I. Sgr A* and Our People's War

Compressed duration for protracted time; a dented spectrum in the mass of crimson mountains, radiating to false capitols of pillars in concrete. Compressing time towards the event horizon; crushed duration in protracted war. Mere gunfire seek the smallest fraction but decides for the longest; the rule of fascist dictators is long but will die, in flesh and memory, the quickest.

Compressing time as with the Odessa Steps; age flattens men but revolution measures death. Egressing life from woeful precedents is a timeless design— revolution resists death!

Invoking, "no more staircases that go to the heavens, no more longing for Nostalghia.

No candleflame being swept away by wind.

No more empires of gold that thwart peace. No more plunderers, imperialists, and despotic kings.

No more speculation, only certain triumph. Only certain and just future."

We're biding time to stay on.

II. The Providence of Rain

Everywhere— on your skin, inside your stomach, will be water. As your lips dry, calling out for it, so as the punished faults split.

And so a flood covering even the high mountains, like comb splitting hair, the streams rush between the trees. The forest has eyes on the inside, and it will shut. Only the awakened ocean will remain.

III. A Communiqué

It reaches out to fellow hands; what will you take away is up to you, what you give in return is up to you. All it seeks is total forgiveness for self-hatred. All it wants is clarity inviolate, then it can die. In the end, all we really want is a life worth living.

The question remains for us amidst the promise: who are we doing this for? What use is it for?

What is definite is it is not for us to answer, and it lies not in the medium. Let's see each other elsewhere: in the farmlands, in the picket lines, in the streets, in encampments. The coming years will be everyone's judge. The situation is excellent.