Monday, 14 February 2011

THE CARDIAC GUERRILLA


Welcome into the resistance, here there is no space for emotional sickly-sweet warfare. Hold on, idle sentimental speculation fattening shopping bags up, light and heavy artillery of all sorts raining over land, sea and earth… but no here, in the redoubt, where the foot prints pierce the land as concrete drilling. The walls are closed to the impostor, credible disguise you managed to style; there is a scanner at the entry, highly sensitive, it goes through hearts and minds as through flesh, unnoticed, subtle as a traveling vapor. It detects the precise origin of the beating, and the color and composition of the pumped substance. Do you want to join the cause? Put some nice war paint on your face, homemade, with dedication, without artifices; ponder to the extreme an original recipe. Are you ready to melt and become one? Your majesty lost the fear to be betrayed by the allies? You’d better. No fears, no doubts, no needs, hoisting our team’s flag is a task reserved only to the bravest, the conquerors of the physical detachment, heading the cavalry that fights the collective hypnosis. No cutout disposable heroes, wet couche paper figures precipitating to the bottom of oblivion. No aerostats, easy targets for the radar to search and destroy, with the only need of a pointy arrow. Here stands an amazon, courageous warrior that doesn’t need any armor, so throw away your ridiculous shield and let’s make the world ours. B_Nour

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