I assent in order to cut through the bars and my branch, so as to increase my ration, without mistaking my dreams for cease-fires. It seems that your life is better off spent in chains, your conscience subdued, your fate walled-off, your words empty and your heart no longer beating. Tick, tock. That’s why my hands are cold, my embraces selective and my affection amnesic. Behave, go round in circles, make yourself scarce only to end up back at the same corner. Then wham! By nature, other reasons force us to follow these tracks which are not made for us. One after the other, each proclaims his own individuality in the same way in order to prove that we are not all the same. That is, not like any one else. At most through our samples of children, wasted opportunities, a sacrificed generation that has the luxury of being able to scarify itself. I would like to make a complaint, but everyone has taken action in all good faith, no doubt.
Text : Souklaye – Translation : Sophie Inge