THE FALL
– 2 min read
by Resineith Pernebsati
He has many names, but only one nature.
He is “The Parasite”, the oppressor of all, the architect of a world built on what he has taken and refuses to return.
He colonizes and forgets.
Planting his flag in the soil of the history of others, rewriting the story, and calling it civilization.
Taker of knowledge, stripping it from its roots, repackaging it, and selling it back as his own birthright.
Restorer of nothing.
What he touches, he keeps.
What he breaks, he leaves.
He moves through the world blind to his own contradictions, showing grace to none yet demanding it in return.
Doubting everything that does not come from him, stealing the genius of those he looks down upon, taking what was never meant to be his; their very names, erasing identity as casually as he erases history.
He wishes, deep down, that none of the others existed.
And yet, without the whole, without the people he has stepped on, silenced, and extracted from, he would be extinct.
He survives on what he has stolen.
His empire is built on borrowed bones.
He places his foot on your back and then asks why you cannot stand.
He presses down and calls you weak for not rising.
He takes everything from your hands and calls you empty.
And when you speak of what he has stolen, he calls you ungrateful, bitter, lost in the past, because he is the forgetter of history.
Forgetting is his greatest tool.
He carries within him the remainder of something ancient and un-evolving, a barbaric logic dressed in the language of liberty.
He speaks of freedom loudly, proudly, as he dismantles the family.
He diminishes the mother, the original sovereign, reducing what she nurtured and calling it rubble.
He uproots the structure of community that existed long before he arrived and replaces it with dependency.
He reduces sovereignty.
He shrinks the power of those around him not because they are small, but because his own standing requires it.
He is the righteous wronger, committing harm with the full confidence of the justified, never pausing to reckon with the weight of what he has done.
Every empire built on theft has a ceiling.
Every system held together by erasure eventually meets its own memory.
The Parasite's fall is not a question of if, it is the inevitable consequence of living in contradiction.
You cannot take everything and sustain nothing.
You cannot stand on the backs of others forever and call it balance.
The Parasite is falling.
Not because someone pushed him, but because what he built was never meant to hold.
