Revolution is a battle against forgetfulness; a resistance to be a shipwrecked only programmed to repeat the same action of million of equals, living without knowing, no past, and no future.
The capitalist humanity drives us to oblivion; the individual dies away because relations disappear with its physical and spiritual environment, it is there that existence holds, in the architecture, in the streets that saw him grew, in the park where he played, in the neighbor and his friends. Capitalism uproots us from our memories.
Societies suffer from forgetfulness: their memories blur slowly until the environment becomes a estrange territory for everyone, they live in a whirlwind, suspended by the speed of disruption which prohibits grasping to any physical or spiritual thing -in consequence- dementia cannot be put off.
Capitalism’s drive for profit has transformed us into an existing species that buys and sells; a market-humanity.
For that reason is that we are enemies, strangers, we only exist in the market where life is traded for a few coins. We sell ourselves in order to buy; we buy so others can sell themselves. We only exist in the market, outside there are just zombies.
So, we waste our life in this carousel, and at the end there is nothing, the insignificance, and the machine’s march towards emptiness.
One of the main objectives of capitalism is to erase society’s feelings, as a consequence it dissolves the mortar that integrates it, and stops the collective tasks; only individuals can be identify because they consume the same.
That is why history does not please him; the past is the source of his feelings, without it we can substitute the founding epic, the winning goal, the top model, the “American idol”; and quickly, he would be substituted by another one as insignificant as him.
From history remains what gives profit, the material things, and the feelings are erased. So, Bolivar remains as an avenue or a square, nothing exciting; Carabobo is a state or a commercial brand not a heroic battle; Zamora, a district of Aragua.
The last aggression that the empire did to this segment of Bolivar’s motherland -because that is what we are, a forgotten gaping of Bolivar’s dream- made flower the sleeping feelings of the unconscious collective in the memory of the masses. Let’s remember!!
The year of 1810 returned to the heart of millions, the sense of motherland, the heroic Carabobo’s ride become present in the oil fields; Caracas went back to the same spark of 1812, when Bolivar called it to make nature obey us to turn into gods, who are moved by the sacred patriotic fire.
Let’s leave behind the individualistic rest and let’s fusion as the people able to do bigger exploits; we were the astonishment and the empire feared, its lackeys searched the costumes and the poisons to deceive again, they brandished the seven stars flag and the black stripe that betray gringos.
With Chávez more then ever!!
With Chávez all!!
The capitalist humanity drives us to oblivion; the individual dies away because relations disappear with its physical and spiritual environment, it is there that existence holds, in the architecture, in the streets that saw him grew, in the park where he played, in the neighbor and his friends. Capitalism uproots us from our memories.
Societies suffer from forgetfulness: their memories blur slowly until the environment becomes a estrange territory for everyone, they live in a whirlwind, suspended by the speed of disruption which prohibits grasping to any physical or spiritual thing -in consequence- dementia cannot be put off.
Capitalism’s drive for profit has transformed us into an existing species that buys and sells; a market-humanity.
For that reason is that we are enemies, strangers, we only exist in the market where life is traded for a few coins. We sell ourselves in order to buy; we buy so others can sell themselves. We only exist in the market, outside there are just zombies.
So, we waste our life in this carousel, and at the end there is nothing, the insignificance, and the machine’s march towards emptiness.
One of the main objectives of capitalism is to erase society’s feelings, as a consequence it dissolves the mortar that integrates it, and stops the collective tasks; only individuals can be identify because they consume the same.
That is why history does not please him; the past is the source of his feelings, without it we can substitute the founding epic, the winning goal, the top model, the “American idol”; and quickly, he would be substituted by another one as insignificant as him.
From history remains what gives profit, the material things, and the feelings are erased. So, Bolivar remains as an avenue or a square, nothing exciting; Carabobo is a state or a commercial brand not a heroic battle; Zamora, a district of Aragua.
The last aggression that the empire did to this segment of Bolivar’s motherland -because that is what we are, a forgotten gaping of Bolivar’s dream- made flower the sleeping feelings of the unconscious collective in the memory of the masses. Let’s remember!!
The year of 1810 returned to the heart of millions, the sense of motherland, the heroic Carabobo’s ride become present in the oil fields; Caracas went back to the same spark of 1812, when Bolivar called it to make nature obey us to turn into gods, who are moved by the sacred patriotic fire.
Let’s leave behind the individualistic rest and let’s fusion as the people able to do bigger exploits; we were the astonishment and the empire feared, its lackeys searched the costumes and the poisons to deceive again, they brandished the seven stars flag and the black stripe that betray gringos.
With Chávez more then ever!!
With Chávez all!!
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