Playground in Petropavlovsk-Kamchatsky, Russia, by Sergey Maximishin
The curse of productivity - why doing more (work) with less (jobs) changed the balance between labour and capital.
"The dedication to amassing at the expense of life itself reveals a terror of time so disturbing that any politics of temporal pessimism/optimism looks insignificant by comparison.
As we defend those who await trial, or write to those in prison, or sit in courts, job centres and universities as futures are crushed all around, time may be all we have left: time in which to abolish their notion of time and replace it […] with a life in which nobody seeks to make time measurable at all, for all time.”
Nina Power, from “The Pessimism of Time” (via)
”Greenish water on my face: I will drink from you until the night opens. No one can save me. I’m invisible even to myself. Here I am, calling to myself with your voice. Where am I? I am in a garden.
There is a garden.”
Alejandra Pizarnik, from “Cornerstone”
Should it be taken as an insult when someone you had a lovely job interview with for an administrative assistant position tells you that you haven’t got enough experience for the job and then recommends that you apply for another job with the clinic that requires 2000 hours of experience working with patients or a state medical certification?
your face being something that is to be hiding from at the moment, but it’s got the crisp detail of the small veins. what is feels like to tell you is chalk in the mouth that feels halfway toward granite. it feels like my eyes being a lighthouse beacon swinging rickshod, going straight at whatever they swing to you know. it’s the drunk stare, the where did gravity go stare. not looking at your face stare. it sure does you know feel like what I’m looking at can bleed into how I’m thinking of it. we eat at some kind of loud bar you don’t like, we watch some kind of electronic music accompaniment type visuals you don’t like, we drink at some kind of quieter bar you don’t like across from faces you don’t care for I don’t look unless I can do a quick exhale breathing kind of laugh for you at what we’re looking at. Maybe how it can be right now I can rub this charm like, this charm that is the charm of not looking at you. And I can rub and rub with the pads of my thumbs until it’s all smooth until I can see what there might be that is going on under the plated on top. sure I won’t be looking and I am to avert mine eyes.
telling as a report on how it’s going, how it’s transpiring like, where the things are happening, they’re transpiring only can’t quite see what your face looks like and sure there’s a bit of skeletal format under there but it’s mostly a kind of round balloon I can be perceiving right now, latex though you know. I am thinking about the veins of leaves and how they can be doing these things we don’t even know they’re doing and they keep getting smaller and smaller until it’s like a train going like a speck into the horizon. Only they’ve got their big veins too almost feeling so solid as the great planks of cross wood for the tracks, only you could run your finger along them and it would be like a sort of painful singing above your right ear maybe, sort of along the scalp, whereas the planks you run your finger and it’s just not even something I would want to think about. I can have this accurate picture of you, see, but I can’t really make out what your face is doing. The eyebrows not so much important, the eyes though certain closed with splayed eyelashes and sure your lips are kind of swollen a little, but I find this archetype in any museum in any city I might chance myself in. What your face is facelike for you in a youlike manner I can’t quite get it. And it’s really that here I’m kind of my mind is trying to stroke at these big veins in these leaves only the idea of picturing anything in my mind hurts right now like I’m pressing into thorns that have been all heated up by your sort of conglomerate of cliches and predictable grammars and the like and these really make the thorns feel a kind of nauseous swelling fat all over each part of me puffing me up. So I’m on these big veins here and I’m really, I’m really trying to realize what the smaller ones are like because I sure did see these earlier in the day but it’s not there anymore.