Occupy, from the Grave

A few weeks ago, Atchu was announced dead. disturbing to even mention someone’s passing, so afraid we are of the Reaper. like Obi-Wan Kenobi, Obama or any other who has crossed the river of death, i am dead as fuck. Mofos-who-don’t-get-metaphors-or-art:: alex is fine:: his chubby body lingers on. Atchu on the other hand, committed political suicide using the worst possible weapon of mass destruction :: a humongous fart rich in methane gas, lit up using a marijuana joint. this extremely radical combustion blew me from the inside out,, and now i ‘m open to a new life.

would like to inform occupiers of the afterlife (( + postooccupy mentality – )) and the wonders of being dead.

occupiers: the afterlife is unbounded by containers or dogmas.it is gravity and a line of flight,, a place where we may find each other irrespective of theoretical categories. what delineates us also separates us:: gender, social economic class, ethnicity political orientation et al fades away when we discover that, when dying from cancer, morphine unites us all.

postoccupy. postoccupy. ritornellos gives us rhythm. the afterlife is about micro-revolutions in everyday life, healing, unannounced kisses; there is no real life to be found by insisting on the same. rigid. carc(asses). fuck. it is not about immortality nor legacy nor brand! it never was.. everything that is alive and breathing ebbs and flows, and we can’t expect permanency from the ephemeral.

the essential is that hypermodernity is here, this is what the fairy has being saying since the beginning. what is peripheral?

what is left is our relationships, and we are nude. it takes goddamn courage to own your own mortality. in this wake, we should look to the horizon and notice that democratic upsurges are happening in the four corners of the world, with different names other than occupy. to live and love, to have radical babies; isn’t this what we seek > where does clandestinity lies?

our countercurrent is part of a beautiful tradition of radical struggle. we stood on the shoulders of giants and must recognize this contribution, at the same time that we break from it when this discourse tries to keep us locked to the past.

our digital subjectivity is unprecedented. this new,, CHIMERIC human condition, a mixture of flesh times flash equals the emergence of a collective intellect. and yo, why not? a kaleidoscope.

:: as_bodies_at_the_speed_of_light_
_inside_majestic_fiber_optic_
_surveilled_suboceanic_cables,,

we exist ::

poetry is hope made language
avoiding the pitfalls of the maze
let’s celebrate this anniversary
singing the end

of •
RHETORICS WITHOUT EXITS •

fire & love from the tomb,

Atchu

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%# nihilism is just the beginning of everything #%