Maybe I have to open this a little bit (how about it?) and sex-appeal.
I would like to stick something inside you. It is madness. She is mad.
Oh my how I enjoy saying Fuck you!
George Wittenstein – “A Personal Account of the White Rose”
Weapons of choice, when and how to use them. The so-called hatchet, which I never had, actually, in the first place. Manner of speech, to hold weaponry, which is imaginary, oldfashioned and very strange. I still don’t possess such retarded methods. I tend to fight in different manner. If you lose, blame yourself. Your weapons reveal you and put you down. I say my way is effective. I’m sure you have noticed. More so, my direct action is effective by trusting immaturity and greed of the crowd (I have no need to flatter you either).
To live is to learn, and it is wiser to act otherwise than by the traditional blodshed, ill and isolation techniques used by many people, people who consider themselves above and educated, civilized and extraordinary. Some even call themselves intellectuals. Your status nor friends do not make you an intellectual.
How to describe an intellectual? Intellect is something many people like to say they have. It is a reason to diminish and discard, the lack of it, the definitions of clever, wise and smart and how does thinking or lack of it show. To be intellectual takes more than wanting position and recognition. It also takes something that most are not willing to do, to oppose people who have power. It takes intransigent will to change the world and it takes sacrifice. One has to be ready of not being liked. It takes integrity, honesty, constant learning, sincerity and yes intellect.
It is strange how guilt and blame are placed upon the person who is percecuted and the reasons why someone is hunted can be irrational. The person who has the fault of being different, the one who is hit again and again because she dares to say against. Time to bury the hatchet one might ask. Someone else is holding such medieval weapon and I am sorry for it. Poor you.
Forgiveness, which is meant by saying burying weapons, forgetting maybe. I do not forgive something that is meant to kill me, something that is meant to dehumanize me, dishonor me and put me to a place of somewhere below and unworthy.
Nor it is good to forgive when one is not asked for forgiveness. So be afraid, because I do not give in. I know on which side I am and what is my path.
For the art scene I say this, you truly have shown your skin. It is fucking ugly. I have nothing but distrust for you and whatever you do inside your circle. My deepest contempt. Do you see yourselves how much hate you have? People who do not see themselves are lost.
What is there and here the problem? Why gender is a problem or color? Problematic existence of how and never being enough, never.