comrades, curiosxs, we and gentlemen.
Sunday, May 8, 2011
How To Get Rid Of A Wart On Your Lip
comrades, curiosxs, we and gentlemen.
a while ago, a colleague and friend passed me a link to a photoblog of those. I've never been a close friend of fotolog, esflog and other similar moves, it seems absurd to upload a photo of yourself in front of the mirror with the camera just preparaditx for that "great ordeal" which have become such arduous nights in which countless spirits and drugs will tour your body causing you all kinds of sensations (unless you have the feet on the ground, that's not diverse). Total, upload it to a bunch of empty names on the computer screen tell you how handsome / a you when possibly no one cares and do so only by inertia or to look good (and it seems that algunxs, have the board without comment were low self-esteem, you see where). Hear little things technology. Anyway, the thing is that in this case, I found a text that truth, I loved it. For all those people who say they can not do poetry insurrectionalism dejároslo I would like here, so that each unx can read and reflect on their own or together or as it sees fit.
The text is entitled "Rusting strings" and the guy who wrote it responds the name of Citizen Terrorist.
a text which speaks of revolt beyond ideology, beyond absurd stereotypical beliefs or art in the same altars of anthropocentrism ecocidal this psiquiatrizado known as post-modern capitalism. A revolt against now against the normal, which is the least diagnosed mental illness history, against a life and a lifetime of unsatisfactory mortgaged goods rental and wage labor, in which each step is a fall, while continuing cabizbajxs, victims of fear of finding us which mismxs and maybe, just maybe, dream of being wild and free again.
way, I've taken the liberty of correcting the gender in which individuals had male and female individuals with X, to intend to continue my attempt non-sexist language play in this space. I hope the person who wrote it if it passed through here do not mind. Health.
Text:
The street has no mercy, but his hijxs either. We toured the guts of the machine to check, us; serenxs and sweet perrxs the street. Indomitable merciless. We have become inured to death, we have earned the gallon and have children to live at the wrong time, the circumstances that have revealed the truth to our eyes, we have brought shortages, yes, but we also have waged a / a adultx sumisx and coward. And outside exist in paths that they are unknown vegan pastorxs, away from the herd, confusxs stumbled on the dark side of history, living with every step the beauty of our natural stolen. And we feel the frost indiscriminate night under the stars and the sun relentless daily and incessant rain pounded the land as a gift of life, to feel our existence abandoned. And we are on somewhere, in another place, another time, why we are: insumisxs of time and space.
live trying to understand. We errors inevitably imperfect system, remains of a giant shredder, too difficult for the dressage too afortunadxs for castration (mental) of their circus. We have heart and green horizons of the future without clearings and fire throats agitadorxs pure one step ahead of the misfortune that makes up the / a stressed compliance of their couch. We are vegan hijxs of poor host, do not cry when it is not necessary because we have learned that grief is a burden and that negativity is just a double-edged sword, the only thing useful is the smile, that face quoted. Explore our animal side, revealing at every step what we are, what we want, retracing a path that cowards hundred lives would only increase.
Gritting his teeth, until we have none left. And then the gums. And we will dream home with us, legitimate. Wake up to / the devil that sleeps in nosotrxs when closing night, corroding the metal and concrete monstrosity with our mere presence. And watch the eyes traidorxs vegan, because they will become stronger, but nosotrxs bravest. And exposing the nature of man / woman without fear of consequences, because we know what we are and we like it. We will be free rodeadxs chain if necessary, refuse to nuestrx sir / at times requiring life, forget the pain and grief to smile again. Again wield setts, to sharpen the knives, to grease guns. Return.
I spoke in the plural, if you're there, if you sign up to be wild. You, Brother. You, Sister.
Lyrics:
where trees once grew, now the cement grows Today niñxs grow vegan, rodeadxs walls, patios encerradxs in the schools where they teach them to be cured by taking pills, to pass over the rest to feel superior to his fellows until the day to swallow the show or join us which in hunting freedom and wildness. In the search we and the time we have taken, have been removed!.
In the abyss of vegan bárbarxs the fires burn, the fires are burning more and more power!
In the abyss of vegan bárbarxs the fires burn, the fires are burning more and more power!
increasingly harder!
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
0 comments:
Post a Comment