The Flesh We Share: An Unspoken Sin

The Flesh We Share: An Unspoken Sin

Night falls heavy these days, the kind of heavy that presses against your chest and makes your heart ache just a little more with each breath. It's in those moments of solitude, when the world is hushed and the whispers of forgotten truths creep back into the forefront of my mind, that I find myself grappling with an unsettling question. What have we become? How did we lose our way so profoundly?

Long gone are the days when our ancestors roamed the earth, raw and connected, in ways we can barely comprehend now. Picture them; skin thickened by the caress of the elements, eyes sharp with survival, and hearts beating in rhythm with the untamed world around them. They were the inception, the blueprint, untouched by the filth we've wrapped ourselves in. Their diet, a primal dance of necessity and nature—non-chemical meats, berries, and nuts, all foraged from a land unscarred.

Pause for a moment. Let your mind drift back to those days. The hunt for deer and buffalo, the thrill of capturing birds, the satisfaction of a forest filled with the treasures of fruits and nuts. Every single bite they took held within it the essence of life—a reunion of flesh, nurtured by untouched soil rich in Omega III's, trace minerals, vitamins, enzymes—the sacred alchemy of health and vitality.

And here we are. Floundering in our illusion of progress. You read articles, hear whispers of health gurus chanting the praises of chicken and soy, swearing on their misguided lives that this is the way forward. But I've walked their path, the one laden with lies and airbrushed truths. Let me break it to you, raw and unfiltered: They're wrong. So heartbreakingly wrong.

The land lies in ruins now, polluted under the weight of our greed. Think about it. Grain-fed chemical beef, drenched in a cocktail of growth hormones and antibiotics, born from a lineage of misery. Chemical chicken, bred in a nightmare of cracked beaks and broken spirits. Freshwater fish swimming in veins of poison, toxic seafood pulled from oceans gasping under humanity's chokehold. And all those fruits and vegetables you dearly cling to? Stripped bare of the trace minerals that once made them the elixirs of life, engineered into grotesque parodies of what they once were.

We marvel at our creations—genetically engineered grains, kissed by the lips of death with toxic fertilizers, herbicides, pesticides and fungicides. What do they sing to us now? Lies upon lies. Whispers of health wrapped in a shroud of slow, omnipresent decay.

Really, take a second and let that sink in. We are what we eat. Our ancestors knew this; their bones crafted by the wild, free and untainted by civilization's dark touch. They lived and breathed in a world where the land was alive, where grasses and plants lived and died in an eternal resurrection, nurturing the soil that birthed them. This was the cycle, the sacred circle of health—soil to plant, plant to animal, animal to human.

And yet, we traded that sacred dance for convenience. We've told ourselves over and over that chicken is healthier than beef. But let the curtain fall away. See the truth. Ponder the abominable diets these animals endure before they grace our grocery shelves. An existence forged in filth and fear, intestines rotting from within before ending up neatly packaged for our consumption. Yeah, we devour the misery, the pain, the darkness.

In my next newsletter, I'll strip more layers away from this festering wound. We'll delve deep, see what the cows and chickens go through before you bring them home for supper. It won't be appetizing, not in the slightest.

So here I am, tossing and turning in the dead of night, sharing a truth that's as bitter as it is necessary. I write this not as some high and mighty preacher, but as someone just as lost, just as hungry for a sliver of redemption. It's a call to arms, a plea to return to what we once knew.

Let's journey back to that primal knowledge, rediscover the sacred rites of our ancestors. It's there, in the fragmented pieces of our forgotten past, that we might find a glimmer of hope, a path leading us back to health—not just of the body, but of the soul. The world may seem too far gone, a poisoned wasteland, but buried deep within its heart lies an ancient truth, waiting for us to uncover it.

So, here's to the struggle, the battle against the tide. Because in every raw truth, in every gritty revelation, there lies the potential for redemption. And isn't that what we're all truly seeking?