In the heart of everyday life, beneath the buzz of restaurant chatter and the soft glow of ambient lights, a quiet tragedy unfolds. You step into these spaces not with intention, but through learned protocol—etched by etiquette, cemented by cultural conditioning, and reinforced by ritualized obedience. You follow the ritual without thought, seated at tables where consciousness is dimmed to a whisper, conscience is starved, truth is buried beneath appetite, and your soul is silenced by seasoning.
Menus open like scriptures of amnesia. “Beef.” “Chicken.” “Pork.” “Fish.” “Cheese.” “Eggs.” “Honey.” Each term a spell—crafted to mask violence, to soften exploitation, and to rename a sentient life into something served as if it were born for the plate. No names. No histories. No emotion. These aren’t merely options—they’re the residue of a society trained to forget. A performance begins. Refined. Rehearsed. Voiceless beings reduced to flavor profiles, their stories erased beneath sauces and ceremony.
It’s in this trance, repeated daily, that you drift into zombie consciousness—awake in motion, asleep in meaning.
🧬The Cost of Culinary Conditioning: Lives Engineered for Disconnection
This isn’t just culture—it’s industry.
The system breeds not only animals, but obedience.
Chickens genetically sculpted for unnatural growth,
pigs confined to concrete sorrow,
cows stripped of their offspring through systematic violation.
Just yolks, taken from bodies never meant to give endlessly.
Nectar siphoned from enslaved wings.
And fish—mouths wide in a death with no voice.
Unheard screams of the suffocating.
Their suffering is real, but invisibility is policy.
Flavor becomes the costume that cruelty wears.
You’re kept at a distance. Not only from the animals— but from yourself.
Each bite becomes a ritual of disconnect.
Each restaurant a stage for your hypnotized participation.
Not a monster—just a mind misled by design.
The menu becomes your machine of forgetting—your altar of amnesia.
No feathers. No fur. No screams.
Only categories—refined, rehearsed, reinforced.
A language engineered to suppress your remembrance.
You don’t choose cruelty; you’re programmed to crave it.
You walk in alert but feed in a trance—
a zombie state of borrowed beliefs and deleted truths.
Your memory wiped. Your conscience archived. Your awareness uninvited.
Your consciousness—dimmed to a flicker, flickering to nothing.
As if your soul went offline at the door, replaced by appetite.
🎭The Dining Arena
You don’t choose from a menu—you perform a ritual scripted by culture.
Your hunger is framed as freedom,
but the choices were choreographed long before you arrived.
This isn’t televised spectacle—it’s ritualized obedience.
The dishes arrive, the names disappear, and you play your part.
Polite. Pleased. Unaware.
But animals were never food to begin with.
They were individuals—erased, renamed, reduced.
Sentience repackaged as entrée.
Not by necessity, but by narrative
What masquerades as autonomy is a carefully rehearsed act—
where cruelty is softened into cuisine,
and silence is served in every course.
🧟 Your Life in Zombie Mode
In this low state of consciousness, you drift—not through choices, but through scripts. You recite traditions passed down without question, obey marketing as if it were morality, and treat violence as convenience. It’s not that you’re evil. It’s that you’ve been taught to forget what goodness is.
This isn’t simply a culture of consumption—it’s a system of sedation.
A design that trains your eyes to look away, your tongue to praise cruelty as cuisine, and your conscience to retreat behind comfort.
Every layer conspires in this trance: media, tradition, advertising—even language itself.
🔚 Breaking Your Wall of Manufactured Brain Fog
But the walls built to hide reality are not impenetrable.
They’re illusions—fortified by repetition, sustained by silence, and disguised as culture.
Piercing them is not merely empathy—it is defiance.
Because the greatest act of rebellion in a world designed to keep you asleep…
is to awaken.
To tear through the veil.
To reclaim the mind that was never meant to be yours.
To question the menu is to challenge the machine.
To reject categories is to restore faces, voices, and truths.
To awaken is not just a shift in diet—it’s a revolution in consciousness.
You were never born to be a zombie.
You were born to remember.
And now—
you do.
Recommended Reads: Belief Isn’t a License: Dismantling the Myth of Human Entitlement
