The Trimming

They are trying to kill us; that’s her philosophy, and it’s hard to argue her. She says it makes sense that they would – they’re in control, and fewer people means more resources. Survival of the fittest, a population reduction, a pruning. A telling tale of humanity – she admits her appreciation of it is chipped away daily.

She tells us if people want to survive, they need to be wealthy and not get sick. They need to be wealthy in the sense that they actually have money, and not just debt. But, she says debt is needed, too. The super-rich owe people money. They’re leveraged, they have connections, and they can take risks. It all sounds very confusing to us.

She talks about the class system in place, a forced stratification, its levels impassable. She tells us she’s been sold the dream of moving up in this class system, but that it was just a sales pitch, and that she went broke after she went for it. She says she’s just an average person trying not to get squashed every day, wanting to stay in existence in a way that makes her happy. Or, happy enough.

She’s made decisions around the rules they have set that keep her within the guardrails. To play the game successfully, she needs to keep up with the rules when they change. She instructs us to stay out of the fringe – the people in the fringe die. Today there are many people in the fringe. Like a premonition, she feels a trimming coming. The weak will not make it. They will be sacrificed; the strong will flex their muscles and drive them out. Squash them with the rules of the game that they control. The strong are creative, and they are ruthless.

She says the trick is to live small if you aren’t wealthy. She knows we must be familiar with the knowledge that at any time we could fall into the fringe. She tells us to do what we can to move closer to the middle. She says we must play our part, because if we do not, they will sniff us out. They will find us and the people we love. They will take it all away if we do not serve them. She says they are in control, and they make the rules.

A requirement is to be quiet and stand firm. We must steel our minds, resisting the urges to buy into the madness and stay true to what we know to be true, without the wool pulled over our eyes. Without our head in the sand. She knows that if we ask for help, none will come. The weak are eaten alive, and if you know this, you live longer, she believes. She tells us breath is wasted on cries. No one is listening, and even those with good intentions do not come. She reminds us that they are trying to survive, and turning back for the weak means they may not make it. This, too, makes sense.

If they go too far with the trimming, what will happen then, she wonders aloud. Like cutting a finger nail too short, will they be in pain? Would they bleed without us? Do we really all have a purpose to serve them, and if so, does that make life meaningful? Her mind searches for hope, a silver lining.

She asks us to think: By trying to stay alive, are we sacrificing the other versions of ourselves, spread across the land?

She makes us ask ourselves: By simply participating in the system, do we participate in the trimming?

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