the dialectics of disorganisation

Submitted by lei-powell on 15 December, 2006 - 03:50.

The dyspraxic dialectic disorientates. Confused yet? Capital? Yes!!!

The System demands so much of us. The insane system demands sanity. When I was a child I used to draw pictures with crayons. I used to follow mazes with the primrary colours (red, green and blue). They said that my work should have an aim, a destination. A telos, if you will. But but but before my conscious mind could even grasp the concept of alienation it had invaded my soul with its cold hands.

I couldn't face the dole office. The mazes had become forms, and the colours had died. So many forms to fill in, it became-prison. An internal maze of questions, mirroring spectacles
and spectacular mirrors. As I dove deeper through the looking glass I felt that I was pushing on a door with a sign that said 'pull'.

I was drawn into all the subcultures. Punk, activism, dyspraxism. And all the while I could not escape the gaze of the spectacle. And all the while I gazed back (like a mirror) into the abyss. I felt I had found my home but I was wrong, I was Homeless. And I looked like it. As I stumbled on down the road to nothingness I became AWARE of myself. And my self became aware. I had just been looking for more questions when I thought I was looking for answers. So then I began looking for the real answer, and the answer is

"In a world that is totally turned on its head, a moment of truth is a moment of the false!"

15 December, 2006 - 03:52

yeah, priests can really fuck you up.

15 December, 2006 - 04:22

i don't understand? :?

15 December, 2006 - 04:25

they fuck with your head

15 December, 2006 - 04:30

something fucked with my head, but i think it was CAPITALISM smile

15 December, 2006 - 13:26

:?

15 December, 2006 - 13:36
lei-powell wrote:
I used to follow mazes with the primrary colours (red, green and blue).

:?

Is this a joke or something? Lei whats your point?

16 December, 2006 - 11:34
lei-powell wrote:
I had just been looking for more questions when I thought I was looking for answers. So then I began looking for the real answer, and the answer is

"In a world that is totally turned on its head, a moment of truth is a moment of the false!"

Thanks for the clarification, Lei. Now admit it, you've been reading Baudrillard, haven't you?

16 December, 2006 - 20:16

Bad teenage poetry. Bin it.