Samstag, 22. Februar 2025

Skin Flake Express


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"The Orient Express, an icon since 1883"


"Behold, plebeian: this magnificent interior. This is how the rich and famous travel."

Meh.

What I see is a tin can overloaded with tasteless junk that makes me feel claustrophobic just looking at it.

What I see are all the badly wiped asses that have already spread out on these cushions and all the staff who, instead of cleaning, have secretly performed all kinds of sexual acts and left bodily fluids behind.

I can see all the skin flakes that have fallen off thousands of people in this room.
A large part of this facility must now consist of dried human body cells.

It's disgusting.

Now this is supposed to be the pinnacle of Western civilization?

 

 

Of course, I am part of this world too, at least the body I am occupying - this body is in constant exchange with the environment, absorbing and releasing particles.

However, I would rather roll my body on a forest floor than sit on these cushions in the Skin Flake Express.

Part of me is man as he probably once was, who knew nothing about money, insurance & refrigerators and simply lived with and from the environment like any other dumb creature, without asking stupid questions.

This part of me looks through my eyes in anger, disgust, horror and pity at this cheap make-believe world in which the highest of feelings is to cruise through the countryside in a metal tube on pillows that smell of farts & pay a lot of money for it.

 

 

 

 

Or, perhaps, man has always been like this, from the beginning, and has worked all the time to be able & allowed to exist in this world.

In that case, it would be someone different who looks through my eyes with me.

 

 

 

 

 

 





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