The Cruelty of Starbucks Makes Me Weep

This is a scene that made me weep.

With my own eyes, I witnessed a homeless person who spent the night camped outside a heartless Starbucks. The cruel irony made me ponder: Of all places, this poor person just happened to collapse in front of a poisoned tentacle of this oppressive capitalist outpost of cruelty and deceit.

I looked and I wept.

And I cried. And I wailed, I bawled, I yelped, and I screamed in anguish at the injustice at the sight of sidewalk starvation next to elitist gluttony. Why must this be? Why is Starbucks permitted to do this? What can we do, as a society and as a community, to remedy this?

And why was this done to me?

Do I not have the right to live in a just world where all is equal? Do I not have the right to exist in a metabioenvironment where riches are channeled to those who deserve them? Why have I been destined to live amongst such cruelty and deprivation? Why was I selected to rescue the unfortunates among us?

The weight of the world is indeed a difficult burden for me to bear, but bear it I must -- regardless of my own personal suffering. The plight of the vulnerable is my mission, and my activism is their only chance. The people, the poor people, they do not have the ability to look after themselves, and so I am their voice. True, mine is a lonely voice, but it is a profound voice. And by mustering up all the indignity inside of me, it is a loud and effective voice.

And so, I stood at that corner and screamed. I screamed at the passersby who did not take this homeless person into their arms and nurture her. "FOR SHAME!" I reprimanded each of these callous pigs as they thoughtlessly ignored this womyn of dignity. I took a stance with the most intimidating white stuffed-shirts: "DO SOMETHING TO HELP THIS HOMELESS PERSON INSTEAD OF BEING A CAPITALIST PARASITE ON SOCIETY!" I screeched at the top of my tired lungs, "IS IT ONLY I WHO FEELS FOR OTHERS? IS IT ONLY I THAT SEES THE CRUELTY OF OTHERS? IS IT ONLY I WHO HEARS THE CRIES FOR HELP?"

And do you know what happened? Nothing. No one took in the homeless womyn. No one smashed the window of Starbucks as a metaphor for smashing global capitalism. No one gave a shit.

All of which proved, again, that society has two victims:

1) The poor, the homeless, the physically challenged, the People of Color, the transgendered, the honest, the caring, the socialists, and all others who are routinely cast aside to the absorb the punishment of uncaring capitalism, and

2) Me.

My struggle for the day was complete. I looked at the homeless womyn, and wept. I recognized that, other than myself, few people can give a voice to the unfortunate. I quietly thanked the homeless womyn for her resistance to societal genocide, and somberly walked to the bus stop.