You fire upon us, you trample us, you tear gas us. Still we persist. You consider our resistance as insignificant, hopeless, a massacre of the indigenous. In actuality, you do not understand our means of returning fire.

Our shots are fired from cameras; our swipes are made with brushes. Every photo is a bullet, each film a warhead. We will show the images you have buried beneath sex scandal and serial murder. Our vision is the toppling wave to your levees of ignorance, a gust in your card house of fear.

Until your day of realization, we fight.

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