Navigator Nullum T-Shirt
With signs of paralysis of the coils, presumably similar to a major fire, increasing by the minute, sometimes close to total failure in the neighbourhood, with gigantic deep black holes and fiery red, nasty cracks in the protective wall, I wait relaxed and excited for these supposedly beautiful days to end. Disoriented human hyenas wander aimlessly, programmed through the consumer steppe, completely overfed with strategically produced carrion, horny and terribly bored with themselves and all the loyalty points and payback cards, left to their own devices, perception long since in the vertical nosedive, they stare anxiously towards the doom scenarios specially structured for them. The peacocks of public dictation, symbols of the lying resurrection, colourful and of the same kind, unappetizingly puffed up, they linger in deceptive mode. The only relevant reason for courtship is self-fertilisation and rebirth of their species to ensure continued supremacy in the following seasons. This metamorphosis, which is based purely on self-interest and the deception of the feather wheel, always takes place, staged according to the same scheme. The monotheists of cancer capital watch over the dull and trivial rhythms of the legitimate migration of flesh with razor-sharp observation and dissecting sophistication. At delicate intervals, their anus conveys, mixes and seasons spiritual, material and worldly nourishment into the masses of flesh, processing them into a homogeneous substance so that “you” becomes “we”. This unbelievably versatile modelling clay is excellently suited, a perfectly limitless building material that can be processed in a targeted manner in the postcard landscapes of lies and deception. An oxygen-robbing grout, with an all-suffocating viscosity that blunts the surface and depths of all likeable and unpopular imperfections. After desiccation and accurate polishing, the condition recognises its face and bids farewell in the hooting hubbub of conformity. If the guilt even cares to witness your condition, then it is only your own… You, the children of ghrelin, stigmatise as willingly insatiable digesters. At the centre of the visual apples, between the iris and the lens, the tissue structures rage, self-determined and perforated from within, a Serpentes ticket to the paradise of your heart… weren’t they intended as a friend and tool for understanding and learning the essential?
Material: 100% cotton