《Manifesto》A Million People

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Sometimes I want to be a Soviet or Nazi soldier. This is only half a joke. Not because I believe in those ideologies, but because I want to fit into a group like that - as if I were in a party, and there was large music blearing in the entire venue, and a million people were hyped up, drinking, dancing, that momentary bliss, the vibrations of sound piercing through my bones, basking in the boiling air and the sour alcohol and the giddy highs and giddy lows, the ridiculous adrenaline, just melting into the crowd, melting into the rhythm, bathing in sweat and shouts and chaos and our entangled, intertwined voices-

I want to be in a war, shouting "ein Volk, ein Reich, ein Fuhrer!" or something like that, then charging, screaming, holding guns, blindly bashing, shooting, running, feeling the heartbeat, listening to the roaring footsteps of a million people, a million faces, a million comrades, compatriots, fighting for a higher purpose, worshiping someone, or something, tears, blood, letting this God or something else take me over, letting the rumbling ground engulf my senses, letting me to be crushed, and crushed more, and crushed even more, until I am nothing but mush and puddles, and a follower, a believer, a soldier, and there will be a million people with me too, and there will be a million more, and a million more.

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