You try to chain me with your filthy labels and your paltry identities. You try to hold me within your frameworks, throughout your colonies, snaking tendrils brushing against my genitalia whispering sweet nothings, but they are just that: nothings. Kill yourself. Art is so fucking dead. How can you sit by and consume while this rot spreads? Infecting everything, the real god invites you to suckle upon the teat. Do you refuse? How? And when?
Every day I walk outside and am met with innumerable sorrows. I drink water laced with microplastics, breathe air degraded with fumes, and eat food birthed from a horror we arrogant men think can be reduced to a 'slaughterhouse'. It is fucking rotten every fucking brick of this fucking hell. I am not allowed to speak because I am not normal. I am an 'other'. Every day I am met with backlash for daring to attempt to express myself. I loved it once. No more. Whatever that capitalist rot is broke the only thing I thought I could save. And so now there is only hatred left. I cannot, will not submit. I drown in endless theoretical ramblings about the nature of this hell when in the end all there is to do is revolt: bite and tear and rip and cry and laugh and shit and fuck. Not again, never again, I will never again see someone broken by this cage.
To the reformists: I cannot understand how you can wait. You value a couple's lives over ultimate liberation. What are you even fighting for? You're not even fighting. You're trying to tame this beast, but it will not be tamed. You utilize the same tactics as the fascists to tame capital but with none of their brutal efficiency. Even those among you who claim to fight for communism offer no clear project to transform capitalism into communism. Not only is it optimistic(at best) to assume the proletariat can seize control of the bourgeois state, but it is capitulation to the state as a whole. Burn down this oppressive institution rather than let it rape our hopes. Avanti!
Life is so boring there is nothing to do except spend all our wages on the latest skirt or shirt. Brothers and Sisters, what are your real desires? Sit in the drugstore, look distant, empty, bored, drinking some tasteless coffee? Or perhaps BLOW IT UP OR BURN IT DOWN.
Boredom worms its way into our hearts. Never never never never never never never never submit. Everything we fight for will be for naught if we cannot take the step towards revolt. I'll never understand you'll never understand we'll never understand together :)