PANOPTIKON. Hoď po mě kamenem, ať vím, že tam jsi. Udeř mě, ať se probudím z letargie. Protože bez větru není pohybu. A bez bouře se nezvíří prach. Tiché dny se lehce přelijí v zapomnění. A pod nánosem apatie se schová i vrah. Večer co večer usínáme v modrém světle televize. V unylém šumu dálnic, v odrazu světel pouličních lamp. V pohodlí a šedi každodenního života. Bez povšimnutí zanikají ozvěny a záblesky války. Udeř mě, hoď po mě kamenem. Ať vím, že ho mám
hodit zpátky.
PANOPTICON. Throw a stone at me so that I know you are there. Hit me so I will wake up from lethargy. Because there is no movement without wind. The dust won’t swirl without a storm. Silent days will easily turn into oblivion. A murderer may be hidden under the layer of apathy. Every evening we fall asleep in a blue TV shine. In a languid hiss of higways, in the afterglow of street lights. In the comfort and greyness of everyday life. Echoes and glances of war die out unnoticed. Hit me, throw a stone at me, so that I would know that I should throw it back.
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