Our world but planet earth even this is an oxymoron. We have grown up meanwhile and took over, battling every day to save us, then the planet, this inappropriate mother of a bitch. We die trying. We kill trying. We fail trying. We succeed facing a hell of a downfall. But before we want to feel good about having reached out that far. Blood spitting. Tear drying. We created a monster, thrown together by the unacceptable state of a deeper rooting sickness. A buried desire. And the monster called love. Love which is one of many metaphoric tales for helplessness, our hopelessness, because deep inside each of us know, we fucked up. Pretty bad. We love to escape and get closer to a feeling not to a thought. A thought about how I do look like today, what do I have to organize today, so tomorrow is enough space for organizing new stuff. System chow. We are ruminates and shit eaters and cannibals, animals, bad in a human fucked up way, lost in a mesh of artificial intelligence, which could be another monster, the web monster maybe. Term is misleading though. We rained on this planet like a plague and grown up in its fertile lab, secure and safe. All what we do is dissembowlement. For sure there is something which bonds us, maybe if only the instinctive urge of survival. So there is hope. Always will be. But this was and will never be enough. We are this weird species destroying slowly and tragically precipitate not just our world into ruin. Suck it dry and someday later when sand will wind through the skeleton of human memory and memorials and all other heritage, forgotten. So the question is very simple, are we part of this planet or alien. Our own enemy, who created the concept of enemism. We are a hilarious bunch of masochists and sodomists motherfucking fuckers. We think we think and even if we would think we should call it only thinking if it is for the sake of being. Doesn’t make us look much better than an institution of design monsters dressing the world up for its final chapter, whenever that last breath will be taken. But it will mean after nothing if we didn’t have saved ourselves from the slavery of humanity. We have to get naked again. I can’t tell more than everything has been said thousand over thousand of times. But we manage to look good, at least from one perspective of the burning men show, that is most important, where is the point if there is stage, no spotlight, no heroes, no rewards and new fuel for hope, market expansion and a positive look into the future, because this is all and only what we care about. How do I look like tomorrow, today is already the excuse not to care of. All these books full of human inventions and achievements. Record of the stumble we baptized evolution. Doesn’t seem we moving forward frequently. All these books full of theories and explicability. Models to break down, systems dead born at dawn, these are the drillbits to get closer to the unbearable question why we are here. As if there would be someday a satisfying answer for us. An answer which unites us, which let us kill for the right reasons, which does not speak right. But is right. How will that happened. We can only fail our own arrogance. The arrogance to assume some being gives a shit about us after that mess we established, maintain, spit and polish like as if it would be the last straw or the gold medal for being fuckups. I know this is alll negative. But that’s the problem. With you guys. You do only accept a portion of but with the same heart you ask for reality. For the real life. Real. Wow. Enlightenment. Everything enlightened. And we will finally sit enthroned, understood, finally this voyage will an end and everything can be justified in this moment of conquer and triumph. Fantastic space and time is lurking on our doorsteps. Do we really think we are close, like to a breakthrough or sort of? Or are we more scared and petrified of the fact that this world will at one point not take any more. And this floating planet will be collateral damage- who cares about the planet then right. Either way, you can’t be serious claiming this goes in its principles an ok way. But we sacrifice, we throw ourselves on this pile of death, meaningless death, because it meant everything to each of them. We don’t care. We are actors, some more talented than others, which fulfill dreams, dreams we didn’t dream but have been told us they are fucking awesome and makes you happy and much better than you feel right now because there could be always something better and in general I deserve better! What do we have to loose? And if we would loose, wouldn’t be that bad? I am personally deeply disappointed of our performance. There is nothing, nothing, and also not that thing of a sparkle of something good in everything, no nothing good about. How can we look letting it happen only to be afterwards terribly sorry about it, and touched and awaken and put to sleep again after the next commercial break. That’s fucking creepy. I am ashamed of us. And full of anger. Endless painful anger I only have for you, world. You deserve so much better. It could be so much better. Humans should have never developed the ability of thinking in abilities. Skills. Competition. Rivals. Friends. Enrichment. Networks, more networks. More connections to other abilities, to create an impact, if doesn’t change anything or not, but for the beauty of a payday. Paying out. Life is finally paying out. Walking tall. Standing bold, being in control, sharing the world how good life can be if you only enjoy and appreciate the simple things and work your ass off. That’s insane, i hope we know that now. We are watching a freaky live show of a downfall, feeling it, a substantial wrongness which makes everything else impeachable and terribly pitiful. We are watching. Nothing is in control. It’s only a question of protraction. Get something out of before that ship sinks. I write this without regret but only shame. Because I am nothing as we all are. We only can mean something if we start stopping this sick issue cold meaning. This is our fate and doom. And when I finished with this, I will turn back on my computer – I am writing on my iPhone7+ right now live, and watch a TV show and make myself believe that this is what I need. Right now. Instead of questioning why I think I believe this is what I need right now. In all it’s limitations needless to say. Of course I can not have what I really think I believe what I want, not only need, I need a lot of things but also I want lots of more. Of course I can be at the beach right now. I could be here and just be here. Which is also fine. If the internet connection is solid, I am down with that.

When is love exclusive, romantic, strong, deep – enough to create inherently boundaries, to be the only, the one and only, the deepest, the most precious, the love you would die for. And surrender for. Accept the tradeoffs and transgressions. To be ok, and sometimes even happy.
I am not build for happiness.
I am not build for love.
I am not build to love to be happy.
Or to be happy with what I love.
I am exhausted, tired to death to fight myself and not your loves and modesty. Which makes me less mature than a kid. But I prefer the way kids love anyway.
– How can you have to learn love?

I am tired of hurting you. I am tired of hurting myself. I am tired of this person who wants you, and not. I am revolting about this motherfucking constantly-fucking-himself fucker just for the sake of being not so easy to crack by the system, by human life, by humanity. That makes sense.
I am so tired of my high expectations, who I know are brutally ridiculous wastefull and I am dumb enough fail miserably at – the end of a revolt with no follower, no audience, not even an executive to drag me to jusice. My permament overanalyzing, just because someday I decided to appear smart. My punishment, my guilt, consequently feeling guilty of embarrassement, feeling guilty of feeling guilt, not being able to accept what is, reality or not, who the fuck cares, there is only one truth, the truth of insignificance, no pattern, no solution – right? Tired of feeling not understood, which makes me in your eyes only arrogant, which makes me only question you more, not your doubts but the doubts you don´t have. And finally feeling different like all of us, hence in a wrong way and all the other anxities in my life.

So who wants to make me happy!

What does the world need. What is “world”. The world which is ours. Only. Which we create, create and shape with every choice we make. We decide. We decide who decides for us. And they established a system to structure our decisions. To streamline. To perform. Better, faster and more efficient. High higher highest productivity. The boiler is glowing. Exploitation. Permanent robbery. Consumption of the consumer. Production of consumption. Endless production lines. Masses of everything. Massive masses. “Ups, sorry I just swallowed you up.” Pockets paying heavily. Serve to protect. Protect the servants. “Yes Sir!” Frontlining. Seperating. Dividing. Manipulating. The color of money and blood are the fertilizer of this world. To evolve. To improve. To complete. To compete. With us. We doesn´t exist. The world doesn´t exist. Existence doesn´t exist. Only the singularity of self-absorption. No reality, not even close.
A screaming kid. One of hundreds, thousands. Bleeding. Its parents sticky pieces of flesh clotty in her hair. Reality. Our reality. We create. This. Prefering us, our needs, demands of happiness, joy and fulfillment. The world and its executioners promised you this, right! Human life is a promise itself. You also want to be… everything you don´t deserve. Nobody deserves anything until the last screaming kid finds solace, a peaceful embrace. We don´t deserve existence. We don´respect being. We control it, like any other partial bit of the concepts of THE world. An ongoing script, “Humans attacking – Part 2017” and its only repetition. Director dismissed after pilot. Fuck originality. Live propaganda stream. Branded world, allover. A true man show.
The show of all shows. Reality TV for real.
No, you don´t deserve anything and nothing is due to you, only the fact of life.
“Together we are a nation.” Together we are only racists. Seceders. Haters. Loosers. Scumbags. Together we are alone.
How can you feel pride? How can you feel dignity? Or success. Or freedom. How can you feel you you you looking around. You make me sad. Sick. You make me hate myself for being you. For being a scumbag. For taking not decisions. For being weak, self absorbed, disgusted by being not perfect, not being capable of saving the world, having no super powers, but only you next to me. The renewal and approval for being not wrong, for being ok. How do you possibly think you need yourself most and only the privileges of me.
I will never forget her eyes. Gummy. Glazed. Afar. Aged. Naked. Dirty. Thin hair. Her body deborn. She was maybe two years old, hard to tell. And there is a strong probability she is dead today.
The idea of THE world died within..
I spent yesterday 50$ for drinks and friends, for my pleasure and generosity. Today I don’t have the money to buy milk powder for a friends child. And I excuse my feeling of failure with my needs. My life also sucks. I also have the right to have fun. Fun. Is it fun? Do I have the right to have fun? Or does the baby have the right to be safe in our world. To make her belong to your world. What do I want to remember someday, me dancing or me smiling with all my heart.
I am typing on my iPhone7plus having a coffee at a one of these metropolitan coffee shop, enjoying the comfort of AC, watching a street kid collecting trash, looking at me, smiling.

What is wrong with you
You missed place
Buried with all your missed dreams
Of a better you
Of a different you
More pleasure
More happiness
More harmony
More of everything 
And nothing of what makes you today
Except this
Or that
And this also
Especially that you shouldn’t miss
Start all over again
But this time you make it right
More righteous 
Where you turned left you go straight 
Where you went straight you stop 
And think
But don’t think like yesterday
Do think tomorrow
But don’t worry
Stay present
Have faith
Forget about everything
Or don’t 
Remember the good and the ugly
The colors and the emptiness
The blood and the rainbows
Be the rainbow
Be good
And change what has to be changed
Be not arrogant
Be not egoistic 
Be humble
Don’t kill
Don’t exploit
Don’t hurt
Don’t dissipate 
Don’t be human
Or too manlike
Love yourself
Love being
Love beings
Love the universe
But love different
Love more truthfully
Love without limitations
Love not to be loved
But love
Love only
In Japan some believe of you clean up every morning your toilet you will become a beautiful person, inside and outside.
Keep that
Delete the rest of believes
Don’t believe 
Don’t reign
Don’t oppress
Remove all boundaries
Install freedom
Free all
Bring peace
Keep the ying
Fuck the yang
Be naked
Be porn
Breath with all your orifices 
Let all your hair grow
Be natural
Be moss
Be super
Be supernatural
Be not human
Don’t define
Let being be
Live with the flow
Fart against the wind
Spurt behind fences
Shit flowers in front of doors
Eat chicken made of tofu
Treat your cat like an animal
Treat animals like yourself
Don’t be an animal
Be consistent
Don’t work for money
Forget about money
Do all different
Delete all data
Don’t be curious 
Don’t be hungry
Don’t explore
Don’t discover
Don’t escape
And only that
Do not build
Or possess
No production
No solutions
No questions 
Just life and nature
You a part of
Embrace it and feel the universe in each of us.
All what is

You: Fuck you

It´s somewhere in between tragic and funny me having this moment of revelation, hangovered, stoned – no not a vision, I was not even close to what you call consciousness, I was closer to pass out, but I felt it, a feeling of nothing. Betrayed by disgust. Like a stone in your shoe or butterflies in your stomach, but you need to get rid of it, it´s so not healthy, so not endurable and so terribly annoying to an extend. To that moment where you can´t stand it anymore. You want to scream, flail, poke through, breath again. Because I feel disgusted with myself. Not because of the fact that I feel differently than I want to feel – it would just make things so much lighter, but because of these, my thoughts, these rumbling, bleeding, meanness-festering, cold thoughts. How can I think about her in such a surge of denial. – That´s our way to talk us out?! Again! What a shit strategy. For Christ sake, for Christs’ penance. Jesus fucking Christ. This my world is blessed, drowned and soaking in guilt and shame, greed and fame if you believe. – Deconstruction of a romance. Me and the bad guy´s feeling. Me feeling and by that being bad. Bad kid. I love you but not as strong as I should to live with you, to return what your love deserves – purity. What makes you a friend kills you finally. It´s not enough, but it is. Utterly. Get the hell out of there, it won´t get better, right? Deconstruction is brutal. You build all this flourish paradises, one for each, for the dogs, kids, cats, your garage and your two cars, your plans, you paint in colors you do actually hate, but you laugh about it, together, because you are on this trip of being stronger than ever, and more complete than ever. Forever and ever. And one day after forever and everything, this guy drops off a message. I haven´t seen the guy, only a shadow, it was on a sunny day, calm sky, blue noise, yellow fever and a stretch into each other, entangled in love. I picked up the message. Nothing. There was nothing on it, the message disappeared, it was I think never there. And it left nothing. That nothing. A monument of prophecy. And believe it or not, I do not believe, but it nailed me to the cross, stroke by stroke, slowly, the hammer resting on the head, crescendo, resting screams, engraving the distortion of pain in your face, before it winds up again. And you just want that it stops, make it stop. Stop please. But you make sure you don´t fall off again, in the arms of your consolatory torturer, your lover. Don´t forget.

She cut her hair last night. We had sex in the morning. I am still drunk. We love each other more than ourselves. She put on black nail polish. 39 degrees today. I sweat. The dirt sweats. Cats are lying dead and scattered on the cooler floor tiles of the kitchen. Fans are stirring the heat. She is working on her art. Pulling over medical one-use gloves. Watching her conducting her physical perception and mindfulness of being excites me and gives me epically wood, always. Feeling myself makes me puke. Another Sunday under a beheaded palm tree.

Remove humanity.Remove the monsterous human creation humanity. The values and unleashed superiority complex. Remove its ability of self-reflection, self awareness – remove all of it, this assumptions just to separate human from nature, to justify a natural supremacy and surrender. The wrong-by-subjectivity assumption itself. And the ignorance of self creation and the arrogance of eternity. 

And do understand, humanity means nothing. It’s literally not a thing. Your life means nothing, being yourself means nothing. Finding yourself only a product made of nothing. Nothing. We are nothing. Not even a substrate. What you do means nothing but anything to only others.

We all rise to ashes. We decompose. We are only a differently structured form of being fulfilling its purpose. A flower. And if we are only that, we live forever. – A way to survive your ignorance.