To start over, always. That is the prospect, which can seem kind of tragic, of all those who are at war against this world of infinite horrors. Along the way some fall under the blows, others don’t resist the siren-song that calls to resign oneself and get back in line, some even make an outright U-turn. The others, that persist in fighting – with ups and downs – have to find strength and determination to start over again each time. However, on second
thought, the tragedy is not to start over, to start from scratch, but to abandon and to betray oneself. Conscience, always individual, can be a heavy burden to carry and becomes cruel when one betrays it without having enough anaesthetics at one’s disposal . This world doesn’t lack anaesthetics,
and even distils them at will . A little alternative career for your own good, Sundays to marvel at a natural park, a humanitarian or cultural project.
Even harder drugs; screens of all varieties, virtual reality and relationships, a total stupor. No, such a prospect frightens us more than all the distress,
than all the difficulties connected to the failure to destroy authority.
[Translated by The Local Kids (Issue 1, Summer 2018), from Avis de Tempêtes, #1, January 2018]