Today is one of those Sundays when my mind resets when I wake up, where I have no past or future and the present, no matter how hard I try, I can not splice in time, my mind drags my thoughts at a different pace, my reactions to external stimuli and my voice have no logical sequence. And, if before I didn't care about that, today I have bitterly discovered why.
My life has no logic whatsoever.
And there would be cigarettes missing which fortunately I have so I'll tell you why it seems that life is a bad joke.
The blindfold has just fallen from my eyes, and I find a whole world immersed in chaos, dancing to the tune of some pied piper in Hamelin, watching the strings that pull us all.
This is my statement of conspiracy collaborating with poetry to melt the chains.
The world burns and we all see it, we enjoy the spectacle of wars, we celebrate life for the sake of death, we take hell to new lands and in wars we see our faces for the cowards who do not pull the trigger.
They destroyed the nuclei, the family, the social, the mental, and we attacked reality. We broke it. We broke along with it. Of all human ties with any other form of life: we killed them, we fed on them, we extinguished them and then we mourn our loss.
At the edge of all times, at the top of the new wave we ride, every man for himself, fuck you, they are fucking you, chingale maestro, rifate!
And the rest of our time is a story of working for a living or dying trying. Of the rest any attempt to change it is not enough.
Genocide became naturalized, famine spread, diseases proliferated and food became genetically altered, the fat man from Maracay told me, we carry the natural shit and we eat the aesthetics. Javier and I discussed it, we took the cock.
You know it and you feel it, slaves of money, we are all easy prey, dogs dancing to the rhythm of “nobody knows who they work for”. Consumed by consumption. We pretend that everything is fine. Until death.
Photographers: Stefano Majno
