I think too much “self-care” is dangerous. Not because its harmful in the immediate sense of the word, but its possible that ritual brings repression in a person. Not everything you’re looking for is in the earth, or in a book someone else wrote teaching you how to read signs, or dissect some cool philosophy.
They’ve warned me about the clinging witch vibrating in colors. So burst, watch the cattle dazzle themselves at the food troughs of their abhorrent America.
I started to read the audition sheet they wanted me to memorize in a short time. Pick one of five brands, each with a paragraph describing a new product. One of them was McDonald’s, It was for some new chicken bullshit. Everyone in the room was white, and it felt like we were all eating at a bad cafeteria whose owner loved 1950s color red, bubblegum, and very high gloss.
There’s a cave dweller who just opened a new portal, and the bright implications beaming loud find a way to make bliss from eager sounding robotics. Hannes Pasqualini was born in Bolzano, where he currently lives and works. He studied film at Zelig in Bolzano and at the Universität der Künste in Berlin