The game is rigged, every decision made
into a mistake, chained
& to regrets;
the boulder becomes heavier & heavier.
No matter how we carry it
– in the stomach, or on our shoulders –
the weight will break our backs one day.
Violence is the only way to break the chain,
only through solidarity can we regain
the dignity they stole from us
before the game began.
Fear holds us back,
but we’re always afraid anyway, so:
Losers of the world unite!
All we have to lose are our lives.
Only those who know how to truly love
know how to hate:
we wait for them to despise us,
a prophecy possibly more fulfilling
than anything they’ve offered us before…
Life has become an idea; vapour
rising from the surface of a shrinking
lake, never to return again.
Our first fuck was a clumsy mess,
but am I wrong to see the dignity
we’ve since spent building beginning to crumble?
Who’s the most humble, the pessimist
or the optimist, & is it naive
to believe that the only worthwhile thing
is to keep giving a shit
despite the odds?
‘cos I’m all in now; no backing out:
you’ve got everything I can give.
So it’s time to ride or die, to fight or hide;
to fucking decide & then fall,
if we have to,
on the hill where
we’ve chosen to demand the impossible
& laugh at the improbable.
“With rebellion, awareness is born.” – Albert Camus
When we were young
They told us
“Never look directly at the Sun.”
& for a while we didn’t.
Not from deference
to the authority of parents,
but out of reverence
for the warmth:
It was the animal – the It
& not the I – that compelled us
to wear the warm veil of our eyelids
when we dared to approach the source
of all light & benevolent warmth…
…but we are human:
curiosity always defeats humility,
& so we looked
& what we saw
changed us forever:
small animals stood before ancient energy,
a cosmic distance too magnificent
for our minor eyes to ever truly see;
a violence our gaze could never meet,
but only lose itself
in a fatal & final ecstasy
I looked directly at the Sun,
I’m not afraid anymore.
*Insight – Joy Division
Thought & image blend with emotion,
creating a weird creature
of our own creation,
we attempt to control this creature
with language, but the wild horses
of impulse & sensation,
cannot be tamed by satiation
We must accept the existence
of an empty space,
where we exist;
that will always be with us,
& that can not be filled
which consoles & poisons
in equal measure.
Nothing can save us
unless we shred instinct
& learn to forgive,
& to accept,
that sometimes we are scared
& sometimes lonely;
sometimes hurt &
sometimes just horny;
we are nothing more
than another animal,
born of a capricious mother
& a vast,
& that all we really seek
& some answers
to our never-ending questions,
& that these motivations
are in conflict with each other.
But acceptance is not giving up:
acceptance is defiance.