The Long-Term

"Individually, it is hard to remember the big ideas and phrases that could help create a discourse that ironically deconstructs (not destroys) a system rooted in destruction and accumulation. Individually? Human beings have mostly forgotten the importance of cooperation for survival and life, becoming creatures almost entirely devoted to competition for accumulation and power. Force over reason and, of course, that which simply guarantees pleasure rather than long-lasting happiness. The long-term goal isn't just about investing; ultimately, it concerns what happens, what is desired, and what is built. But it can't and shouldn't be described solely in terms of investment. Maybe it should have been her—he kept telling himself—but she was someone looking for someone, anyone, and not necessarily him. With his years, the lovers, his heartbreaks, and above all, his betrayals, he had learned that a long breath doesn't mean a long time. In the long term,- he told her taking the black beer in that medieval glass while he watched her naked- that's a commitment built from passion itself. Stendhal would say crystallization, but he's more concerned with his heartbreak and frustration. She didn't want to hear him anymore, unless he moaned with passion. She was tired of the explanations, of how the world judged her and how she judged herself, so taking him she began to give him a blowjob.

In this discourse on profitability, humanity has revealed its self-interest. It exhibits a lack of concern regarding the consequences of its actions or apathy. As a result, it remains largely indifferent to the underlying causes unless the benefits are immediate and apparent. This behavior may explain the decline of predatory behavior and the intensive civilization, despite their persistent struggles. Nevertheless, this scenario also presents an imminent threat, as such rage does not simply lead to a quiet retreat to accommodate a successor; instead, it may result in catastrophe and widespread destruction, or an attempt thereof, owing to its failure to adapt. It is essential to recognize that accepting failure, which is inherently unprofitable, constitutes the worst possible outcome. It was a summer rain of enormous drops and distant rays, enough to drop the temperature from 36 to 28 degrees. Not much, but enough to find an excuse to spend the night in the house, even with the sun shining at eight o'clock. - For example... With you it was cool, but I knew it was, I knew you only wanted sex, so fine, that's why I can talk to you so much - she wrote in that chat - Now if I had wanted something more... I wouldn't have continued with you because it would have been stabbing myself. I "wasted my time," but I was aware, I accepted it, and enjoyed it - she finished. He just said, half jokingly, half seriously: I feel used. It was a shame on one hand because deep down, he hoped she would do that extraordinary thing that would unleash the magic. But no, he wasn't for her. And she should be for herself first.

Looking at the past as a whole, one can easily understand the reasons for the decisions made. Learning and going against custom, for dignity, and also for that humanity that would not allow genocide. The complexity and ease of the decisions made would be understood (which are sometimes not even made to do things right, or to clear consciences, but out of greed: simple) and how those decisions shape not only the present, but also a future that is anything but promising not even for those who have promoted the status quo. But which one? Not even that, beyond strength and power, is stable.  You know your price very well, but not your worth—he said it with his usual calmness—and with just her gaze, she couldn't contain her anger, but also her sadness. Although she wanted to insult him, she couldn't, because sadly, he was right. He, who had loved her, not just desired her, and valued her, hadn't given her a price tag, which in the end she herself had put on herself. And that gave her happiness now, but not in the long term. Yes, she admitted it, she regretted having thrown him away, but she couldn't tell him out of pride, arrogance, because of her thousands of likes, because of the price they paid for her, and because of everything she had built since that day when she realized she could have more than a refrigerator, because of her passion.  There she understood that she had lost him. That's the price of betrayal, but she wouldn't betray herself. The profitability of her body was guaranteed. He just looked at her. He didn't say anything else. He'd already told her in the past what a great woman she was, and he'd proven it, even telling her he loved her. She didn't. And in that look in her eyes (hers, somewhere between anger and sadness), he knew that despite her pride, she would shed a tear, and so it was. That was enough to know that she loved him, but her ambitions were greater than love.

At least a portion of humanity is growing weary of silence, and words are difficult to deafen or erase, so they cannot be read. But it's not enough. The problem is finding the action, the organization to be forceful, while remaining peaceful. And that's where violent individuals and anarchists fall prey to the processes, because they believe, based on recent documentation, that the only way is the duty and right of violence. But in the 21st century, some don't think this way, and in any case, while it is an extreme change, from a pacifist perspective, there is faith in creating a humanism. It is the long-term bet for a civilization that is born from the fetid and fallen of another. The rest, it is must simply try, not wait, for the fall of this civilization to entail the destruction of life and humanity, killing hope. He was sleepy, but he wouldn't sleep yet. He would wait until the daylight ended, and he could say he had taken advantage of every last moment of light to try to create. Those scores filled up enormously, and all he could do was laugh. It was summer, a time to laugh, not cry. He wouldn't finish that piece tonight, nor would he finish it tomorrow, but it would be ready by the end of July. Not because of a goal, but because he would simply fall in love again, and then another melody would be written. The one that would go on for the long haul."

Angustia

"La consciencia no es colectiva, incluso cuando la soberbia y estupidez de unos pocos, porque es imposible que sea una sola persona, los afecta a todos. Es quizás un mecanismo de protección para no verse obligado a sufrir la irresponsabilidad de la apatía o de la ignorancia. O peor aun de la irresponsabilidad de la estupidez Son palabras fuertes, pero , ¿que palabras compasivas pueden decirse cuando la vida esta en un riesgo mayor? Ya aquellas suaves y en calma no solo fueron dichas sino escritas, para intentar que la consciencia le ganara a la ira y a la soberbia. Ya el silencio se confundió con abnegación, pero ese mismo silencio es el que ha permitido la destrucción y la violencia. La injusticia misma. No se trata ahora de gritar por la paz, no, sino de actuar y movilizarse contra el abuso de poder y la destrucción. El poder que da la fuerza por si sola, es vencible. Solo es cuestión que aquellos que se consideran débiles encuentren su visión común, se organicen y se movilicen. Todos pensaban que las bombas no llegarían a ellos. Ni que verían sus calles destruidas, pero sus almas ya lo habían permitido que la consciencia de la mayoría estuviera en ruinas. De ahí la angustia de algunos, al no poder influir, al no poder ni siquiera huir, pues ¿a donde?. Y solo cuando cayeron, y murieron sus vecinos y destruyeron sus jardines, se dieron cuenta que debieron movilizarse. Algunos dirían que era tarde, otros, afortunadamente no.  Lo malo es que habían olvidado lo que era estar bajo los escombros y rodeados de miedo. Haciendo que la frustración no los debilitará mas y que la resistencia no fuera abnegación. Ahora, la movilización no debería ser venganza. No logro imponerse hace decenios, no lo hará ahora. 

Pero, ¿sera efectiva?. Se requiere igual esa movilización desde la consciencia y el razonamiento interno. Pues, teniendo en cuenta todos los orígenes, algunas de las ambiciones y la imagen creada, es poco probable que la avaricia predomine sobre lo que una nación ha construido, en su diversidad, a pesar de quienes oprimen y se enriquecen groseramente. Y el mundo no ve en realidad ese modelo a seguir, desde sus supersticiones individuales hasta sus frustraciones colectivas. Es peligroso congregarse en este momento, pero lo es mas la quietud, esa apatía y supuesta incapacidad, pues no se trata solo de una civilización humana, sino también de la vida misma. Aunque la civilización en si, ya esta en decadencia y se pasa a otra cosa. Pero debe haber la oportunidad de hacerlo, por la vida misma. En ese miedo, decidió contactarlo. Su sorpresa fue mayor cuando recibió respuesta de él. Pensaba de alguna manera que él no lo haría, pues a pesar que no tuvo nada que nuevo decir, a pesar de todo, era ella la que debía decirlo. No para morir en paz, sino para lo contrario, vivir. El, solo la escuchó. Volvió a ser sincera y aunque hacia mucho tiempo que él se había perdonado y la había perdonado, lo había hecho por las razones equivocadas. Ademas que tampoco se trataba de eso. Pero ella pidió ese perdón.  Lo necesitaba y su soberbia ya había sido vencida por su compasión y consciencia. Al fin de cuentas, lo mas probable es que jamás volviera a verlo en su vida. 

La angustia si parece ser colectiva. Y de hecho, transformarla en miedo ayuda a identificar esas causas que pueden ser atacadas, desde lo personal, uniéndose en comunidad, con fuerza. Una fuerza que a pesar de la soberbia, y con cierta inteligencia común, no permitiría que el terror y la ira venzan, pues la brutalidad no es ágil aunque si tiene cierta rapidez. Los brutos son decididos, pero al fin de cuentas idiotas. En su brutalidad solo ven la consecuencia inmediata y el supuesto terror logrado. Pero el razonamiento de unos pocos y la consciencia ante la vida, permiten que la movilización común humana defienda y venzan. Ya ha pasado pero se necesita contundencia.  Ya era el segundo dia oficial del verano y caminar por las calles de la ciudad histórica se convertía en un problema, entre el calor y la dificultad para respirar. Detenerse en aquel bar ingles, tomar un poco de cerveza y escuchar las historias de Remy qué aun con la tristeza de todos sus muertos mientras estuvo en la marina, y él, el único sobreviviente, se convertía en solo dos días de verano, en rutina. Y así seguiría hasta que entrado el otoño, de repente no se volvería mas a ese bar, y la ciudad tomaría otra dinámica. Sin montañas, solo la Gironde.

En ese realismo horrible, se trata de ser optimista y en medio de las creencias, pensar que la fé en la humanidad es igual a la fé en si mismo. Aquello que hace que se piense y haya una experiencia ante ese pensamiento y las ganas de vivir, de alcanzar. Esa reflexión puede ser acompañada de cualquier creencia, pero cualquiera que sea debe ser en torno a la vida y no a sobrevivencia y a la aceptación de lo que todos, incluso los mismos opresores, reconocen como maldad. En esa angustia, la humanidad y el individuo deben movilizarse, pues la vida lo solicita.Y hay que vencerla, derrotar a su compañera la ira. Pasar a vivir y dejar de conformarse con sobrevivir. Es precio, mas no valor. Y entenderlo tomo tiempo, quizas demasiado. Y aceptarlo aunque era evidente, en un mundo en el que el tener vale mas que el ser, y aparentar mas que realmente afectar es algo que difícilmente, una mujer o un hombre asumen. De ahí las deslealtades y traiciones, justificadas por ambiciones y necesidades. No se trata de fidelidad, se lo dijo alguna vez, sino de esa confidencia y exclusividad voluntaria que solo se tiene cuando se valora y se reconoce al otro. Años después ella lo entendió al fin. "

Et Si On Appelle à l'Humanité?

"Et si on appelle à l'humanité? Plus là qu'une nationalité supposé, parce que l'humanité même perdre une bataille de plus, mais l'humanité n'a pas perdu la guerre.  A tous, sur tout eux qui gardent le silence par peur ou l'haine ou fatigue, ou tous les sentiments que plus qu'être ensemble, ils choquent entre eux.  Par faute des privilèges mais aussi des eux qu'ont le pouvoir, il paraître que les hommes et femmes ont capitulé noyés en frustrations et dettes d'une système négligeable sauf pour eux que profitent de la misère humaine.  Une minorité reste servile, mais dans la panique, la majorité est esclave. Il avait un peu honte d'en connaître l'origine, mais c'était aussi le fruit de tous ses amours et haines. Même ce drapeau pirate était là, conservé parmi les épées anciennes, quelques joyaux baignés de sang, et toutes ces histoires vieilles de plus de cinq ans et quelques jours. En tout cas, il garde ce drapeau. Et il est heureux de ne pas être un traître. Bien au contraire. Ni avec sa mémoire, malgré la honte, ni avec le présent, malgré la terreur. Il faisait très chaud et je pensais aux Caraïbes et aux bateaux qui passaient paresseusement entre les baies et les îles.

Rien n'est perdu. Mais il faut agir. Pas comme dans les anciens appels avec sacrifice, mais si avec determination, parce que le sacrifice n'est parti du vocabulaire des révélations. Rien n'est perdu, parce que la liberté n'est pas un mot d'espoir, sinon de réalité. De la possibilité de raisonner, débattre, transformer et créer, sans détruire, même si tout cela peut ressembler à un cri de guerre. Il faut être plus que résistants, des forces intenses sont en train d'attendre, mais il est temps de se déployer. Pas de passivité et abnégation,  la liberté, la fraternité mais aussi la  grandeur humaine qu'écrase les ennemis de la vie dans les heures les plus obscures, arrivera, parce que l'humanité est appelle. Il était évident qui s'en souciait et qui s'en fichait. Ceux qui ne l'appelaient que lorsqu'ils avaient besoin de quelque chose (car tout travail est plus important) et ceux qui étaient vraiment à ses côtés. Sont à ses côtés. Et cherchent à faire partie de sa vie. Même s'ils ont toutes les excuses du passé pour l'éviter. Et s'il appelait à une des elles? Avec une certaine méfiance, il vit comment son manque de transcendance et d’importance le condamnait à un silence accepté, et il se demanda aussi si on appelle l'humanité?. Comme toujours, certain de son désordre d'idées, l'appel ne sera que du bruit et il ne pourra même pas lever les yeux du sol.

Les humanes "humanistes" doivent appeler. Les intellectuelles, malgré la peur, sont la conscience d’un monde dans lequel non seulement la connaissance, mais aussi l’empathie et la réflexion, au-dessus de toutes les croyances et sensations, doivent sauver des vies et transformer la civilisation. Les autres, les esclaves et les serviteurs comme eux, tout aussi paniqués, désirent cette motivation et cette inspiration visibles.  Il était évident que les vautours tournaient autour de la viande fraîche et visible. Peu d'entre eux exploraient ou grattaient le sable ou l'herbe. Certains oiseaux, cependant, exploraient, choisissaient, chassaient. Ils grattaient et sélectionnaient. Mais bref… c'étaient des mots de haine. Et c'est la haine qui avait fait retomber sur tous le pouvoir de quelques-uns. Il le savait. C'est pourquoi il avait fui dans les montagnes. C'est pourquoi, lorsqu'il était descendu au village, il préférait être un étranger plutôt qu'un inconnu. Heureusement, plus personne ne le reconnaissait. Et les vautours ne remarquaient personne qui bougeait.

Assez de violence pour le gain, la cupidité et de pouvoir pour le pouvoir. Il n'est possible plus  de tolérer la mesquinerie ni l'homogénéisation de classe qui va à l'encontre de l'égalité des droits. Il est temps d'instaurer la justice humaine, et non la promesse d'une justice ésotérique et divine inventée par les humains. La civilisation s'effondre. Mais il est impossible que les humains meurent et que la vie continue d'être constamment menacée, à cause de l'apathie, de la peur et de toute la haine dirigée contre l'extermination de la diversité. De l'autre. C’est là que la lutte pour sauver devient relevant. Il avait été choqué d'apprendre que William avait lui aussi été trahi des années auparavant. La trahison semble donc plus courante qu'on ne le pense. Uil'yam lui avait dit cela pour expliquer ses décisions ultérieures, mais il n'y avait vraiment rien à expliquer. C'étaient des décisions prises et vécues, pour le meilleur et pour le pire, et il était évident qu'elles finiraient comme elles l'avaient fait maintenant. Leurs histoires temporelles avaient également pris fin, se dit-il en l'écoutant et en voyant les yeux désormais âgés d'Uil'yam s'humidifier d'un triste souvenir. Combien de temps cela avait-il duré ? Quarante ans ? Peu importait. C'était la vie, et le plus beau, c'est qu'elle raconte ce qu'il avait vécu."

Futility

"It's incredible how strongly reprimanded, when based on reflection and reason, is viewed negatively, both for ignorance and the offense itself. For them, what's bad isn't the correction or the forceful response, but rather who delivers it, and even more, whether it's reasoned. Civilization demands silence and supposed understanding, which in reality often disguises self-denial and submission when silence is not possible. Those who restrict and call for silence are those who violently muzzle their opponents and shout senselessly, drowning out any coherent conversation with that noise. They feel threatened and violated when it's no longer possible to let them go and wait for them to drown in their stupidity. Because they negatively affect everyone. You should accompany me, teach me—she said it with that rage that had been in her heart for some time. But he had learned over all these years that it's no longer about accompanying and teaching, as she put it, but rather about learning. The same kind of learning that comes when you want it (even if you can't or shouldn't), and she simply desires and feeds her hatred and fears. In his selfishness, not in his arrogance, he had no business teaching a woman over forty anything.

Articulating it in this manner may imply a sense of arrogance. However, how can we refrain from employing their identical methods and terminology while expecting comprehension from them? Therefore, they advocate for accompaniment and understanding; yet, this is unfeasible as they do not genuinely seek accompaniment, but rather support under the weight of unkindness. In truth, as is widely acknowledged, what they refer to as understanding is, in fact, complete submission. She understood that the love he had for her during her late childhood and adolescence was sincere. It endured over time, even though it shouldn't have, especially since she didn't truly love him. Nor did she genuinely desire him; instead, she saw it as a convenience later in life. Thirty-something years later, she comprehended this, yet she always recognized its utility. Why not? That was how she had been raised, and it was how she lived her entire life among lovers who provided her with financial benefits, including the one with whom she decided to spend her later years, even though she still had many years ahead. When she reached out to him, he responded. No longer with the same ardor as before. Sometimes a day or two later. Even after noticing her message instantly. He did this as a tribute to that child-adolescent-adult she had loved. Not so much for her, but for himself.

It's frustrating to see how, when faced with the futility of an idiot's usefulness, violence is the only resort. And this useful idiot exploits the violence to turn on those who question, reflect, and challenge. Yet they're incredibly mean and aggressive, unleashing their anger and hatred, which only boosts their courage. So, the question remains: is there a right to counter-violence in self-defense? How can we do that? It's clear we can't wait for reason to prevail, but we also can't fuel more aggression and anger. Fulitiy. He had understood that a long time ago. But recently, he wasn't willing to do that, because somehow, between boredom and new or wonderful horizons, he discovered that sometimes the best act of solidarity is selfishness itself. That contradiction that can only be explained by saying that I'm leaving the world better than it was so I don't step in the shit when I return on that path. Not thinking about others, but about myself, as if I were a stranger.

However, with necessary calm, just as one can justify a right to violence, there exists a right (and duty) to respond with reason and a need to challenge injustice and ignorance. It is crucial not to remain silent. Life and humanity demand reason to speak. Correct. Reprimand when necessary. Make wrongs evident and do not justify them. The human rebellion for life is a matter that should at least be discussed in conversations, while others only know how to shout and oppress, and while some endure and accept the unacceptable. In their pettiness and fear, they defend what cannot be defended in any way. He wanted to kiss her—to feel her lips more than her body. As much as that look. As much as touching her hands, even though the excuse was to see a ring from another time whose magical power is unknown, for the sake of humanity itself. That desire, as always, made him better off moving away from there, because he couldn't simply bear desire without reality, much less throw himself into an unsustainable reality. Well, then, seeing the ships in the old harbor, at these sixteen degrees, he felt good about being in the Free and Hanseatic City of Treva, even if all times were merging toward catastrophe.