how can we be brave enough to stare at our fading corpses and decide to be organ donors? donating ourselves to ourselves to create a new Frankenstein that hopefully we will not reject.
how can we accelerate our composting process or how can we enjoy the heavy stinky smell leaping out of the turning of all the things we have piled up and left aside to deal with later?
this is not a mercy death of an old sick lady it is the murder of a dog gone stray
its a communal sacrifice ritual with a yet unknown symbolism, it’s a cult-horror B movie from the future.
its a complicit rebellion, its the crystallisation of a conflict, it’s letting go of the one object you thought you will save when fire starts and find the nearest exit which maybe behind you. pay close attention. we are gonna cut off his head and use it as a cacti nursery.
let’s come together to dig our grave, to think of futures we will not be a part of, to reclaim the present, to carve a new landfill, let’s burn it and spray the ashes on sweaty bodies working on a new garden so our past will drip off of their skins into the moisturised soil of our flower beds.