disparaturi (2)

Capitalism is turning into fascism. I don't know if it already was, or is. This is probably something that can be discussed and is discussed at infinite length in macro and micro terms. But I'm only really interested in the micro aspect. The relegation of personal responsibility by virtue of a higher authority that displaces or dissolves your own system of values. Thus your actions only exist as an extension of the manifestations of a higher power.

Azi am fost muist la munca. Am dat muie si trebuia sa ma simt prost da' m-a durut la pula. Ca nu e treaba mea. Si nici numele meu. Si nici viata mea.

The question of either playing the game, or contemplating it with disdain from afar. The value of engaging in discourse. Null? Only insofar as you forfeit hope. And hope is forfeited. In macro terms. What do, what do. On the other hand, the danger of liking the game too much. Another illusion. Another dream. The question of either being in the dream, or contemplating it with disdain from afar. The question of being alienated with a mask on, or being alienated in darkness.

Only one hope, that of ripples echoing into the distance finding similarly tuned ears and eyes and even then it doesn't really amount to all that much. Other than a beacon constantly emitting a distress signal, looping "There is a way, there is a way, there is a way". Only no one knows what that way is. And no one would tell you. No one could tell you anyway, all the one ways that exist are all custom-fitted to the one carrier. It is not transmittable by words. So then the beacon says "Search, search, search". Even if you don't find it, a life searching is better than a resolved complacency. What people admire in other people as a sort of dignified complacency.

Look at him. He is so calm and collected while shoving piles of shit down his throat from mentally inferior defecators that happen to be the assholes and not the swallowers by virtue of sheer chance. Only they will let you know, there is no such thing as chance, you have simply not worked hard enough. Look at the grace with which he perfectly places the feces into his oral cavity. Such dexterity. Such wonder. His mother takes great pride in his ability to ingest shit. Best in the county, my son is.

How funny then, that pride in distant disdain is just as bad as pride in shit eating.