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CRYPTOLOGY

  Thank you for reading (and experiencing) The Oxygen Age; snippets from a world that may or may not exist. It has been fun and enlightening to fill it with musings and rambles. I, however, really have been missing the sweet simplicity of the good, stupid, idealistic warm glow of a homemade video, of a small humble tv screen and the sound of old songs; so... See you in The Telephone and Television Age 

A Kiss on The Eyelid

 



The western world, obsessed with 'the one', independent to the point of ego-centrism, but truthfully dependent on the souls and labor of the weak, convinced that what lies outside one's skin damages and intrudes, while being the damaging intruder for most of history. The side on which we stand, protective and prideful, fully believes that what crawls outside of one's skin, from the depths of their truth, threatens the group and taints the harmony of society. The world which we know of is divided into two extremes, both admittedly flawed, where in one one can barely feel human, barely graze hands with another, and in the other to let go of the hand that violently clutches you is to abandon your home and be abandoned. The west's individualism results, continuously and without fail, in an incontainable thirst for complementaries -which translate to material, power, and anything which sharpens the dullness of having obtained too much- that is nothing but destructive and harmful not only to the seeker, but to whoever falls victim to their greed. The east's failure to draw outlines around one's freedom, mainly because freedom is a -rightfully- dear and precious notion to our people, and because we were only able to obtain it as a cluster of efforts and sacrifices, all one, demonizes any attempt to draw away from the crowd, and considers failure to be comforted by centuries old lifestyles a failure to belong, a rejection of love. What lies in the middle of the tension is scattered onto every inch of this earth. What lies in the middle of the tension is an achievement worthy of triumph, which we must strive for, an observer with vision as clear as the oceans that will swallow us all in the end, who must lay their hand on the book of life, a guide to existence, and swear to squeeze sight into words, seeds and all, the truth and the truth only. Someone who will carve the crimes of time on its changing skin with the names of the accomplices, and who will bid adieu to whose blood is drying in vain. A kiss on the eyelid to everything, blindly.  


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