BREAKING THE INNER SILENCE
Don’t summit to someone else’s will.
Detach from exterior control.
Reject any imposition. Reaction.
Breaking the inner silence.
Beyond some lineament driven to control, to homogenize.
From a moral, from a logic.
Rupture and negation. Rupture and reaction.

INTROJECTIONS
Penetration of rules in every detail of existence,
channeling of conduct as a means of permanence of a
social system based on obedience.
The constant division of value judgments prolong towards
us like revealed ideas, making opaque and annulling
subjective thoughts, like subjugated beings being
permanently tied to what we inherited.
Being the molded reflection of what is by them desired. Every word/action, thought/symbol/abstraction is defined/controlled.
Lineaments of reproduction, distractions of control being
slaves of the ideas of well-being. Continuous silence that is reproduced searching for spaces to impose itself.
Constant pursuing of what is different and menacing, and
inside us the patterns of a dynamic of control are reaffirmed.
Spatial limitation with bodies petrified while every movement
and thought is watched over non-stop, the control of the
repressive look…the silence and the expressive rupture of
the most distant thought, in search of a space of constant affirmation…

SILENT LIVES
Prefabricated lives, following pre-established patterns. Continuous and extensive frauds surround this world of fantasy, mechanic in every day, discontent all our lives.
Manipulated lives, desires are managed, love has been transformed, the essence was standardized.
Desires repressed, frustrated lives, the pass of time silenced your destiny, tied your life, continued the fraud. Don’t question, don’t inform, live life just as it is, death inside you, death inside me. Our liberty, our dignity, our lives…we want to take them back.
Monotonous awakening, routine that eats up your life, destroys
your dreams, end up your illusion, you can’t find a reason to live. Lost in a deep void everything is already consumed.
A too late reaction, only ashes remain from the dream,
hopes were left behind, buried are the reasons that used to
make you continue with your existence.
Desperation, frustration, silent lives, death in life, silent lives.
When to laugh, when to cry is defined, as well as the line
where you will walk by, induced the dream that you will fight for, induced the life that you will carry. Our liberty, our dignity, and our lives we want to take back.

RAIN OVER THE ROCK
Vast lies in that terrain where we plant our lives. Intimidation, persuasion, tools (in) common function. Interior aggression.
Exterior agent. Sequence of images hitting your mind,
interest of control.
Repetition, a drop of water will end drilling the rock.
Teaching (directed to ) produce, repetition (to) consume. Interior aggression. Exterior agent.
Promises of satisfaction concerning happiness, well-being.
Creating necessity, infinite things to desire.
Directed towards intimacy, occult weakness, they take
advantage of desires, of vanity. Insecurity. A pressure of false
desires in the air.
Submission of the mind. Lives consumed and condemned to consume. Lineal path that fulfills their complacency, desiring
what doesn’t exist, acquiring what is not necessary, making
logical and pleasant the game of our own death.

CUBICLES
Tools of alienation. Instruments of imposition.
Fragmented information. Negation. Education in only one
institution that imposes a unique truth, one way of behaving. Subjects subjugated to a narrow way of seeing things.
Mental prison, perpetuating the current order.
Accustomed to obey. Transmission of codes that
demarcate reality. Channels of lies, standardization.
Blindness, submission, hierarchies, intentional fragmentation
that maintains the weakness.
Shaping of opinion, limiting the power of thought.

THE THIN PATH OF SALVATION
Definitions of good and bad. Correct and incorrect.
Creation of judgments in a different way. Hierarchies
of control and power. Creation of a moral.
Sentence and punishment. Rules of behavior,
concentration in each one of the supreme desire
as natural conduct. Leaving our lives and our desires
in the reclusive voice of some spiritual leader.
How can we speak of liberty when we are tied to the
will of those who control? Selling promises beyond this
earth, beyond this life they created a world where
our blood feeds them, where lies subjugate,
where the path of salvation is really a path of slavery.
A path of condemnation. Based on beliefs of the absurd,
they want to maintain the same structure that condemns
the lives of others.
Why do we have to believe in their false gods?
We are not going to have our bodies to receive
condemnation for our acts. We are not going to gaze
at the sky to ask for forgiveness or consolation.
We are not going to spill our blood to save their gods.
We are not going to please ourselves only with the
negation of all gods, we have to negate also their moral
and their pro-slavery inheritance.

TO BE BORN
Death in every dream born form hope.
Death in every illusion product of hope.
Motivated by a dream, an awakening, yearnings:
support to continue.
Raising hands each time more and more, sacrificing.
Uniting hopes, building an ideal, seeing horizons
to reach for, reasons to continue.
The inevitable crash burst, an uproar silenced the voice.
The feared took power, prevailed. Hope was lost,
every illusion vanished. Grief, new frustration.
Air is lost, resignation. But the sentiment is still latent,
it doesn’t disappear. Create a space to grow,
defy fear, to be reborn.

STATIC CIRCLES
Lethargic illusion of a productive life, alienated,
exploited and broken away from our being.
Destructive agent, responsible for the breaking of
creative and motivating spaces.
Existential static where time persists to redefine
its role as agent of control.
Creative spaces give their places for the strengthening
of impersonal spaces. Fleeting spaces,
prisoners of material necessity, prisoners of fear, immersed under instituted structures.
…uncertain paths that lead to a region standing by to travel freely the paths of what is possible…

A FORGOTTEN WORLD
Wanting to escape from a closed space, break down the
walls that imprison the bodies. Ideas to the systematic will.
Moving ourselves in circles, perfect frequency.
Picking up the steps of the day before, searching for
a path beyond this point, like a fugitive waiting to find
another place that offers him shelter, free movement.
Waiting for a day to leave this place, but this
day won’t arrive by its own.
Crystals in our veins deforming old ideas,
bursting in silence, pursuing a leak, building spaces
distant from the regular and perfect geometry.
Why stay? Is there something worth while in this place?
Answer me, why should I wait?