At what point did you forget about human beings, and exchange our lives and hearts for chess pieces? What’s the endpoint of a bill’s cycle? What legacy are you leaving for the world? I’m pleading you to ask. Tell me, at the end of the day–will you ever be something greater than your own ego? Have you truly been a force of good in the world?
You may be a ‘public servant.’ You may use rhetoric to justify your innards–but as my dad always tells me, “you can’t lie to yourself.” I want to know how you feel, lying in your bed every night. Given the benefit of the doubt, maybe you count your blessings. You’re blessed with a lot of things. Money, good looks, charisma, power, success, respect….. So that means you’re doing this whole living thing correctly, right? You’ve conquered the world’s struggles and emerge victorious. With the privilege of winning comes notoriety and spotlight, and therein lies influence. You tell yourself you’re one of the good ones. You’ll use your high-stake influence to make the world safer and brighter. The republicans, democrats, tea party, lobbyists, them–they can’t be allowed to gain power. They’re derisive. These people will let the world crumble; it’s your duty to hold office and thwart them. You–a watchdog, a beacon. Ignoring its wormy lineage, you let slip those slimy words: “for the greater good.”
I’m not asking you to be superman. I’m asking you to be honest, just once. You don’t know average Joe. You whizzed past him when you graduated summa cum laude. You don’t know the pungency of anger, fresh after discovering your brother’s death in combat. You don’t know how helpless, me, a nineteen year old girl feels when the the president of the united states will not recognize that the calculated murder of 1.5 million Armenians is genocide. You don’t know reality anymore, nor will you return. You know game theory. Maybe once, these sorrows sharpened you, but that’s all been shrouded. You’re blurry with delusions. Hidden in polar ideals. Bandaged with $20 bills, the ones which still endorse Andrew ‘Trail of Tears’ Jackson.
I’m asking you to think about purpose. Think about Ozymandias, king of kings, known only for being forgotten. Think about why 1.5 million deaths is more than a statistic. Think about the vast sums flowing over your desk and pay attention to the cracks of our roots.
Be something more than a placeholder, please.