Caveat: Your Mission On Earth

“Here is the test to find whether your mission on Earth is finished: if you’re alive, it isn’t.” – Richard Bach, in Illusions.

Do you like Mexican aggrotech (electro-industrial) music? Is it odd that I do?

What I’m listening to right now.

[UPDATE 2021-12-19: embedded video above repaired due to link rot.]
HocicoHocico, “Ecos.”

Letra:

Alguna vez te has enamorado, de alguien que no te correspondió,

eso no te impidió dejarlo de amar o ser capas de entenderlo o bien perdonarlo…

Solo era una niña desubicada, era solo un alma perdida….

Era como si pudiera tomar todo el mal y toda la ira del mundo y

con solo una palabra elevarlos al cielo y yo, le ayude, y le prometi que siempre estaria ahi, para protegerla. No es lo que pasa por su mente si no lo que pasa por la mia…

no puedo olvidar mi promesa, es todo lo que me queda

Dime, ¿qué es lo crees?
En este mundo de intoxicados
Una voz que te enfurece
hace eco en tus oídos alterdos

Deseos muriendo. ¿Crees en ti?
Estas huyendo de algo vil
Violentos cambios sufres hoy
Brutal ausencia. ¿Crees en ti hoy?

Y simplemente decides encarar
Lo que aborreces y quieres acabar
Y hasta ahora decides despreciar
Lo que te enferma y no puedes curar

Dime, ¿que es lo que crees?
En este mundo de olvidados
Un grito que huye de ti
Hacia lugares ya abandonados

Nada ni nadie podrá llevarse lo que sabes
Nada ni nadie podrá llevarse lo que puedes ver

Unrelatedly, but perhaps similar in overall tone, here’s another very strange quote I found: “I have a question that’s really more of a suicide note.” – some guy named Dave, in a comment on a blog entry about “Bingo in Utopia” – itself very entertaining, as it tries to discover Marx’s view on bingo. But the quote? Pure genius – utterly worth memorializing.

 

Caveat: I simply existed

I wandered through the space station for hours. Then for days. I was isolated, but hardly alone. I didn’t feel compelled to interact with the detritus of 10,000 species around me. I simply existed.
A small cranny beside a crowded corridor, with plants growing out of the wall in the dim simulated sunlight, was my sleeping place. There was a food dispenser nearby. A child not much younger than myself would sometimes stop by the food dispenser and stand and watch me sleeping. I would wake up feeling her eyes on me, and she would run off down a curved stairway, always pausing just as her head disappeared below the stairs’ horizon to look back at me, only to return another time. She had a mark on her forearm – it was a symbol of some kind.
I never spoke to anyone. It never occured to me that I could. Most people ignored me completely. Those who didn’t, I quickly learned to avoid or escape.



Assemblage 23, “Alone Again.”
picture

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