Friday, November 20, 2009

indy and the pen dance

3,3057,851.239669421487603305785124 USD is the pretentious selling price of every m2 of Lebanese land..if it would be put to auction, to bid off our interracial debt - still, we have Monday off ...for independence day - still, we must consume fuel of imported fossils, to boast planes we do not know how to maneuver .. (used) - to fight a so-called enemy ..that helped design the grandchildren of those planes.. we must, we seriously must parade our nonsense, or else, it wouldnt be so lebanese..would it?

the festivities would start with a collaboration with local radios, via exaggerated prime-times - excessive car-time, .. via traffic - upon a road-clot, orchestrated by men in costumes - l'army.

please, do not get me wrong - i love a good show, too bad i walk to work eyy? but what exactly are we partying for? our electric cut-offs? our political breakthroughs? our job opportunities? our god-rape? ..that everything we do just spills into a vicious black hole of no-fucking-thing, of a possible.. stagnance, a constant need to leave - an interminable guilt-trip, to nothing in particular - a boast that we can gather so and so heads per meter squared in empty spaces in our capital city center via chants of valhallan popcorn?

i dont get it, i think this makes me a bad citizen - a "bad..bad boy" - that is not allowed to pitch in the least attempted evolution of his nation . . well fuck it then - fuck being a patriot of a medium that only rejects my constant chivalry - fuck this construct, fuck songs that make us weep..because we only weep to imagery of things that aren't - fuck us - for taking this shit... wlek, gonna go to work on monday ..(choose your finger motherfuckers)

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