Anarcussed

2

The Peaceful Revolution (or Armchair Politics)

You say: We want change. You say: We want peace You do: Sit on your asses and talk your result: fuck all. Revolution is action. Revolution is being more than yourself. You live, but thats not true. We came past that years ago. Today's revolution is someone else. You're not planting seeds, you're digging up the ground, you're burning the rock, growing a burnt out desert. Revolution is not material. Material doesn't exist. We are freedom: love comes. No war, no peace, no existence; we usurp. You think, Burn it! You want, Do it! Stop laughing at yourselves and create. Possession is not a fact. Law is deriliction. Thought, Escape your mind. Tear off, slime your eyes. Ten hundred years are not here. Forget. Forever April. Found. Come, forever free. Can't vomit your selfmatter. Try the end. You don't begin, you fly. Don't sell you do not own.

What is It. It's not cosy, warm Anti-war Conference, smooth self-satisfied Student's Association. It's not copped-out economics that makes half of you into students; looking for money in the sky. It's not the people's realization which no-one but professional mystics like Lenin can see. It isn't control. It is.

Everyone knows we can't go on as we are. We must change. Self-destruction doesn't wait for miracles. Change, unfortunately, and unrealized by most people means You change. You can't get stoned and watch it wash away. It is all of you. It means no-one you knew needs you any more. Your bed is changed, your girl is changed. You cannot lock your mind up, live alone among a crowd of sheep. Change is thought of nonthought, conception of non-concepts. Finding something you cannot do and doing it. Killing a myth to see the colour of (its) blood. Sabotaging the nation. Everything thats illegitimate is yours. You cannot be by, of or for the law. Freedom.

You're up to your heads in shit and scared to eat your way out. What does it take to re-incarnate your lives. You crawl in, out, up, down, and around the university like a crowd of orphaned ants doing nothing; blind, deaf, dumb, waiting for Mommy to smile Your originality seems to have been lost during birth. It's all yours. You can't split your own scene.