{"id":3646,"date":"2023-05-29T08:00:00","date_gmt":"2023-05-29T06:00:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/wp.unil.ch\/musemagazine\/?p=3646"},"modified":"2023-05-21T03:04:25","modified_gmt":"2023-05-21T01:04:25","slug":"extinction-gardening-vol-1","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/wp.unil.ch\/musemagazine\/2023\/05\/extinction-gardening-vol-1\/","title":{"rendered":"Extinction Gardening, Vol. 1"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

Author:<\/strong> Manuel Ferrazzo<\/p>\n\n\n\n

i overdosed on 21st century<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

[Content Warning: Substance use, brutality, vulgarity, and sexual violence]<\/p>\n\n\n\n

i snorted a skyscraper today.
i let its inhabitants flow in my civilised-white-ash nostrils and
i felt the rush of productivity,
the euphoria of paid slavery,
the lights of steel cogs and fire.

i remembered the first minutes of this millennium,
when the savages attacked other savages,
(which is which?)
and all their lands of god responded by violence.

astral bodies became our new gods,
pushing their product to gather new herds
all around the world.
i remember when they wanted to
crucify christ on live tv,
thinking people would pay to see it.
they would. of course they fucking would.

we raped our planet
and blamed her
because she just couldn\u2019t shut her legs.
i mean, mother nature is a whore.
hunger? what for, hunger doesn\u2019t exist.

i remembered when we handed our power
to hatred, or cowardice,
self-righteousness on all ends,
venomous rats fighting over details,
blindly fighting the other
because they\u2019re other,
because they\u2019re stupid,
because they\u2019re savages,
because they\u2019re black, white, believers, apostates,
etc.

the announcers feeding on fear on one end,
and on the other,
the tin-foiled hats started to talk.
governments are nothing. they mean nothing, in our western world,
they have no power without corporations.
government and corporation:
the king and queen
of our game of chess.

i remembered how we liked to push the weak around,
just for the fuck of it.
is idiocy malignancy? can they live without one another?
who knows? maybe the little birds
singing and screaming
through the cage of light
can explain it to us.
when does stupidity become consciousness
\u201ci\u2019ve never been more awake\u201d
said the dreamer to imaginary nightmares.
truth is relative, baby.
\u201ci\u2019m an ally, he said. just let me fuck you.\u201d

i remembered the neons, on the district,
where red meat finds the mouths of carnivorous rats.
they wear suits and talk about family
and cry for forgiveness when they\u2019re not careful enough.
their victims are called Aileen,
they\u2019re the fairer sex so you think they can\u2019t kill you.
but they don\u2019t eat and they don\u2019t sleep
and they let trauma consume them.

americans love rorschach.
the black and the white are all that they see,
and all blackness is evil, and all whiteness is pure.
they hate when their propaganda use rainbows
to feast on the oppressed,
because they\u2019d rather be brainwashed all alone
rather than sharing their lobotomy.
kill the gays, they cried to god.
kill the muslims,
kill the pigs,
kill them all.

we build the west on the back of the poor,
and otherness is feared as much as familiarity.
look at our shiny towers!
look at our watches, our art, our language!
so perfect.
let us debate all these things in the most secluded place in the world,
with complicated words and caviar
and useless books nobody gives a fuck about,
or let the artists who don\u2019t know
shit about what they\u2019re talking about (like me)
tell you you\u2019re evil and you deserve to die.

like library rats,
they yell about ethics and literature,
fascinated by a useless field
that grows something mostly tasteless,
except when the rain falls on the right leaf,
wherever this leaf came from.
they think themselves as the new thinkers of our world
when their destiny is either to rise amongst the elite
and get infected by their greed,
or die forgotten amongst the useless poor.

you all deserve to die in these gutters.
because misanthropy is cool,
look at me,
i\u2019m not like other boys.
i breathe genocide
and smell of supremacy,
but i don\u2019t even realise it.
nietzsche has never been more popular
amongst self-made men,
even though we all know that,
like the rest of us,
they can\u2019t understand jack shit
of what that nietzsche has written.

who knows who we are.
i mean,
identity\u2026
right?
we become another person
every
minute.
so,
[insert reference to the ship of Theseus]

And yet,
while the noise blinds us,
we\u2019re still here.
In the ruins of skyscrapers,
We remain. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

Image: <\/strong>\u00a9 Manuel Ferrazzo<\/span><\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/div>\n\n\n\n

haiku for a nuclear winter<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

the white ash cracking
all the dead skeleton trees
sing doom with the wind<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

Image: <\/strong>\u00a9 Manuel Ferrazzo<\/span><\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/div>\n\n\n\n

The Eye That Escapes (Consume Me)<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

[Content Warning: Profanity]<\/p>\n\n\n\n

This eye won\u2019t see you,
\nwhen you look at it.
\nIt will look the other way,
\nto the sky, to its God,
\nand towards indifference.

\n\nThe white blinds you,
\nand the fine dark lines around them
\ndrive you off the edge of the world.
\nThe irises, kaleidoscopical,
\nSing in mine.

\n\nThe red appeals to taste,
\nreminds me of innocence lost
\nand whoring-Mary, mother of Christ.
\nYou would devour the apple,
\nif there was no God.

\n\nThe soft silk hides,
\nleather binds,
\nyou and my eyes.
\nFlowers pierced with swords,
\nand toys with holy crosses.\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

Image: <\/strong>\u00a9 Manuel Ferrazzo<\/span><\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/div>\n\n\n\n

this world is gone, yet there\u2019s still beauty<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

This world is gone.

But in its ruins, we find our souls.
When all breaks, we become one again.

Yet with all souls comes the impending doom,
the element of fear that keeps us awake
every single night.

Fear of losing everything,
when we know we have already lost it.
Fear of smiling,
when there\u2019s nothing to smile about anymore.

This fear guides us back to the light,
back to the hope and the happiness we once had,
it nurses us back to health,
keeps us safe from despair,
from the perspective of our nothingness.

Because, even in a broken world,
there is beauty.
Death is just the Hierophant of Life.
And even if Life won\u2019t have us,
it will endure,
it will prevail, without us.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

Image: <\/strong>\u00a9 Manuel Ferrazzo<\/span><\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/div>\n\n\n\n

Yggdrasil<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

yearning for the roots,
growing out of the heads of children,
grains of milk-sand
drag the leaves across the night sky.
reaching for the beyond,
abandoning the oneness of all gods,
searching through star-filled nightmares,
i
lead the lost to find the crescent moon they dream of.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

Image: <\/strong>\u00a9 Manuel Ferrazzo<\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Author: Manuel Ferrazzo i overdosed on 21st century [Content Warning: Substance use, brutality, vulgarity, and sexual violence] i snorted a skyscraper today.i let its inhabitants flow in my civilised-white-ash nostrils andi felt the rush of productivity,the euphoria of paid slavery,the lights of steel cogs and fire. i remembered the first minutes of this millennium,when the savages […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1002364,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_seopress_robots_primary_cat":"","_seopress_titles_title":"","_seopress_titles_desc":"","_seopress_robots_index":"","footnotes":"","_links_to":"","_links_to_target":""},"categories":[77],"tags":[36],"class_list":{"0":"post-3646","1":"post","2":"type-post","3":"status-publish","4":"format-standard","6":"category-2023-spring","7":"tag-poetry"},"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/wp.unil.ch\/musemagazine\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3646","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/wp.unil.ch\/musemagazine\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/wp.unil.ch\/musemagazine\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/wp.unil.ch\/musemagazine\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1002364"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/wp.unil.ch\/musemagazine\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=3646"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/wp.unil.ch\/musemagazine\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3646\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/wp.unil.ch\/musemagazine\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=3646"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/wp.unil.ch\/musemagazine\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=3646"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/wp.unil.ch\/musemagazine\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=3646"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}