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What does the world need. What is “world”. The world which is ours. Only. Which we create, create and shape with every choice we make. We decide. We decide who decides for us. And they established a system to structure our decisions. To streamline. To perform. Better, faster and more efficient. High higher highest productivity. The boiler is glowing. Exploitation. Permanent robbery. Consumption of the consumer. Production of consumption. Endless production lines. Masses of everything. Massive masses. “Ups, sorry I just swallowed you up.” Pockets paying heavily. Serve to protect. Protect the servants. “Yes Sir!” Frontlining. Seperating. Dividing. Manipulating. The color of money and blood are the fertilizer of this world. To evolve. To improve. To complete. To compete. With us. We doesn´t exist. The world doesn´t exist. Existence doesn´t exist. Only the singularity of self-absorption. No reality, not even close.
A screaming kid. One of hundreds, thousands. Bleeding. Its parents sticky pieces of flesh clotty in her hair. Reality. Our reality. We create. This. Prefering us, our needs, demands of happiness, joy and fulfillment. The world and its executioners promised you this, right! Human life is a promise itself. You also want to be… everything you don´t deserve. Nobody deserves anything until the last screaming kid finds solace, a peaceful embrace. We don´t deserve existence. We don´respect being. We control it, like any other partial bit of the concepts of THE world. An ongoing script, “Humans attacking – Part 2017” and its only repetition. Director dismissed after pilot. Fuck originality. Live propaganda stream. Branded world, allover. A true man show.
The show of all shows. Reality TV for real.
No, you don´t deserve anything and nothing is due to you, only the fact of life.
“Together we are a nation.” Together we are only racists. Seceders. Haters. Loosers. Scumbags. Together we are alone.
How can you feel pride? How can you feel dignity? Or success. Or freedom. How can you feel you you you looking around. You make me sad. Sick. You make me hate myself for being you. For being a scumbag. For taking not decisions. For being weak, self absorbed, disgusted by being not perfect, not being capable of saving the world, having no super powers, but only you next to me. The renewal and approval for being not wrong, for being ok. How do you possibly think you need yourself most and only the privileges of me.
I will never forget her eyes. Gummy. Glazed. Afar. Aged. Naked. Dirty. Thin hair. Her body deborn. She was maybe two years old, hard to tell. And there is a strong probability she is dead today.
The idea of THE world died within..
I spent yesterday 50$ for drinks and friends, for my pleasure and generosity. Today I don’t have the money to buy milk powder for a friends child. And I excuse my feeling of failure with my needs. My life also sucks. I also have the right to have fun. Fun. Is it fun? Do I have the right to have fun? Or does the baby have the right to be safe in our world. To make her belong to your world. What do I want to remember someday, me dancing or me smiling with all my heart.
I am typing on my iPhone7plus having a coffee at a one of these metropolitan coffee shop, enjoying the comfort of AC, watching a street kid collecting trash, looking at me, smiling.