I will feel alive.
I will be in control of myself.
I will be burning, burning with life—a lightened candle always in the brink of turning off, burning and burning, never stopping.
Amidst your sacred buildings destroyed—debris that will be reflections of a past life thrown away to the dust bin of history, consumed by the fires of joy and of the heart, I will—we will—celebrate the nihilistic destructions of values and constraints. We will be the Virgin Mary ready to give birth to god—again and again.
Amidst poetry scribbled on the walls of your streets—poetry written with love, for love is subversion, it is freedom—we will claim the streets for us, and only for us. We will not give away any bit of it, for giving away a fraction of it would mean giving away everything.
We will be in control of ourselves.
Amidst the ashes of your burning flags—burnt by constraint—less compulsions, the building blocks of anti-history—we will refuse the spectacle of gender, race, spirituality, nationality, for we want everything—not a fragment—for everyone.
Amidst your trampled corpses—military generals, politicians, and CEOs—we will retaliate your violence with violence—we will embrace the spirit of militancy—and we will deny you what you denied us. You seized your power with violence, and maintained it through violence. It will be time for us to seize it back.
So beware, beware of trampling on us in your schools, in the workplace, in the street—beware of trying to annihilate every bit of our creativity—of trying to convert us in cogs turning as the clock of dead time clicks at every second. Beware of delivering us death.
We are many. We are cleaning your shit, studying in your schools, dying in your offices, making your shoes, building your houses, raising your children, cooking your food—we are everywhere.
You need us, but we don’t need you.
We will be beautiful.
The world will be beautiful.
We don’t have any morality since all of them are yours—your values to maintain your position.
So do not fuck with us. Never ever fuck with us.
Didedikasikan untuk penduduk Oaxaca, praktisi dan pembangun komune abad-21, dalam perang anti-spectacle. Apa yang bisa kami lakukan di sini adalah memperlebar dan membangun apa yang telah kalian mulai di sana, dengan hidup kami sebagai taruhannya. Demi cerahnya matahari pagi dan indahnya matahari terbenam; demi bulan dan bintang dan hujan sebagai penyejuknya; kami tak ingin menyerah. Tidak sekarang. This is the only world that worth fighting for. Long live Oaxaca Commune.
Bandung, November 27th ‘06, in the edge of despair.
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