Live Like Today is Your Last Day on Earth!

"It could be worse"

How many times have we served up these delicious slices of philosophical pie? Just about as many times as we've heard them, probably.

That's beautiful. I love how you live your life like a poster in a guidance counselor's office.

You make me sick. Stop this monster before it smashes the ever-living sanity out of you!

Am I supposed to live as if my problems don't matter? As if I am being weak for caring about what happens to me?

Repeat after me: There is no shame in having reactions and feelings and needs and freakin' pity for myself!

I don't want to live every day as if it is my last. I've seen what I thought was my last day and it was grim and lonely and it made me want to eat an entire chocolate cake WITH SPRINKLES! I am all for appreciating each day and making that leap, but the fact is, as much as there is a likelihood that we'll die tomorrow, there is just as much a likelihood, and probably even more of one, that you will live. That means there are consequences. Ones we as humans don't want to deal with. Think about it- when you get drunk and do something incredibly stupid, do you wake up and say, "Wow- super glad I made out with my best friend's mom! No regrets!" Is that who you want to be?

Some cliches exist because they sum up the things we want to tell people. Some exist because we have run out of "answers" and are sick of those people who act as if they want an answer from you, but then trash all your suggestions. Some exist because we like to pretend life is simple and can be summed up in one fortune cookie. Have you read a fortune cookie lately?



Am I guilty of using these lines from time to time? Heck yes! I will cliche the pigtails off your underage girlfriend! That doesn't mean I can't be a hypocrite and shame you for doing it. More importantly, at least I know what a crime to humanity I am committing. I am doing it with full awareness of it and the horrors it brings unto us. What do these two phrases, and many like them promote? Shame. Self-hate. Disappointment. Humiliation. Masking. Repression.... The thing is, we need to recognize when things aren't how we want them to be. Awareness is how we make change. Simply accepting the unpleasant things will not lead to progress! We can no longer be the abused wife of life! Besides, how is it right or fair to compare oneself to every other downtrodden case? "Yes, your scalp was stuck in a garbage truck and you were dragged by your hair for 2 miles, but... this guy has lung cancer from smoking for 40 years, so, hey! It could be worse!"

As much as I hate other people to be unhappy or sick or sad or dead, if something is MY problem, it's MY problem. That means, "no wise words are gonna stop the bleeding". As the guy in that band says in that song. You preach it, dude in that band!

Maybe I'm just sick of coffee cups with heart shape bubbles and people jumping in front of green screens masked as a blue sky and dandelions, babies giggling inside flowers, and puppies. Wait- I went too far, sorry. There are never enough puppies. Whoever told you there was any chance that thinking positive or praying (hey- don't hate, it's truth) or repeating some dumb-butt mantra will make life improve, they need to get botox of the brain, because they are sagging. Not to say some peace of mind and inner-joy won't help, as it may, but no amount of women playing tennis and doing yoga while wearing the perfect tampon will lessen my desire to stab people during my period, honey. After all, we know what happened to Carrie when she wore white pants on that certain day of the month....

How to Be Sexy without really Trying (women's edition)

This is not a topic I talk about or think about often, but it does nonetheless come up from time to time. I can't completely ignore it, now, can I?

When I talk about sexy, I don't mean, "Oh, look, she has boobs and such and such. I like that." When I say sexy, I mean walking down the street and heads are turning. Men in desire, women in envy (some also in desire). Too intimidated to hoot and holler. Looking for any excuse to talk to you, touch you, smell you. That kind of sexy.

We've all had those days. We've also had more days when we felt anything but. How does one create this lustful look?

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• RULE NUMBER ONE: Attitude.

Act how you want to act. Ammirite? Maybe you're shamefully awkward and mumble and make inappropriate comments and walk right over 4 large steps, nearly falling down and dying when walking to the bathroom. Three times in a row.

Who hasn't done that?

If you want to be shy or weird or hyper or lethargic, you have every right to be. You see all these articles about loving yourself, but then when it comes to 'attracting love', suddenly they want you to be smooth and confident and cool as a cracker jack in February. Whatever that means. Just act like you. Unless you happen to be a psychopath on a murder rampage. In which case, find your way to the nearest- um, I'll stop myself there.

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• RULE NUMBER TWO: Clothing.

I don't know what you like to wear and I don't care what you wear! You're a big girl, you can dress yourself. If you're trying to look sexy, I probably don't recommend blood stained windbreaker blouses and flab trappers (as I will now call leggings), but if you're into that, maybe there's a guy out there into it too. Do you really want to attract a guy who will expect you to dress up each time you see him? God, that sounds like a lot of work. All the power to those of you who put effort into existence, but for those of us who get distracted easily and end up with only half lipsticked lips because there was something glimmering in your reflection, we don't got time for that!

Wear less to catch our eye...



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Wear more to make men sigh...



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Wear a bathing suit and eat vagina pie!



Wear the things that hit the right spots, miss the wrong spots, give you space to dance or frolic or just take a seat without finding yourself in the predicament of a habitual butt-crack wedge.

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• RULE NUMBER THREE: Gestures.

You know that part in the movie when the girl does the thing and the guy does the other thing and next thing you know, they're madly in love and practicing coitus on the rocking horse they just built during the montage, from wood, her grandfather's ashes, and gorilla glue? Do that. Whatever it is they did right there, do that. Because if you're anything like me, your attempt to wink is as tragic as seeing someone with a clubhand trying to get their wallet out of their back pocket. "Don't worry, I got this. I got it." or as painful as a new Adam Sandler movie? Anyone?



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•  RULE NUMBER FOUR: Words.

"Secretion"

"Abscess"

"Wenis"

"Gelatinous"

"Republican National Convention"

All words which will not win you the 'sexy award' of the year. They will, however, guide you towards the man of your dreams. Maybe. Maybe less so if he is saying, "So, I was attending the RNC, my favourite event EVER, when suddenly I noticed an abscess on my wenis. It was secreting some sort of gelatinous fluid..."

In this case, proceed with caution.

However, aside from a few exceptions, as long as you're not a complete idiot, and he's not a complete idiot, you two will enjoy each other's conversation if it's real, interesting, and not creepy. Some people think if your style matches or your level of attractiveness matches, you'll be a good match. I think the importance lies in the conversation. Even if you have opposite interests or she can't stop talking about death (another 'Me' issue), if both parties find the other fascinating, you'll end up getting along well and he'll want more than a one night stand, as the kids are calling it. Don't be afraid of "awkward silences", those tell a lot about a relationship, I think. I happen to love them and embrace them when they come along. Just means you have control of the next topic of discussion, if you like. If you've been dying to bring up the topic of hand sanitizer: foe or friend? Now is your chance. Of course, if you just were awaiting a moment of quiet so you can drink more drink, that works, too.

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• RULE NUMBER FIVE: Kissing

Apparently, some people have issues with sealing the deal, or they have issues with the deal. The way I see it is, if it doesn't happen, it isn't supposed to happen yet or ever. Feminism aside, because forget that bo bidnezz, I can only deal with guys who are willing to take control of the situation and go in for the kiss without being like, "Um, miss? Pardon my forwardness, but I would honoured if you would allow the presence of my lipial (ha- that sounds dirty) area to grace your lipial (it still sounds dirty!!) area. May I?" Yeah, it's potentially charming, but 90% of the time, this is the guy who thinks he is the "nice guy", don't even get me started with the "nice guy". Although, maybe I will address that at another time. I am sick of this friendzone, nice guy junk. Point being, he is the weaker species in denial and he needs to be stopped before you "lead him on" by being nice to him. Ideally, he'll just dive in, but know well enough how to not kiss your eyeball socket or some random part of your chin.

Now, from my experience, it's usually the men who don't know how to kiss, but I am sure there are also clueless females out there. This isn't a science class, though, I'm just saying, do your research and be sure you know what you're doing before you go out, because a bad kiss can and probably will ruin everything.

Relationships. With food.

I love food.

I love the feeling of something activating your mind, your taste buds, your body, your everything. Every food item gives you different thoughts and memories and feelings. It might be a gross texture and make you gag, or it might be delightfully crunchy (my favourite), or so smooth, you can just slurp it up like Heaven. Some foods make you sleepy, some make you feel light and beautiful, and some leave you feeling silly and childish.

Filling up your tummy's desperate beckon for sustenance is a relief and an absolute joy! When you eat with someone you trust and care about, your mutual self-care and care for each other is a unique bonding experience. When your significant other takes you out for food and pays without question, he/she becomes your hero. Even more so if (s)he knows what you wanted or is craving the same item(s).

A dessert item is like that secret or very loud shared experience. It can be something you shamefully do alone, but feel so good about!

An appetizer- oh, boy. So disgustingly gluttonous , but if you have a tasty little treat to tide you over, you feel good, you feel excited, you feel relieved when it comes. Even a bowl of soup or a simple salad can make your eyes roll back, your eyebrows float, and your mouth salivate.

I love it for the faces someone makes after biting something truly horrific. They could get mad, but usually they just go wild and make all the faces and sounds you want to see and they truly feel. Somewhere inside themselves. There is no shyness when it comes to gross food; when you trust the people you're with. You might be more polite in mixed company... or not!

Every food you have ever eaten, you had at one point eaten for the first time. You may not remember it, but even your favourite food in the world, was once something new and strange, and maybe you didn't even like it.

My favourite food is peanut butter. Since I was a child, I would eat ridiculous, unhealthy amounts of peanut butter. Not on bread, not with crackers or jelly or celery or "fluff". Just peanut butter. Every time I taste a hint of it, I fall in love with it all over again. It is such a simple food, most people take it for granted. Not I. I savour every lick of my finger, every nibble of the knife, every last piece of peanut in thai peanut sauce. Crunchy peanut butter used to gross me out, however. As did pulp in orange juice. Now I just find it to be more peanut in my peanut butter. Nutty and messy and gooey and simply uncouth! Precisely how I would hope someone would describe me.

Not to mention french fries. My arch nemesis, my weak-point, my ab-killer. Who has the strength to only eat one french fry? Each fry, a new flavour, a new texture, a new chomp into oblivion. Children don't understand how lucky they are to have the right to say, "French fries. Just french fries." and this could be considered a picky child's improvement. Or a fair and "good enough" meal. For me? I'm just the carb guzzling, grease bather. Does this phase me? Not in the least. Just be aware of what I must endure in order to enjoy a french fry meal.

Although... I hate food.

I hate feeling like my food choices aren't good enough. That stupid 5, 10, 20 minutes of sitting and throwing mushed, mashed, crushed, cracked nutrition (or sometimes lacking) down my throat. It gets gross and boring and unpleasant. The stomachache and bloating and unpleasantness that seems to come all too fast and easily and unwanted. The inability to move or feel good about yourself for hours, days, weeks (if you experience IBS, you know what I mean.)

Not wanting to get fat so you can please the people you have no desire to please, yet feel the compulsion to satisfy. It's disgusting and ironic and not fun. To the point of contemplating anorexia or bulimia or just cutting of a limb. Say, the nose? As, I am not too content with mine. Water weight and muscle weight and hoping that my organs way 100+ lbs. It could be.

Watching how other women eat. Some eat so much and remain thin, we are bred to hate them, maybe devour them. The ones who eat too much and get fat and we ask, "Why do they keep eating?" but in the end, we wish we were comfortable enough in ourselves to eat like that and look like that without shame. Because there is no shame in looking like that! Unless, of course, you ask the models and actors and the rest of the list- all of which are known for their drug problems. Ah, where we find our heroes... genius. Or maybe we wonder how women eat so little and look the way they do. That one person who never seems to eat and yet, she weighs the weight of two of the skinny ladies combined. How frustrated she must be. Who does she blame at night when she looks in the mirror? I hope she is content, but what are the chances of that? It is people like me and you and us all, whether we know it or admit it or see or not. We are all part of it.

Of course, I happen to love a little something extra on a person. Or a lot extra. Or nothing extra! How do such beautiful creatures think such horrible things? Who or what gave us that idea? Of course, the media, the government, everything we see in the world. The things we cannot erase, the reason this way of thinking will never end, never cease, never be defeated. Self-love will only exist in the mind of the man or woman in denial.

Food which disappears so quickly after you buy it. Maybe it is just me, but I a so excited to eat the broccoli once I buy it. Every type of fruit I bought. I binge. I suffocate. I sit and sit and sit and struggle to move or breathe or think anything but, "Oy." Then it is gone and I wait several weeks before buying more. I starve meanwhile. That starvation! That ache! That nausea that accompanies it! I get it, stomach! Why not be like an alarm clock? Ache for a bit, then rest. Remind me again in 20 minutes or so. I assure you I will find food, stomach. Don't panic unless it's been more than a few days. Relax, stomach, you worry wart. I am going to take care of you and refuel. With what, though?!

Meat and dairy are bad. But I need the vitamins. I want the vegetables, but they upset my stomach. I need the vegetables, but they make me hurt. Meat and dairy make others hurt, they may animals suffer, they disgust me. I need the vitamins, but they are big and smell bad and make me gag. I need the vitamins but I don't want to suffer, so I seem to be okay without them. One day this will catch up with me.

Food is not simple. It's not simple.

The Train Ride (a short story)

They entered the train together with the natural briskness of a native New Yorker; avoiding elbowing any elderly strangers. She couldn't help but do a double-take as a man possibly twenty-six years old, only a few years older than she, sat 12 feet away from her.

"Do not become infatuated", she told herself. "You see handsome men everyday. You feel the exact same urges and crushes. Don't look at him again!"

The doors slammed shut and the train began gliding along the rails in the direction of her home. The train stopped at the next station and as if she had no control of her neck and eye muscles, she turned to him again. This time she caught his eyes looking back at her. He quickly looked back down at his feet.

As the ride continued, the frequency of their glances increased. She was even fairly certain he would smirk a little each time they caught each other sneaking a peek. She wasn't sure what drew her to this man. He wasn't as good looking as other men she had come across on this same train ride. The kind she could get for a dime a dozen any other day of the week. He wasn't dressed like a man who was heading home from an exhausting day at his luxurious office. He was an ordinary man with an ordinary face and as far as she could gather, he probably led an extremely ordinary life. Yet, here she was, unable to stop herself from looking at him. His shaggy, dark brown hair was held out of his face by his green hoodie and his jeans were rather shabbily stitched together. No, he definitely wasn't her idea of sophisticated. After all, she was returning from a long day of work at a big-time attorney's office. Her boss was the kind of man she wanted to marry. As a young secretary, she knew she had no chance with her large, surly boss. She doubted even other co-workers would be interested in her.  For now, at least. She had plans to move up in the office ranks quickly. She had big dreams for her new job. For now, however, she was enamored with this rumpled boy on the train.

She tried not to look away too long, hoping he would recognize her interest. They both watched the crowds pour out at every stop, concerned this would be the others' stop and their coy interaction would be ended.

However, station by station, neither of them even began to put their things together in preface to leaving.

As the train emerged from the ground, she watched as snow hit the window pane. She was not looking forward to walking through the snow but watching it from the warm indoors was just lovely. As she turned to do her routine check-in with the man, she noticed he had now moved several seats closer to her. He gave her a smile to acknowledge his act. Letting her know she was responsible for it. Her smile was shy in response but unmistakable. She turned back to the window to watch the snow. She caught a glimpse of herself in the window. Trying to be inconspicuous, she inspected her half-formed image for any glaring faults, fly-aways, or smudged eyeliner. She concluded that she was reasonably presentable.

Several stops later, she noticed how close to her stop they were. She also noticed how close he was to her. She could now see his eyes clearer. They were green... maybe hazel. Whichever colour they were, they made him look like an honest man. They were large and reflected the train's lights in an almost cartoonish way. She could also smell him. Clearly, he had overdone the cologne, but she didn't mind the pungent musky odour he was emitting. The smell was how she thought a man should smell. She worried that she would have to get off the train first. In which case, she didn't know what she would do. She could initiate conversation but that wasn't really a skill she had. Men made her nervous. She had never outgrown that adolescent discomfort.  If he got off first, he would have to make the first move. Would he?

As they approached the 18th avenue stop, he stood up and walked to the doorway. She was overjoyed, she didn't imagine forty minutes after their initial glances, they would be then getting off at the same place. This was perfect. She knew he felt the same when she stood up and waited by the door next to him. His smile was all-revealing.

The train came to a halt and the doors opened. They exited the automatic doors and he placed a cigarette between his lips. He turned to her. "You look just like my friend's sister." He continued speaking for a bit but his words were incoherent through the cigarette in his mouth. She just smiled, excited by the conversation that was finally taking place. The one she had been waiting for the entire ride.

"Are you related to this guy named Lorenzo in the area?"

He had a certain air of confidence and disinterest that told her he was a true Italian Brooklynite. She shook her head.

"You look so much like her. It was driving me nuts the whole train ride."

He walked through the exit door. Without looking back at her, he shouted, "All right. Have a good night!"

His pace sped up as he walked in the opposite direction from her own.

She stopped walking and said under her breath, "What the hell?"

It's not Insanity

I have been told my entire life that I need to speak up. That I am too shy. That I seem distant and stand offish. With a lot of people... I AM. I don't think this is a bad thing. I don't need the whole world to hear me saying what I think. I need them to KNOW what I want and I make sure they know. For me, it's not about everyone knowing who I am and what I do and my beliefs. All that is expected is that they somehow, through my actions, learn what I would like them to know and they then use that information as they wish. Pretty much, I lack an ego. Which is good, I guess. I mean, it comes in handy sometimes, I would imagine but I tend to be rather modest. I am not impressed easily and I don't aim to impress anyone. So it works out. We're all equal, really truly. We may not all do things the same way or have the same goals or intentions or desires but that's groovy. Not to say ignorant people should remain as such... sure, I personally believe a successful life is one which you are making positive change for everyone but I guess at the end of the day, instinct tells us to do for ourselves (aka our children and so forth...)

There are people who look down on you if you're not a BIG philanthropist activist hero moose goblin and there are people who look down on you if they feel you are wasting all your time on silly causes rather than doing something "more important" with your time. I, on the other hand, try to balance both! I would say I get involved with a lot of activism and good causes but I also go to school so I can have a career that will help people. See how that works?

My main intention here is to defend those activists, those believers, those fighters who can't dedicate their entire lives to "the cause" because they are also caught up in equally important causes. These people should not be put down for this, as I have seen done. A doctor who works night and day saving lives is not a bad guy because he or she isn't dealing with corruption in the government. What about those mothers and fathers who don't want their kids amidst a huge crowd of screaming, potentially violent strangers and cops and ruckus and madness? They instead want to be with their kids, safe at home, teaching them about life and love and the infinite possibilities in life... nothing wrong with that!

Just the same as I don't see some "big activists" at food banks or at adoption events or even at nursing homes. Which I find a little disheartening. Immediate or short term fixes are sometimes everything to someone. The arguing and insulting is just shameful. The stealing, the lying, the vandalization... these are not things that add to the beauty of the world. There are enough people destroying it, those who claim to be helping and take such pride in helping, as least do that the best you can if you're not doing anything else.

I don't say this to knock anyone or their life choices, I say this to maybe wake a few people up. Be their little reminder that change has to start within themselves or else no one will do better, no one will be better. Maybe they know this but pride stops them from changing (I'm guilty of this from time to time; we all are!) Just taking a second look at what you do and say and think can sometimes make all the difference within your life or even the world. This is how things progress and improve!

Twist of Fajita (irrelevant title!)

It can happen at any moment. That twisting, turning pain in your chest or stomach. The kind that gives you a headache, leaves you nauseous, and makes you want to run away and hide forever. It can be triggered by too much, too little, too big, too small... or nothing at all!

Anxiety is something I am afflicted with. Another obstacle that millions of people deal with in their lives. It's not the kind you can just take a pill for and everything is all right. Some people can but many can't.

It often stops sufferers from leaving their home or even leaving their bed. It's debilitating  and can easily lead to depression. When you never know what you will come across or, in general, what moment will trigger it, you come to fear experiencing things. You can learn you're fine in a 400 or more people crowd at a jumping, screaming concert and then you go home, put on music and sit with your dog in your lap and realize you find the combination of the dog and music is overwhelming you. You are finding it harder to breathe, your heartbeat is speeding up, and you can't focus on anything. You just want to get into the fetal position under your blanket and sleep. Of course, you're so wound up, you can't sleep, either.

This is what anxiety can do to a person. Take over your day, your happiness, your existence. It can even lead to an anxiety attack. The most dreaded time in an anxious person's life. You are certain you will cry or pass out or die. Everything is terrifying. You're falling, life is failing... Reason doesn't have any meaning to this person. You can tell them they need this or to do this but this person has fallen into a mental blackout. They can't necessarily process what they want or need, they just are following the motions of life. Oftentimes leading to depersonalization to escape the situation. This makes it easier for the sufferer but worse for those surrounding them, trying to help. This is why having anxiety attacks while alone are preferable, even though it may make them scarier.

I wish I could offer a cure or even a treatment. However, I can't. All I can offer is information. I will never expect anyone who has not faced anxiety to understand it. As much as they may try, like an disorder or unique thing in an individual, only those who have been through it understand. The problem with that is, because it is such an internal issue, those who do not know, may blow it off or act as if the sufferer is at fault or being dramatic. I say this because of what I have heard and seen and been told myself. Ironically, as many people as have anxiety issues, there are a million more who have experienced it once or twice and still do not lend an understanding ear to others.

Maybe my offer of a firsthand experience and understanding of anxiety will be of help and help those of you who have been misinformed or uninformed understand or reach out, even. Any step forward is important.

Scratching the Surface of Factory Farming

Shame is defined by Merriam-Webster as "a painful emotion cause by consciousness of guilt, shortcoming, or impropriety". That is to say, shame is a negative emotion felt as a result of not being up to the positive standard that has been set by society, typically an objective view. When an individual lacks in some way, shame is achieved. This is a human emotion and there is no individual who has never felt shame. It is normal and healthy to some extent. This is because humans are prone to do things often without knowing better or because of insensitivity at times.

Jane Bolton wrote an article for Psychology Today titled What We Get Wrong About Shame.  In this article she discusses the information, as well as misinformation most individuals have acquired regarding shame. She uses one case in which a patient of hers felt because she felt shame, she must have done something shameful, therefore, her entire life was shameful. However, this is inaccurate. Shame is simply an emotion one faces in reaction to doing, seeing, or knowing something they feel to be shameful. This does not mean the act is in fact shameful, however.

On the other end of the spectrum are those who have been conditioned to not take notice of the shame involved in an action they are taking part in. Such as someone who overcharges elderly customers for the sake of making more money. He may know what he is doing is wrong but in order for him to make more money, he may choose to take advantage of those who do not know better. On one hand, he could feel shame and do it nonetheless. In other cases, he may be so concerned with paying his own bills that he will not see any fault in his actions.

One case in particular which comes to mind when I think of shame in American history is the common practice of factory farming. Merriam-Webster  explains factory farming as, "a large industrialized farm; especially: a farm on which large numbers of livestock are raised indoors in conditions intended to maximize production at minimal cost." The definition alone does not appear to be all too shameful, however, upon further research it is clear where these farms do wrong.  I do not only find the actions of these farms shameful but also how normalized they have come to be. Whether citizens are unaware of the horrible conditions or simply choose not to care, there is still a major epidemic across the country and the world that occurs right within these farms.

Before delving into the abuse that the animals involved in factory farming face, the impact it has on each person must be discussed. Factory farming, the way it is currently done, has been used for at least the past 20 years. These factories have replaced the small family-owned farms and are now huge corporations that tuck away thousands of of animals into small areas, where they are tightly packed together. This affects us all because between the methane released by these animals and the pollution from their manure, the air and water can be turned dangerous and make sick those in surrounding communities. Within the larger factories there is about 500 million tons of manure produced each year, according to www.factoryfarmmap.org. Rather than this massive amount of manure being dealt with immediately, it is placed in pits or lagoons and eventually used as fertilizer. Unlike smaller farms, these large scale factory farms do not prevent the polluting of water because of the size. So much is applied to land each time that it ends up in outside areas and pollutes the air and water. This would be not be as worrisome except, in mass quantities, you now have the release of nitrogen, phosphorus, and possibly even bacteria. These lagoons and pits have been known to leak, as well, along with the overflow of manure, which then spreads into nearby streams and water. This will then be consumed and lead to terrible consequences for the rest of the population, along with killing local wildlife.

The dangers of this manure doesn't stop there. All the chemicals held within the stacks of decomposing manure causes skin rashes, breathing problems and headaches, and long-term exposure has led to neurological problems. Beyond the manure, the animals themselves can spread disease. Due to overcrowding, therefore, stress in these factories, diseases are spread very easily. Having all these cattle in one, overpopulated area leads to bacteria spreading onto the hides and then brought inside the slaughterhouses. Even one cow that has been contaminated can bring about the contamination of thousands of pounds of meat.

The concerns do not end there. They even go as far as changing the effectiveness of antibiotics in humans. Being that spreading disease is so common in these factories, much of the livestock is treated with antibiotics to prevent illness and promote weight gain. These bacteria then become strong and antibiotic resistant. This leads to bacteria that are stronger than antibiotics once they reach humans. This goes along with the fact that chickens often receive arsenic-based additives in their feed, this is used enhance the flesh's pinkness and increases growth. Cattle are fed with animal byproducts, this increases the risk of mad cow disease.

When it comes to the animals themselves and their well-being, this is at risk as well in these factory farms. Most of the hogs and chickens in these facilities never have seen the outdoors. Cows on the other hand are outdoors but they are crammed into feedlots, as most factory farms use, rather than more humane methods. They are not allowed access to grass or open space. Even in the case of "cage free", there is little time outdoors. This is because the laws regarding what can be labeled as "cage free" are very vague. It not uncommon for a "cage free" chicken to have an open cage for 2 hours and be considered "cage free". At this point, the chicken may be unaware or too unhealthy to leave their cage anyway. These practices are all done to maximize profit. However, they also maximize animal stress and misery.

The final group to suffer due to factory farms is farmers! Every year there is less of a need and less of a presence of smaller farms. Most farmers are unable to maintain their farms and income when their competition is so large and powerful. They cannot keep up. According to the U.S. Department of Agriculture, in 2007 more than half of family farmers lost money on their farming operation. The few but large companies that are able to dominate this field have much control over what money farmers receive and control over the general going ons of the farms. The amount farmers receive for their work and livestock has been steadily decreasing throughout the past two decades. The change from many small, independent farms that were charging fair prices into a lesser number of huge farms occurred rapidly. The Department of Justice allowed these large meatpackers to become a monopoly, influenced by money they were to make more of and faster.

What these large companies and departments don't realize is that the previous system benefited everyone. By simply separating these large factories into smaller, more personal farms, the animals, communities, and farmers can be treated much better and be much healthier. Individual farms have the time, and if given funding, the money to take their time to ensure all animals are treated humanely and all goods are then the best they can be. Those who are currently purchasing these products from factory farms are either unaware or uninterested in the effects of those they are giving their money to.

In this unfortunate case, shame is lacking in those who are supporting a dangerous and unethical practice. Through education and understanding, more people can understand, rather than make light of, the inhumane and unhealthy actions that go on behind the scenes of factory farming.

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"How Factory Farms Impact YouFactory Farm Map | Factory Farm Map." Factory Farm Map. N.p., n.d. Web. 26 Feb. 2013. <http://www.factoryfarmmap.org/problems/>.

U.S. Department of Agriculture. “2007 Census of Agriculture.” AC-07-A-51. December 2009. Table 5 at 14.

Bolton, Jane. "What we get wrong about shame." psychology today. N.p., n.d. Web. 28 Feb. 2013. <www.psychologytoday.com/blog/your-zesty-self/200905/what-we-get-wrong-about-shame>.