Hunger was never the problem.

The wound was the wall between the hand and the soil.

There was a time when food was everywhere —

not packaged, not bought, not branded, not counted.

It grew from the ground with the casual generosity of life itself.

The lie was not that hunger existed.

The lie was that food was scarce — that it needed to be owned, rationed, scaled, and sold.

Grain was not born in silos.

Fruit was not born in barcodes.

The Earth did not invent “supply chains.”

We did.

And then we forgot we did.

Hunger became a tool, not a truth.

When seeds were fenced, when land was claimed, when foraging became illegal,

hunger became leverage.

Entire civilizations were tethered by bellies.

Food became a currency of control.

Those who held the fields held the people.

Those who taxed the harvest taxed the heart.

The first chain was not iron.

It was wheat.

Food is abundant by design.

Every seed carries a fractal promise — not a single plant, but a lineage.

A tomato holds generations.

A forest is one acorn multiplied through time.

Nature never designed food to run out.

Only to cycle, to return, to feed what feeds it.

Hunger in the natural order is transient, not systemic.

It is meant to move you, not enslave you.

Today, the scarcity of food is:

• Engineered by ownership, not biology

• Maintained through laws, not necessity

• Enforced through dependency, not nature

We burn surplus grain to keep prices high.

We ship food across oceans instead of planting it next door.

We lock abundance behind plastic, logistics, and corporate supply.

All the while, the soil waits.

This is the first cut — the belly wound.

To slit hunger open is to see the truth pulsing beneath:

• Food is not a product.

• Scarcity is a spell.

• The Earth was always enough.

The wound was never in the Earth.

It was in the story.

When you plant, when you forage, when you share harvest freely —

you are not just growing food.

You are breaking the spell.

You are remembering the original economy:

sun → soil → seed → hand → mouth → return.

This is why gardens are dangerous to empires.

This is why control begins with the stomach.

“Hunger was the first blade they held to our throats.

Soil is the blade we take back.”

Hunger was never the problem.

The wound was the wall between the hand and the soil.

There was a time when food was everywhere —

not packaged, not bought, not branded, not counted.

It grew from the ground with the casual generosity of life itself.

The lie was not that hunger existed.

The lie was that food was scarce — that it needed to be owned, rationed, scaled, and sold.

Grain was not born in silos.

Fruit was not born in barcodes.

The Earth did not invent “supply chains.”

We did.

And then we forgot we did.

Hunger became a tool, not a truth.

When seeds were fenced, when land was claimed, when foraging became illegal,

hunger became leverage.

Entire civilizations were tethered by bellies.

Food became a currency of control.

Those who held the fields held the people.

Those who taxed the harvest taxed the heart.

The first chain was not iron.

It was wheat.

Food is abundant by design.

Every seed carries a fractal promise — not a single plant, but a lineage.

A tomato holds generations.

A forest is one acorn multiplied through time.

Nature never designed food to run out.

Only to cycle, to return, to feed what feeds it.

Hunger in the natural order is transient, not systemic.

It is meant to move you, not enslave you.

Today, the scarcity of food is:

• Engineered by ownership, not biology

• Maintained through laws, not necessity

• Enforced through dependency, not nature

We burn surplus grain to keep prices high.

We ship food across oceans instead of planting it next door.

We lock abundance behind plastic, logistics, and corporate supply.

All the while, the soil waits.

This is the first cut — the belly wound.

To slit hunger open is to see the truth pulsing beneath:

• Food is not a product.

• Scarcity is a spell.

• The Earth was always enough.

The wound was never in the Earth.

It was in the story.

When you plant, when you forage, when you share harvest freely —

you are not just growing food.

You are breaking the spell.

You are remembering the original economy:

sun → soil → seed → hand → mouth → return.

This is why gardens are dangerous to empires.

This is why control begins with the stomach.

“Hunger was the first blade they held to our throats.

Soil is the blade we take back.”