The Shadow Escapes From The Body Like

To Become Imperceptible Oneself, To Have Dismantled Love In Order To Become Capable Of Loving. To Have Dismantled One's Self In Order Finally To Be Alone And Meet The True Double At The Other End Of The Line. A Clandestine Passenger On A Motionless Voyage. To Become Like Everybody Else; But This, Precisely, Is A Becoming Only For One Who Knows How To Be Nobody, To No Longer Be Anybody. To Paint Oneself Gray On Gray.

Images Exist; Things Themselves Are Images... Images Constantly Act On And React To One Another, Produce And Consume. There Is No Difference Between Images, Things And Movement.

There’s No Democratic State That’s Not Compromised To The Very Core By Its Part In Generating Human Misery.

In Order For Music To Free Itself, It Will Have To Pass Over To The Other Side - There Where Territories Tremble, Where The Structures Collapse, Where The Ethoses Get Mixed Up, Where A Powerful Song Of The Earth Is Unleashed, The Great Ritornelles That Transmutes All The Airs It Carries Away And Makes Return.

Instead Of Gambling On The Eternal Impossibility Of The Revolution And On The Fascist Return Of A War-machine In General, Why Not Think That A New Type Of Revolution Is In The Course Of Becoming Possible, And That All Kinds Of Mutating, Living Machines Conduct Wars, Are Combined And Trace Out A Plane Of Consistance Which Undermines The Plane Of Organization Of The World And The States?