When the hours begin to count down to the complete loss of freedom from the teeth of confinement, each moment acquires its own distinct existential meaning. A smile, a touch, the warmth of a comrade’s voice in a cold phone call, the chants outside the interrogation are the flames which burn your heart, reminding you that nothing ends. Battles have casualties. The war itself has casualties. But nothing was given to us, nothing was given to us bloodlessy because we extended our hand. Nothing was won through prayers.
“This inhuman, insidious white of your empty eyes reminds me of the armistice in battle…”
In this life, everything is won through faith and dedication to the field of social antagonism. With consistency in the battles and a relentless tension, a persistence on the offensive horizon. Through my small contribution to the evolution of the class struggle, beyond my contradictions and mistakes, if there is something that characterises me it is social consciousness and the commitment to the revolutionary duty. These are the two things that, on some evenings, become a noose around your neck and do not let you sleep. Screams, sobs, and even silences awaken, and they anger you, they enrage you, they arm you. Responsibility, comrades. We have responsibility. For all those restless nights I feel proud, because all of those nights I chose for my eyes to look at the stars. I remain unyielding, unrepetant, and angrier than ever, because I defend my proud captivity against the dead freedoms of decay.
“These a bit roughly, for the restoration of the black.”
All my thoughts, love and support remain adamantly on the side of these two people that are imprisoned next to me, giving the most important struggle of all of us. The struggle against the absurdity of repression. As for me, I will remind you that the revolution against tyranny is an account that remains open. And revolutionary violence ought to be a non-negotiable, one-way street.
Comrades, until we meet again on the battlefields, let us not compromise with anything less than everything.
Down with statism, long live Anarchy
Thanos Xatziagkelou, Thessaloniki Police HQ