Under the lid there is a full can of worms
“I love my country!”
What do you call your country?
What do you know about your country?
Your town?
Your block, your apartment and a few streets around it?
Your “heroes” the media told you were worthy of praise?
What do you actually know about your country besides the propaganda?
Loving a shiny illusion, a rotten, shiny apple, is easy when you’ve never tasted the real thing.
Being hungry for the image of a plastic burger is the easiest trick in the book, yet you bet your entire existence on a thin foil mirage.
You bet it all because you want to believe you are safe.
That your country is great.
That your fear of rejection from your socio ethnic tribe is appeased.
That nobody will let you starve tomorrow.
You call this visceral FOMO, this desperate human dependence on the whole social machinery… love?
Not only do you “love” your country for these dirty, obvious reasons, you also hate perceived enemies simply because somebody told you to.
What do you actually know about the foreigner you hate so thoroughly?
Easy to spot, maybe, because he looks, speaks or prays differently from you.
You were taught to “love” your country without really knowing it, just enough so you obey, and even go sacrifice yourself for it.
You were also taught to genuinely hate whatever differs from your taste, your customs, your skin colour, your clothes or your religion.
Indoctrination is what you’ve turned your brain into.
Your “truth” is hate.
Your “love” is fake.
Your fear of the Other is so deeply installed that you automatically reject anything not bearing the official stamp of approval from your government.
You are more sheep like than actual sheep.
Sheep will sometimes wander into unknown pastures.
You will never even step outside your assigned yard.
They even conditioned you not to see that the grass is greener outside.
And when you do glimpse it, you wish it would burn, so your own grass will then look greener than your neighbour’s.
This is the proverbial: “May my neighbour’s goat die too.”
May you grow a brain someday, because right now you’re just a tool in the hands of a master puppeteer who plays power games with your life.
You don’t even see how deeply your opinions are not your own.
How profoundly fearful, compliant, questionless, and docile an animal you are.
How deeply you swim in a lake of hate.
And how ridiculous it is to bear your blazon on which “love” is written, a mere lid on a can of worms you call “my country.”
You do not know what love is.
When you love, you cannot hate.