Self-criticism in Nothing

In the spectacle "guard" - in art active, bars and TV a defense against regrets. Thought flows without problems, apathy the way that overcomes everything. You hear music - songs like this it's rubbish - like all rubbish. I will see gray sad pictures on a color TV I will get angry, sad and maybe cry. I will experience life through a representation of stitched images which are not mine, mine depreciated at some point in the year I will go out to a bar with "cool" music with friends and after discussing using a "revolutionary" phraseology for spoiling me in this wrongly written world I will gulp the vodka from my thousand-filled glass so that I can temporarily erase images, dust, that mark my oblivion and awaken my self-criticism You will go to the cinema, to the theater afterwards, to the dance club, to a party to get drunk. With a sight you exorcise slogans, regrets and images that have haunted you You hear music - songs like this it's rubbish - like all rubbish. I will be in the streets at concerts against state repression, party against cops and murderous fascists. In cinematic "dance parties" against oppression, I will fill up again my plastic glass countless times with alcohol. I'll get drunk, I'll go blind, I'll make a head, and with progress I will decompose the images of murdered children, dead immigrants, starving souls, abused homosexuals and raped women. With spectacle and amusement I shall succeed in burying my reactionary head, corpse. I tremble every time I discover that the enemy is not only others, but also my slender self. He who commands me to wash away with music, consumption and representations all kinds of shit that pollutes our lives in a society that doesn't belong to him.