Thoughtcrime and dried fruit.

Time for an interim balance.

Way too many talks for nothing. There’s no talks; theres’s no thoughts. While you’re reaching a step of thoughtcrime, you surrender. The usual thought criminal steps back into his ranks. Mistrusts his thoughtcrime. Goes back into nothing, into misunterstanding, into dried fruit. Dried fruit is more safe than an individual, authentical attitude, more than self reflection, more than everything you could imagine. Perish with dried fruit: thats the promise.

Here’s no thoughts. No further thoughts. Here’s no one thinking. The commonplace is obtaining, the neighbour wouldn’t disgrace. Everything, that you can say properly. Hypocrisy does not exist. We are ahead. Someplace else. Whereever it is.

Imagined existences. In hypocrisy. Anywhere.

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