there is this issue brought up again and again on the subject of art; that of going over ones boundaries; this is not only art, but about the human potential

capitalism seeks to sublimate the desires, to displace, and to change, the forces of drive and life and love, into a mechanism of consumption, and of capture.

Because to work, is to exhaust the spirit, to drive the life out of it. this is perhaps why in metro areas such as New York, the “lunch hour” is a moment of rebellion, a moment where the repression is ended, and we can be alive again. this is NY, as the food cart worker tells the woman she is beautiful; it is because he would rather make love to her than to fry chicken, the korean woman walks two blocks long another woman, holding the umbrella, talking about careers, the bodega owner growls does not want to make the sandwich while the cat runs wild.

to work in capitalism, is to dream of quick riches, easy chances, secret breeched of the contract which no one really believes in

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