The individual in revolt is a restless place between the night and the light, between construction and creation, between blue balls and orgasm. And more. The light itself is darkness. And that is all there is. The survival in which we are confined brutalizes and uglifies.
You are always in control. Your tunnel vision grants you the ability to achieve everything you have ever desired and dreamed of. Your desired universe is precisely mapped out, by you. It’s your masterpiece, and you take so much pride in being the mastermind of your own masterpiece. You are always in charge of your senses. Always in control. Always so accurately measuring all the steps needed to getting it right the first time.
We are the Takers, the Destroyers, the Laviathan, the Master, the Civilization, little fires everywhere. Let us enlighten, attain and refine you or the barbed wired social and economic conditions await you. Resistance is futile, and obedience, is the only way to survive the “tough” conditions, here at the refinery of civilization, on the way to the slaughter-house.
We organize protests to defend our “rights”! Rights, a sham of illusion created by those running the camp of civilization, to create a sense of freedom. Rights are not! When they have to be “given”. And we let the Men of God lead us and the politicians to light our way and we choose sides and colors and weapons of mass control!
They kill protesters by the dozen by police cars in other countries, they jail journalists, authors, all the time for the smallest things, and gas, torture their own citizens, stage “confessions” on Television, and hold fake elections, and we over here complain about “our president” tear-gassing a bunch of peaceful protesters, and walking across to a burned church for a photo-up! We “voice” our opinions from the comfort of our homes! And scream! “No this is not what America is all about”!
We shall call it by several names: sadness, melancholy, unhappiness, despondency, hopelessness, depression, loneliness, lonesomeness, disheartenment, dejection, low-spirits, pensive sadness, nostalgia, fuck-it-all-moment-of-no-one-loves-me-and-i-know-it. Us the citizens of this world, we all want it, feed off of it, and worship watching its “destructive forces”. We long for it to come and give us a reason to get attention, feel the need to confess to “being it”, and lick its many faces to get its last remains.