If I were to take rat poison, the walls of my blood vessels would break down. Blood would leak into my brain, into my organs. I would bleed to death internally, possibly over a day or three. I might carry on for a while, struggling to get around, feeling worse and worse. Eventually, I would find a place to lie, and I would die. In pain, in fear, alone.
And there would be articles in the newspaper. People would make tributes and talk about how it was Such a Shame, and she was such a Nice Girl (not a Popular Girl – never that) and other such ridiculous platitudes.
For I am an oxygen stealer. I steal your resources, I steal the Earth’s resources. I carry and spread disease. During the course of my life, I’ve been personally responsible for infecting many people and upsetting many more. I am but one of billions. I am vermin.
So why don’t you poison me? Or, to use that word that makes it sound as though you’re doing something pedestrian and harmless; why don’t you cull me? Why would people pretend it was a tragedy if I slowly bled to death; ensuring I had no further potential to cause harm, or to eat the food and use the resources you believe you are more entitled to than I?
This Earth is not ours. We evolved here alongside all other wondrous life. Everything has as much right to life as everything else. It is not here to be our slave, to be made into frivolous adornments or fancy furniture, to be killed at our whim for being in our way or for daring to share the space we believe to be ours. Human life is not worth more than the lives of other living things. It may be worth far less; considering the harm it does and the destruction it wreaks – on such vast scale.
I serve no purpose. I have no value. I consume. I pollute. I infect. I destroy. I am pestilence. I am death.
I am small and helpless. I am powerless against you. I mean nothing to you. I insult you by being alive.
If you must poison those that are in your way, start with me.