The world is a crossing, so I cross, I am human, in an amusement park of a blessed life, screaming the joyride of doom, serving us with rigid shelter, acquired illusions and a concept of understanding, centrifugating in an acid brain washing machine, manufactured use of belief, money, media, drugs and aggression to keep us distracted, based on a misinterpretation of an aged zodiac. Religion is satan. And I come across humans on my road, who are not aware of their immaturity, their blindness, their stupiditiy, greed, indifference and the fact, that they have never seen more than what their world wanted to let them see. Temples. Statues. Monks and meaningless singsong. A proof of power, reigning, in charge, more than ever industrialized before. But just an occasion to rethink the materialism of the west, to replace it with the enlightment of the orient, an exotic outburst, a different chassis, an upgrade, update, preventing an overload of followers – amusement needs its variety, being amused new creators, idols, guiding brands, approved and labeled by the system, so named artists, self-made men, escaper, heros, who seem to have been at the right time at the right place, igniting their ambition and desire to be different and make a difference. And not one of us, not one of them, creates ever a difference. There is no difference. Ending up finally be nothing less than a pimp, worhipping a myth, in a state of money and slavery, global. Pretending distrust, a lack of interest in politics, not wanted to be involved in a system of corruption and crime, as far as they have money, honestly earned of course, however that worked. What does that mean, in a system of corruption and crime – a farce and pointless, and producing a rebelief of an existing, peaceful, sincerely system, concept, idea – even not a square is real, did ever and will ever exist, because it is too late. So fuck your temples, your traveler attitude and your hippie transfigured whatever you think it is real. Your enlightment is an egoistic self-protection. Your run away, your dubiousness, a worst conypiracy against men. This is life, this is what made you an human, in an artistic way. We are, all is a product. Artifical. Your physical vulnerability the remnant of humanity. If you think you can be different or make a difference you only keep the coin turning. Being different doesn´t mean you are mad. Madness appeases your pain. Madness allows you to breath, provides you the space to let off some steam. Being against, feeling proud of being a part of a change, treats your pride and eases your fear, you as a member of a movement against, straight up with your head in your capitalized arse, with your looping dreams, visions of a new disorder, a disorder in order, till your ride come to an end, some kindly cotton candy for your servants and by remote maintance off you leave, in your spiritual abscence, afterlife – And now imagine you have to go through this again, HELL! […]
“This kind of mafia-like structures as part of the system is impossible in” – here we go – “Switzerland”, a swiss company, as we were talking about corrupt systems, like Sri Lanka, which faces next election on january the 8th. – The best I have heard for months.
“Why you think the government doesn´t want you to be educated?”
“I don´t know.”
“Exactly.”
“What you mean?”
The sun is shining again out of my arse! Guess I had too many conversations with men-made men, in the last weeks, on their search to reach, regain or belief in humanity. – I appreciate my regained silent madness, even if it is artifical.