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2004-01-23 - 1:23 a.m. The closer I got to home, the headier the scent of slaughtered cattle became, as the Armour factory loomed in the distance, evil with it's bellowing smoke stacks. As I always do, I pictured what was taking place behind the walls, (if only they were glass),and I started to feel my ankle's wound so acutely. Just this searing raw pain all of the sudden. Just this wormy, awful pain and I couldn't rid myself of the image of a cow slit throat to anus. I would like to think that this was because I am feeling more solidarity with the animal kingdom. But today at "Baja Fresh", they forgot to make my burrito w/out cheese, and I didn't send it back. I am sickened by this, it would have been so easy to do. It was 'guilt sympathy pain' that I was feeling this evening. Tomorrow I will embroider: "The question is not, Can they reason? nor, Can they talk? but, can they suffer?" on an undershirt and wear it every day for a week. Like how the catholics say their "hail mary's" as penance. I know I could be doing much better. And on my forearm I will tattoo 'Did your food have a face?' in bloody font.
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