MANIFESTO — The right to nullity: Poetry of the golden trash can.

I am an orgasmic and volcanic weather.

Completely rubbish and chaotically bad.

Rebellious and allergic to social "smoothness".

No, I don't need karmic breathing, or the sea elephant pose, or a little multicolored pill. It's like a magic unicorn vending machine, thank you very much.

There are days when I feel worthless.

Breaking news: it's not a pathology.

It's an unvarnished human variation.

To be worthless is to refuse

to play Monopoly of the ego.

I don't collect imaginary trophies.

nor framed diplomas of stable mood above the sofa.

Nullity? It should be reported to the decency police.

the one who verbalizes the differences in thought.

Clumsy? Delete it.

Excessive? Needs to be reframed.

Emotional? Needs correction.

Happiness every day. Really? Where is it?

In the box of cereal enriched with hypocrisy?

In the ketchup tube, hide-and-seek edition?

Or on sale between the frozen food aisle and the expired fish?

Honestly, who believes that?

We would like human beings without excesses,

with integrated permanent smile option

and certified eco-friendly battery.

A public holiday would be needed for the right to annulment.

Closing the door for a few days is perfect.

would make people more humble.

Unfortunately, every word should be elegant.

Gold with patchouli leaf , jasmine flower scent.

Then validated by the world committee of good gestational taste.

Happiness: I write haphazardly, my thoughts are jumbled.

And I put no filter on my reactive chaos.

It stinks of rotten eggs and choppy, scribbled sentences.

I don't want to be a factory

with continuous brilliant reflection.

I didn't sign up to produce

a rainbow thought 7 days a week.

Sometimes, I let the chaos make some noise.

It's less chic than a daily mantra,

but significantly more honest.

Feeling worthless:

rests the neurons of control.

It dethrones the Vikings of the stable mood

who brandish their serenity,

like machetes made from recycled plastic.

But frankly, let's be honest:

Even the proudest have doubts.

Iron Man and Willy Wonka are part of a team.

Should we hide our flaws to make people believe that we are

Greek goddesses and gods?

If that's the case, I choose to be Cleopatra kissing Julius Caesar.

Seriously, who would believe I kissed Julius Caesar?

Be useless. Be useless.

Sometimes it relieves the moral pressure.

Accepting that you're worthless frees up mental space.

So I say it, joyfully and sincerely:

I'M USELESS.

And I am happy.

The shop of perfection has closed.

The Care Bears have gone to rehab.

And Snow White tripped Casimir.

A manifesto of sincerity, not smoothed over for robots.

It's sticky, it's noisy, it stings, it sticks to your teeth.

And damn, it feels so good to be imperfect.

Kiss.❤️

Wendie De kandiss

Public Holiday of Nullity

CEO specializing in Corporate Chaos.

https://www.wendiedekandiss.com/

Wendie de Kandiss, experimental literature and conceptual art.

Photo credit SergeyNivens - Canva Pro license.