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what times do we live in you ask?

do you even see them?


do you see these bodies wandering around on our planet, so thin, so delicate, their skin glows in a transparent manner, they are nearly invisible, they might even seem 2 dimensional to you, they are filling the gaps of society and they always smile.


do you fear them?


those bodies are used to mass media, speed and hyperconnectivity on a daily basis. they are penetrated by every kind of radiation 24/7. they deal with overpopulated cities, with fake food wrapped in plastic, with pharmacy, with drugs, with porn - as if it was nothing.  they are not wild, no,  there is no big riot going on out there and why should it? they are adaptive to a maximum and wicked to the core.  don’t you look away.


these bodies might become dangerous to you. bodies, better in masturbating in silence than in being loved by any other. in fact, you, as you always want to be satisfied and confirmed in the power you have, can't see the gaps slightly spilling over. you're getting lost.


they seem static but they are not passive at all. be careful with your judgements, dear. you can’t feel their violence on you because their touch feels soft and easy. you think you've shut them down successfully. made them peaceful - made them pure.

they are mute, they are blind, as is the empty room we share, am I right? i can watch how they trigger you in a different way, they trigger you in their sole existence. and they are having their gaze on you on every single one of your passing days. those bodies are here already, located in between. located in this peaceful area. the laboratory of our time.


we happen to witness this repressed generation. those heavenly bodies, innocent babies, that you keep breeding and that are not wild. as their anger is hidden, as they always try to avoid conflict and they always will. and yet, that day will come, when you have crossed that line, and once they burst through, you will regret. your system will collapse, your dreams will fall and it’s going to give rise to the generation of the so called unholy. the children of a burned sun. resistant to hunger, to pain, to loneliness.

they will find you and they will kill you.

then embalm you with tiny hands, singing a song for you, their beautiful words will echo all around the air. their souls are going to shine bright and white at that moment, it will look like someone had accidentaly spilled out the stars onto the desert, to make you leave this earth and find your way to heaven. they will be so greatful for you, their eyes will drop dark blue tears, as you were the only thing that had kept them alive.

they will try to pick up some kind of sexuality and reproduce, but just like kids they won’t know how to use it. they will wander around the planet, endlessly. the sand will turn blue and their eyes will dry out - because nothing is stable and everything fades.

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