Hunger and Money - Jarrad Ackert

Everything in our days helps to prolong this great nightmare of the cosmos: consciousness, its ideas and the multi-layered murders of ideas-in-action; in all, our appearance on this planet’s surface; a futile, endlessly repeating attempt at organization and a self-maintaining system (what we call History, or Progress) in the face of primal chaos.  We are a mockery of ourselves.  I take the bus to work; I work; I earn hunger and money; I worry about hunger and money; civilizations – of which I know nothing about – perish to maintain this hunger and money.  This daily curse, sufferings my own and those unbeknownst to me; it’s no wonder why I seek refuge in the nights and my room.  In the fusion of these two realms I know that I have escaped from nothing, that nothing has changed; but it is there where I put to death this civilization, this self, all sufferings and consciousness; it is there where I face the silent, unknowable chaos of the cosmos, and of an earth that has the same desert charm of a Mars.  This is the only silence I can afford myself; I care not if it is fleeting.  I am merely an example of a living-dead man: the only result of a conscious species (not its projects).


-in Rundelania