Build it an they will come - Increasing traffic jams on I35 for years to come!

There's a stench in the air, thicker than the Central Texas humidity and it's billowing from the grandiose plans to widen the I-35, a highway that slices through Austin like a grim divider of worlds. They say it's for the better, a fix for the ceaseless gridlock that plagues our concrete jungle, but the truth is as twisted as the road itself.

Imagine, if you will, a beast of burden, weighed down by the sins of urban sprawl, groaning under the relentless march of progress. That's the I-35 expansion, a testament to man's folly, an altar on which the spirit of Austin is being sacrificed for the promise of a few less minutes in traffic.

This isn't merely a road getting a few new belts to hold up its pants; it's the widening of a gulf between communities, the disruption of local ecosystems, and a slap in the face to the concept of sustainable urban development. It’s a monster, fed by the insatiable hunger for convenience, its maw open wide to swallow homes, parks, and the clean air we once took for granted.

The powers that be will tell you it's necessary, that the city's arteries are clogged and this is the only way. But this is heart surgery with a chainsaw, a crude hack at the body of a city that deserves better—deserves more than to be turned into an endless stretch of smog-choked asphalt.

And what of the people? What of the Austinites who'll wake up to the growl of bulldozers, the ones whose homes are reduced to memories for a lane or two? This expansion is a beast that feeds on culture and spits out uniformity, a Leviathan swallowing history whole and belching out sterile efficiency.

We're trading the communal spaces where the soul of the city thrives for a few fleeting moments of convenience. Picture the local diners, the mom-and-pop shops, the murals that tell our story—gone, replaced by the endless, faceless highway.

And the traffic? It will return, as it always does. "Build it and they will come," they say. Well, come they will, and with them, the same old beast of gridlock, just a little hungrier and a little less forgiving.

So stand, Austinites, before the sun sets on the last piece of unclaimed skyline. Fight not with violence, but with your voices, your passion, your ballots. Rage against the dying of the light and the coming of the night where all roads lead to nowhere, and all journeys end in the same traffic jam.

The I-35 expansion is not just a road; it's a symptom of a greater disease—a myopic vision that sees not the people, the culture, and the environment, but only the cold calculus of cars and commerce. It's time to say no. It's time to seek a cure.