Negandahope dies last blood crying eyes can see something further what gives the reason for weak breath of life still go in and out scars left on arms mixes with ghosts from the past only pain can live in consciousness just hope for death is left illusion of body is so real only hope still burns in heart it does not live longer it just dies longer don't scream! curse brought from the depths of childhood as harsh caress of november's wind pushes me to shot myself off hat over the face, closed hood conquered - threatened by the fears of the freedom cold of winter nights and hell's flames because of the past, just to live for the future deny today, forget, don't scream! am i doomed to reproduction? am i doomed to follow other's steps? the same deadlocks, the same holes in the ground filled with corpses as after the plague from early childhood we learn to control our selves, we learn to create our needs according to offered possibilities, we learn to choose only possible option - become someone. and there is no way out of it...while we speak this language of subjection the last day of bourgeois a.k.a. into dictatorship of proletariat violence towards everything all subjugated; to no one not even speaking for themselves onward! rip up the image of hatred power dictatorship of proletariat changes written in blood revolutionary situation petrified in order though we have realized one thing peaceful life couldn't be afforded eat pineapples chew the ptarmigans your last day is coming, bourgeois almost all revolutions turn in to totalitarian system. it is like that not because someone betrays it or sells out, it is because revolutions and revolutionaries strives for power, for new system.. even the most utopian system will be the prison for us! *last verse stolen from mayakovskiy ciudad sin sueño no es sueño la vida! alerta! alerta! alerta! nos caemos por las escarelas para comer la tierra hummeda o subimos al filo de la nieve con el coro de las dalias muertas. pero no hay olvido, ni sueño: carne viva. los besos atan las bocas en una maraña de venas recientes y al que le duele su dolor le dolera sin descanso y al que teme la muerte la llevara sobre sus hombros. ..extracted from lorka.. burn! wrapped in prison of daily life tied up arms and legs float down the stream between offices, classrooms and prison cells intoxication from sameness searching for peacefulness and sense forget and betray your dreams, passions and joys in company with eremites foreign among outsiders normal among healthy impassioned outside the prison walls because nothing have been achieved without fight because without fight you can achieve something sometimes refuse to fight is the biggest battle which we have to win with ourselves. the fiercest fascist lives in our own heads and we are ready to sacrifice a lot of things to please him. we rather can take a knife and attack others, than turn to inner battle. *** if now there is a winter does it mean that spring will come? if now there is war does it mean that peace could come? if everything is so unreal does it mean that there is something real? as long as there are questions exist the worlds, which you are creating it is you, who is creating everything it is you, who is living everything stop! stop to create! stop! everything has an end... often we strongly believe in consecution, in some (universal) order and that is the reason why we couldn't escape reproduction of our selves and the world around us. as long as we know, that there is 2 following 1 and 3 and 4 afterwards and so on, we are as dogs trying to catch their own tail. the best results we could get that way is to bait our own arse... family hey mother today i will destroy the power there will be no you tomorrow are you ready for that hey father your son is shouting i'm fed up of reproducing you are you ready to get along without me family - power's theater stage family - workshop of power's basics who gains from distribution of roles i know just one thing - not the actors police, government, capitalism have their roots in family order the black sun a.k.a. pochoronkė i'm standing on the edge of abyss of nonexistence black dawn greets me in face strength to outstep that threshold i have brought in my heart in my human-beast eyes shinning of the black sun glows just one more step, spread the wings and jump into whirlpool of chaos i greet you land where life goes different path even on stones trees grow here on new basics it builds the world measa a.k.a. oppressed and denied oppressed and denied is just a way to plant seed of control inside your will there will be no light at the end of the path just a pair of crutches oppressed and denied oppress and deny our sexuality is the main thing we have to learn. the sooner, the better. when we achieve that all other manipulations with our bodies and minds will make no problems.. |