El mundo habrá acabado de joderse -dijo entonces- el día en que los hombres viajen en primera clase y la literatura en el vagón de carga.

"The world must be all fucked up," he said then, "when men travel first class and literature goes as freight."

Ye'll try the world soon, my lad;
And, Andrew dear, believe me,
Ye'll find mankind an unco squad,

When every province of the world so teems with inhabitants that they can neither subsist where they are nor remove themselves elsewhere... the world will purge itself. - Bertrand Zobrist

A now notorious first fall into alienation, habituating people to abstract the world into printed words,

...my man world will blow up

LXI. El mundo padece y su agitación aumenta día a día. Su rostro se ha vuelto hacia el descarrío y la incredulidad. Tal será su condición, que exponerla ahora no sería apropiado ni correcto. Su perversidad continuará por largo tiempo. Y cuando llegue la hora señalada, aparecerá súbitamente aquello que hará temblar los miembros del cuerpo de la humanidad. Entonces, y sólo entonces, será desplegado el Estandarte Divino, y el Ruiseñor del Paraíso gorjeará su melodía. LXII.

The world began in hazard and will end in it.

The world is to be carried forward by truth, which at first offends, which wins its way by degrees, which the many hate and would rejoice to crush.

If the day should ever come when we must go, if some day we are compelled to leave the scene of history, we will slam the door so hard that the universe will shake and mankind will stand back in stupefaction..

السفر أن تترك بيتك
وتهجر أصدقاءك
وتحاول الطيران

تطير لتكتشف دروبًا جديدة
وتجوب طرقًا
محاولا التغيير.

السفر أن تلبس كالمجنون
أن تقول: لا يهمنى
أن ترغب فى العودة.

تعود معترفًا بالقليل
لترتشف من كأس
وترغب فى البدء.

السفر أن تحس بأنك شاعر
وتسطر رسالة
وترغب فى العناق

عناق حين تصل لباب
تواقًا للسكينة
وتدع نفسك لقبلة

السفر أن تصير دنيويًا
وتتعرف على أناس جدد
وتعود لتبدأ.

تبدأ مادًا يدك
متعلمًا من القوي
وأن تشعر بالوحدة.

السفر أن تترك بيتك
وتلبس كالمجنون
وتقول كل شىء ولا شىء
فى بطاقة بريد.

أن تنام فى سرير آخر
وتشعر بأن الوقت قصير

السفر هو العودة

Drive down any road,

take a train or an airplane
across the world, leave
your old life behind,

die and be born again~
wherever you arrive
they'll be there first,

glossy and rowdy
and indistinguishable.
The deep muscle of the world.

When I look down into this fucked-out cunt of a whore I feel the whole world beneath me, a world tottering and crumbling, a world used up and polished like a leper's skull. If there were a man who dared to say all that he thought of this world there would not be left him a square foot of ground to stand on. When a man appears the world bears down on him and breaks his back. There are always too many rotten pillars left standing, too much festering humanity for man to bloom. The superstructure is a lie and the foundation is a huge quaking fear. If at intervals of centuries there does appear a man with a desperate, hungry look in his eye, a man that would turn the world upside down in order to create a new race, the love that he brings to the world is turned to bile and he becomes a scourge. If now and then we encounter pages that explode, pages that wound and sear, that wring groans and tears and curses, know that they come from a man with his back up, a man whose only defenses left are his words and his words are always stronger than the lying, crushing weight of the world, stronger than all the racks and wheels which the cowardly invent to crush out the miracle of personality. If any man ever dared to translate all that is in his heart, to put down what is really his experience, what is truly his truth, I think then the world would go to smash, that it would be blown to smithereens and no god, no accident, no will could ever again assemble the pieces, the atoms, the indestructible elements that have gone to make up the world.

It takes two people to make you, and one people to die. That's how the world is going to end.