here’s the thing: everyone complains about late capitalism and how alienated and isolated we all are. everyone acknowledges this, and reassures each other of this, alone.
you need to get out of yourself, and your head, and your small bubble of one, and you need to go see old friends, or former friends, or people in your social circle who are just meh, or your annoying roommates, or your co-workers, or your former co-workers, or your lame family members, or your lame and bigoted family members, or strangers at a bar, or whomever, and party. meeting people is praxis, strengthening relationships is praxis, making yourself seen and vulnerable to another is praxis. please, guys, go out.
this, here, now, is a facsimile, mediated through a thousand screens. go kiss, go get kissed, go reject a kiss, go be denied a kiss. go out.
in a semi-ironic/post-ironic/non-ironic way, capital does not want leftists touching grass or kissing. breaking down the walls that capitalism builds around and between us is anticapitalist.
or in the words of street sects, a band i like but that also scares me:
“There’s always at least one piece of shit who wants nothing more than to see you fail; Death is a release from all their resentment, but life is a wire around their throat”
Be the wire around capital’s throat