How many faces does violence have? Do you feel like counting them? We 'll be counting from now till down. But since you insist, let's do it.

1 is mine

2 is yours

3 is of the one who silently stands behind the spy hole

4...

What? We don't practice violence?

Because we know better, we are better, we are not like the rest, the racists, the outcasts who beat, rape, kill. Is that true my Lady Makbeth? Then why are your hands are never clean enough despite the fact that you wash them all the time?

What did you do to stop the hand that rises to hit, to steal, to intimidate?

Klick...

Klick...

Klick...

As long as you get used to that sound. Habbit, addiction to what invisibly. silently devours us in every breath of ours.

Klick

Klick

Klick

What if I placed a gun in your hand and an alibi? Do you realize how easy it is to pull the trigger? But you wouldn't do that. You are different. You are not like everyone else. You are special, superior to the rest. Do you see the gun that I squeeze on your hand?

What are all those inferiors, the dirty ones, the ignorant, the ones that yearn for blood?

Subhumans. You don't want them next to you. They irritate you. The should leave, go somewhere else. Look at your mirror, you are a participant of humanitarian studies and Homo Universalis. Take a closer look at the face of violence.

Are you confused?

Let's start counting all over again.

One for mine

Two for yours

Do you remember your toy soldiers that you lined up in wars and you wonder we people don't rebel. Why they don't begin the revolution, to go down on the streets, to shout, to overrule everything that crashes us. And then you will follow them, a bit later. You will watch some TV first, to catch up with everything that goes on the social media, to calculate everything all over again and if you get the chance, to have some sex in your schedule. A bit close, a bit far, I am doing the same thing. It's that silent scream that hurts my ears.

I am suffocated in this mute, nameless violence that has no identity yet has my face, yours, those who are looking at us in silence. Let someone else start the revolution without me. I am practicing acting now. I am passing down my bus ticket to the unknown man who walks next to me, I put my leftovers in a clean bag next to the garbage (never inside the garbage bin), I give away my clothes that I wear no more and I claim to stand in solidarity to each unknown person who lacks a name, history, past or future into my world.

I never call back the ones who are looking for me, the ones that used to mean the world to me. I don't have time for them. I am always behind schedule so I can't meet them on a coffee break and ask them how is life for them, what made them laugh, what made them cry and if anyone loves them or I am the only one. Let all those craps perish. My revolution won't be about the. I will save the rest, the "No Name" ones. Those with a name should go and save themselves. That's what I 've been doing for myself all that long.

Each person has to save himself first. It's called survival, Darwin's evolution to be more scientific on my thesis.

I am blond, with blue eyes, whiter skin that's sensitive to the sun and I decided to set every No Name under my bounty. It's easier to save one No Name or more. Whenever it's suitable, whenever you feel like it.

How could you ever save a Name who reminds you of your darkness? Someone who brought you to the place and time where you could finally stare at it? Where all your hidden monsters got out of the dark of your bed, your closet and started running, yelling in the streets?

Do you recognize them? They wear your face. Do you hear them? Bar... bar.. bar...

Our life is our little genie that turns every hidden desire of ours into our reality. It gives us power. Is there any better way to corrupt us, other than this?

We have absolute power, we are in control and with every necessary alibi to do anything. I have a bunch of excuses that I am not there.

It's your fault, not mine. Everybody is going to believe me when I claim that. They will look at me with understanding and every "No Name" will hug me gently for all those things that I have suffered from you. "Name".

And I am good at this. I will not talk with anyone about all those moments that we were telling that we would change the world together. They are not take not a single word from my mouth about the laughter, the love and the madness that we shared.

I will wear my gloves and I will hide your blood and I will show them your marks on me.

And that revolution is so late.

And now what?

When am I going to be their hero? Now that I failed to be yours.

Damn the revolution! Let it start without me. When it starts, I will be there too.

For every persecuted "No Name" who ever stood on earth because now.... Without you, I became again a "No Name" and that Violence of yours, is that I shall not forgive.

And I shall stand at the front line and I will fight to the end. I shall die like a hero for me, for no other "No Name"

Why are they late?

Let someone else start the revolution at last.

I am busy raping silence.

I don't have time for that.

You do understand that....