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Tired of Life,
Tired of Toast with Butter

Any Englishman knows that this must be true. But then again, who can trust a country that votes conservative when it implements social-pain-inflicting policies. I mean, they are masochists.

To be fair we tend to put blocks into discourse a bit too much. No room for experimentation. I have learnt with time-feeling, that a stroke can equate a Ulysses worth of pages (probably not the best example). But maybe you think the modern agenda was for autonomy, and yet you are chained to your appliances, or say, machines. But I would like to be less LeCorbusian annoying and be a bit more grounded. 

I have been thinking in morals lately, a lot. I have been thinking about sexuality. About attraction and the so called sexual tension. I have been thinking of the pornification of the internet, the hooking up applications and the alienating force of contemporary gadgets. 

The human mind has learnt. And I think no one can contest that. There is a misconception about knowledge, and thought. Everyone thinks that they are both good things, that they are empowering tools, of-the-advanced mind. To learn is to accumulate processed thought. Knowledge is accumulated learning experiences. Those who built upon experience and knowledge can therefore, produce knowledge and thus learn. Dogmatism is a result of adopting a capitalist attitude towards knowledge. That of accumulation alienated from its surrounding conditions. To think straight, without dogma, is complicated. If then you throw social norms, constrains, etc. you have reached peak moment. To think straight, with no obtacles is complicated, more so if this is performed socially. Not that there is a Pure state of Thought, but clarity can be a valuable commodity. Thought and morals has a tortured historical relationship, and science has kind of really performed well in many cases. But by no means we should look at science devoid of any cultural influence (Latour). It is important in this exercise we look how morality can affect our well-being, in constraining desire, hope, will and ambition for the following of social norm, as if there was A Way to Live your Life. I don't think I am hoping here for a return of Surrealism and all the talk on the subconscious. I don't hope to bring to you an esoteric text. I am only saying that life is always easier, more enjoyable, when we go about acting more as we feel, than as we would in principle. Yes I know, risky business. 

Truth is that in this Eternal Return (Nietzsche) we should play less attention to the fact that there is novelty, or surprise, but to the fact that the world has already been lived. From this perspective your fear should disappear. I am not promulgating anarchy (in the Pop sense), for we all know that because you can you should. Think of Marina Abramovic's performance in London, where she almost gets shot by one of the attendees. Then we might want to stablish some sort of social norm that grows out of an instinct of self-protection. I am not claiming a limitless attitude to life. All I am saying is not to constrain yourself in dogma. I am not hoping to become an inspirational, life-couching-type-of-blog. I have been depressive, suicidal, self-hated for a long time. 

I have also been thinking of distance, and the idea that time goes on for all. Family is not valuable because is family. Is valuable for there are some who care, they think of you. But I would like to bring Niki de Saint Phalle and her hatred to social institutions, as a counterpoint. 

Men, and by Men, I mean many men, are atrocious. Poor things they have been inflicted with the cruelties of language. For their penis has come to define their lives. What if we could cut them short! We would have a beautiful choir of androgynous charm. All of them with fear of their own faggotry. They have then, inevitably turned into hypermasculinity. And don't get me wrong, but I really do think that gyms are solitary places, for the self-excavation of deeper and deeper. This doesn't mean that there are some who feel for their figure, to the grace of our eyes. Their gestures must be complimented. By no means I would suggest that they should be copied, manufactured. There's no such thing as a Warholian factory of grace. I know, difficult to resist its aureatic power. FAGGOT! I think the term Men, ultimately means self-hatred. It is in between the air that I believe some truth can emanate. By having our eyes wide open. You might find that reality has something else to offer far away from along the lines of dogmatism, and that opening up doesn't mean surrendering to reality, or Social Realism (not sure this applies), but the fact that in the voids of the silhouettes of the landscape you might imagine a new formation of sorts. Those that bring the colors and complexities of you Being in the World, as opposed to you, on your way through some sort of (Indian) graveyard, moving through, turning, crossing...life as process as it were...