The Dangers of Being A Chicken In The Twenty First Century

Mar 15, 2008 - 12:49 PM PST

Imagine a dark deserted corridor. Silver cobwebs are suspended in midair as if by magic. The air smells damp and musty. The corridor is eerily silent, until the door squeaks open on its hinges and a light fills the corridor, giving you a chance to see inside the other room before it slams shut again. The dim light had shown countless rows of small, cramped, dirty cages. And each one was occupied by a chicken.
The chickens were in very bad condition. They were underfed and confined all day long to their smelly, unwashed cages. The smell in this room was overpowering- a mix of filthy animal waste and blood. The bad lighting made it hard to see, but you could still sense the chickens were desperate to get out. I know that because I was one of them.
Being a chicken is hard work, harder than what most people think. You have to survive on the minimum level. Food is scarce and so is clean water where we lived. Your eyesight is horrible, and your muscles are weak and undeveloped from not moving. You want out, even if you have lived on that poultry farm in those appalling conditions forever and never knew the outside world. I know I did.
I woke up that morning as usual. Tired, cranky, and hungry. And then, as usual, I sat. And sat for a long time. Breakfast probably wasn’t coming today. Oh well. I’d get over it. After a while I got restless and settled down to sleep some more. It seemed just like a matter of minutes before the door crashed open and caused a large clamor in the cages surrounding me. This happens every single day where the humans choose a few chickens and take them away and we never see them again. It’s pretty mysterious. My theory is that they get food. I’ve always wanted to be picked. And today, I was absolutely stunned when I was.
The human opening my cage was fat and smelled of sweat. His clammy hand picked me up recklessly. I was really excited and my heartbeat had just tripled. I was going to eat! The fat man collected about five other chickens and shoved us into a cart which he then wheeled down a dark, never ending hall. He picked up a couple of chickens and disappeared with them. He came back without them. By this time, I was practically hyperventilating from excitement. The man picked up the last three chickens beside me and vanished into the darkness again.
By this time I was getting sort of nervous, all alone in the cart. The man had been gone a long time and the unilluminated corridor seemed to be creeping out at me. Finally I heard faint footsteps and soon the fat man came out of the darkness to pick me up again and carry me to another large door which opened into yet another dusty, dark, cobweb filled hall. Setting me down and prodding me along, the fat man starts plodding along the shadowy passage. It was silent, completely silent. My fear was growing and multiplying like a monster sneaking into your brain, overpowering you until you can think of nothing else but that fear. I could sense that I did not want to reach that end of the hallway. Suddenly I turned and tried to go the other way. But my weak muscles failed me and I flopped to the floor after a few steps. The man pivoted and scooped me up. This time he walked briskly toward the other end. I struggled hard- I would not be forced like this- but it was useless. The end of the passageway was coming near and in the faint light I could see a large, red door. The man opened the door and shoved me, terrified, in. The last thing I saw was a big room filled with . . .
I woke up sweating and scared. The sheets are soaked and my eyes are wide with fright. I know its only a dream, but it feels like real life. This dream has been haunting me for a long time; I have had it for at least four months now. Its funny how some random, crazy things can scare you to death. I guess that’s how life is.


ok. i know. it's weird. but it's TOTALLY me...cuz i'm weird. have a nice day