"The Price of Our Comfort: Death of a Plan

Cut the trees. Burn the forests. After all, who really cares? We don’t need oxygen — not when we can have polished wooden floors, designer furniture, and luxury beds to rot in. Why bother with fruits, vegetables, or clean air, when there are supermarkets stacked with plastic-wrapped poisons to feed us? We don't need nature — only concrete, glass, and steel to remind us how “advanced” we are. Animals can die, birds can disappear, forests can turn to ash — as long as our homes are fully furnished, as long as we can scroll our screens and show off our fake lives, what does the death of the planet matter?

Our leaders smile in their air-conditioned towers while the earth withers and suffocates. Our people clap for another shopping mall built over green land, another forest erased for more factories. We call this progress. We call this civilization. But soon there will be no air to breathe, no water to drink, no food to eat — and no life to live. Yet no one cares. Because luxury feels better than truth. Comfort is more important than survival. We are so proud of our wooden beds — cut from the very trees that gave us life — and we will lie in them as we choke on our last breath.

Let the animals go homeless. Let the skies turn gray. Let the rivers run dry. As long as our living rooms look beautiful, who needs a living world? We are building our own graves, polishing them with style, filling them with the scent of fresh-cut wood — the wood of the forests that once kept us alive. This is the price of our comfort: total destruction dressed in golden curtains.