I mean like seeing it in person, having blood splatter on your face, taste the iron? What about watching someone get abused, like a meek wife being degraded by her abusive partner in a crowd of people and you see her silently pleading for help, only nobody steps forward- she shouldn’t have stayed with the person right?
You leave feeling sick to your stomach, you don’t ever want to witness that again. There’s a knot sitting in the depths of your soul which you’ve discovered sits conveniently beneath your heart and above your upper intestines. Which you found because it hurts and you cannot decide if its because you did nothing or if its because you’re broken and too sensitive. Because you’ve accepted the injustice as an unbeatable entity which holds power. Like an organism with immortality. Powerlessness is what it’s called, by the way.
It’s why slavery was abolished everywhere but prisons and why slave owners were renamed corrections officers, because watching us endure abuse is too much for you like watching a dog fight is brutal. Like public executions are immoral to watch but not stop. Like murder is acceptable so long as you feel it is called justice, so long as rape was acceptable as long as it was written in a history book and socially normal to a culture…
So long as you don’t have to witness it or deal with it or be involved. Deliver your injustices through TV that way you can preserve the innocence you believe. Your innocence means my suffering, my suffering, my inhumanity, my injustice, my endurance is what your ego feeds on, its what makes it possible for you to hate your neighbor and wish death upon them or look the other way while they suffer.
I hope that pit in your stomach, in your soul, grows into tree of shame and hides you from the wrath of injustice I experience, that others experience.
I was someones injustice once. I live under a tree of shame that is watered by your disdain.