to the eternity of Hell.

Parents who constantly hail the sanctity of human existence , who claim that to kill is the worst sin of all. Yet by their actions they are guilty of it and worse. They are guilty of the conception of a sadistic painfully slow death. They have brought into existence a life to be tortured slowly. To be prodded and paraded like a trophy head of beauty, A being to be force-fed bile and idiot logic. They soften then damage the flesh with burning hot coals of insanity into the child's very soul. They then rip open flesh and cover the pink nerves with the sweet smelling poison of advise and belief. The parents are the true sadists who are guilty of the very crime they despise... Murder

The class ended and we made our way back to school. I strayed from the others in the group, lit a cigarette and stared into the darkness of the night. "Face the truth no matter how painful. No matter how nauseating, it burns you, and fills you with anger and frustration" I exhaled the last of the cigarette and watched the dying embers bur itself out.

"Anything is better then a lie..."


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