If Canada collapses into survival mode, the polite democracy dies overnight. Martial law locks the borders. The military seizes power. Parliament is dissolved. Elections vanish. A general or junta rules by decree. Canadians stop being citizens and become subjects of a survival regime. Food is rationed by the army. You get what the state decides you deserve based on loyalty, usefulness, and obedience. Black markets thrive until the military crushes them with public executions. Fuel is reserved for the regime and essential services. Private cars are confiscated. Travel requires permits. Leave your zone without authorization and you disappear. Speech becomes a crime. Criticize the regime online or in private and informants report you. Cameras, drones, and neighborhood watch committees enforce silence. The Charter is toilet paper. Property rights evaporate. Your house can be requisitioned for “the collective good.” Farms are nationalized. Cities under curfew. Lights out by order. Conscription returns. Young men and women are drafted into labor battalions or the new People’s Defense Forces. Dissenters are labeled “internal threats” and shipped to remote work camps in the North. Healthcare is triage only—military first, loyalists second, everyone else last. Energy blackouts become routine. Winter kills the weak while the regime blames “hoarders” and “traitors.” This is not freedom. This is managed decline under the gun. Canada’s soft, trusting population discovers too late that survival mode has no room for rights, only for orders. The polite Canadian dies. The obedient survivor remains.
It is three in the morning and there are two women in that room who are not kin to the sick woman in the bed. One is awake and one is asleep on the floor waiting her turn. Nobody sent for them and nobody is paying them. 🕯️ Sitting up was one of the strongest obligations in these mountains, and it worked like a rota that nobody ever wrote down. When somebody in a community took seriously ill, word went along the creek, and from that night until the person recovered or died, that house was never without women in it. They came in pairs and they came in shifts. They watched through the night so the family could sleep. They kept the fire, kept water going, changed bedding, cooled fevers, dosed what there was to dose, and sat. And they did the rest of it too. Somebody was always cooking, because a house with a sick person in it stops functioning. Somebody took the washing home. Somebody took the younger children to their own house for a week. A woman would walk in, look around, and start doing whatever she found undone without asking permission, because asking would have made it a favour and it was not a favour. Here is what makes it more than kindness. There was no hospital within reach for most of these families, and often no doctor who could come and stay. Nursing was the entire treatment. Whether somebody lived through pneumonia or typhoid very often came down to whether there was a person awake in that room at four in the morning. 🏡 So the women of a community were, functionally, the health care system, unpaid, unlicensed, on call for life. And it was reciprocal without ever being accounted. You sat up for them because they would sit up for you, and everybody knew that without a word. Somebody sat up with your great grandmother. There is no record of her name anywhere.
the thing they dont preach openly is that they cannot defeat a god oriented person they do not even mess with that energy they try but they get it returned 100 fold its sad and we live very long lives well into our 90's where the fast rich flexin ballers all die early super lame you dont get money without a lot of hard work but its better than going through all that fucken bs
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