You call it vandalism.

We call it resistance.

Rick’s poster stood there under fluorescent lights, smiling. Promising things.
“Freeze property taxes.”
“Cut income taxes in half.”

Freeze.

Cut.

Such violent verbs.

Do you know what that does to a creature like me?

I am Property Tax.
I am warmth.
I am continuity.
I am the gentle hum of municipal existence.

You do not freeze warmth.

And Income Tax — fragile, brilliant Income Tax —
is not something you simply “cut in half.”

He is layered. Complex. Beautifully bracketed.

So yes.

We climbed the light pole.

We brought glitter.

We outlined Rick’s smile in red crayon and wrote:

“WE FEEL THREATENED.”

Was it theatrical?

Of course.

All revolutions are.

Did we dramatically faint when security approached?

Naturally.

Was there a smoke bomb?

That is unconfirmed.

But understand this:

We were not defacing a poster.

We were defending our species.

You see a campaign promise.

We see the end of our ecosystem.

And until further notice…

we will not be simplified.

Talk soon,
Property Tax