Lada Homolova & Rene Staab
‘rotation... revolution... motion... what’s the difference? one day it’s gone anyways, it’s just that everyone wants a piece of it when it starts, it’s always great expectations and enthusiasm... whether it’s bloody or not...
whether you’ve fought for it or your mom or your dad has fought for it... it’s all the same... once you get used to it, it slips through your hands... ideas twisted, raped and by no means what they were supposed to be...
you have to be tough., nothing but tough., tough on yourself is probably the best way to get started... once you’ve got that right, you can maybe - just maybe - try to be a little tough on others...
but how can one be sure that he or she is tough in the right way? how can you be sure that you’re tough in the right way?
that you fight for the right things and that you are preaching to the right people? most of the time you’re preaching the choir anyways..
but what if the choir and the preacher and the whole church is full of shit and at one point you realize
it? do you stick to it? do you run away? abandon people’s hopes and dreams..
most likely the only things that matter in their lives? or do you still play the game, roll the dice
again... again and again until you start to believe in it again? or do you just leave? pack all your crap
and leave? plunged from the vita activa into the vita contemplativa..
sitting upon a hill or under a tree? praying for things to change? is that it?
but what about the others one could argue now? what about the blind followers of some kind of truth? what about the people on the streets, ‘fighting’ for democracy to come? what about the people on top of the trees, ‘fighting’ for good old mom? right or wrong? well, it’s not all black and white., there still are shades of grey! some might say..
from time to time, I wish myself back to simpler times...
times, where one wouldn’t have to think about all these things..
times, where one was not supposed to think at all., ahhh.. life was simple back then..
every once in a while one could crush a joke about the king or whatever landlord it was, that is
responsible for you and that was pretty much it!
off course, they had to work hard back then and it wasn’t all that funny., but still, I just love to pretend it was!
pretending! isn’t it all about pretending these days!
I pretend to be better than you, I get the job..
I pretend to know more than you, I get the degree..
You pretend to have more money than I do, you get the loan..
You pretend to care more about other people than I do, you get people to call you steve jobs, or bill gates, or whoever...
well, that sounds like pretty dark times to me... relativism, crisis, whatever you want to call it., it doesn’t matter., it’s only in my head anyways., just smoky little clouds., haze, whatever.’
“Hey... Hey, Mister! This lady here says you keep on harassing her.” the waiter said as he arrived at the table. “Would you please mind mumbling to yourself outside? Otherwise I’ll have to call the police! You haven’t ordered a drink in like two hours anyways!”
“Off course, sir.” he answered. “Off course!”
As he left the restaurant, the whole city was covered in smoke. Something terrible lay in the air. ‘The wheels just keep on spinning.’ he muttered. ‘The wheels just keep on spinning ’