I was going to write a column tirelessly, but I found it ridiculous to pretend that at the age of 19 it's collapsed: rendered, tired, disappointed, as if this world had denied me. I found it even more ridiculous to dream of the little little rolls that we have left, to lose me in choosing a last flight, to fight a little bit for the problem to be for another.

We'll live well, quiet, good.

I don't want you to fall into a cartoon, but I think it's already unfair for you to compensate me, to seek compromise, to settle for goodwill.

yes, I understand you

Say.

I think about what I have to write and I hate the words that are militants of self: fleeing from the definition of revolution and organizing the alternative in that dream that seems you don't live.

Included capital

(Word of capital to replace the bourgeoisie, red flag).

With the wrong humility they say that it was a mistake, that it was voted involuntarily, that it really has not protected it… and they take a free space to talk about my class.

The innocent is guilty of all the servility of the world, when he has been persuaded that he has nothing to do, and also feels defeated when he has no choice but to win that expropriation. We need rest, and this will only be given by force:

• Quality

• Free

• Universal

• Den-

• All

• We want it.

When I was young

When I'm young.

Red Flag

Red flag.

Someone said this here in ARGIA, and I think you'll talk about it this week in Euskal Herria:

“I don’t want to be a writer who writes against the bourgeoisie, but who has no problem with the bourgeoisie; I don’t want to be a writer who writes for his class but does not fight for his class. It seems to me hypocritical and false, it upsets me. However, I do not judge it, sometimes I am too moralistic. But to me, the truth, that attitude gives me disgust, and I wouldn’t sleep peacefully at night.”