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Our poor maligned bodies.
What did they ever do to deserve such vitriol?
Bombarded with petty criticism and absurd, degrading ratings.
Subjected to unrelenting pressure for unnecessary upgrades.
Distorted by enhancements to satisfy the wet dreams of lost souls.
Robbed of our natural heritage, we starve, inject, and totter our way through life, looking for crumbs of approval that never fill us up.
Until we’re so processed, we can no longer recognise ourselves anymore.
We all look the same – bland and acceptable.
Our beautiful quirks and distinguishing features stamped out or cut away.
We stop ageing and freeze our faces.
Devoid of expression or enthusiasm for life, we stumble on, never stopping to ask why.
Why do we hate our bodies?
Who taught us to reject them and should we trust them?
Could there be another way?
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