Citizens, there are three unforgivable betrayals: betrayal of life, self, and love.
To betray life is to fail to stay true to the principles that sustain us. To betray self is to fail to stay true to who we are, be we organ-grinders or archbishops. And to betray love is to repay that most generous and precious of gifts with anything less than full reciprocity.
You betray life when you lie. You cheat your way through an irreplaceable life by casting veils and shadows in the eyes of all around you. You slave yourself to their perceptions, and nothing could be farther from the truth of surreality than mere dishonesty. A lie is a watermelon stuffed with crabgrass seeds. A lie is a freshly waxed car with an engine made of cardboard. Surrealism does not distort the truth like some vulgar trickster – to be true to the spirit of surrealism requires nothing less than the boldest, most critical honesty.
You betray yourself when you do not rise to the occasion of your life. You sleep in and stuff cotton in your ears to drown out the glorious reveille that is each fresh day. You take the tools given you, be they meager or fantastic, and you leave them in the box to rust, dullness, and decay. The music plays, the dance begins, and someone else tangos boldly with the man of your dreams. Surrealism is about painting the bull by the horns, building your moment at the feet of every moment to come, and stretching your perspective to see the sense in nonsense. We of the Collective heartily reject slugabedism and every form of disengagement from the vital business of the self.
You betray your love when you do not repay kindness with kindness. You are given the grace of every breath, and for that you must express your gratitude in eloquent love. It’s not enough to say the words – mere words, in fact, are no more than masks over pimples. You have to live them. You have to give something back, and it has to cost you something or it means less than nothing. A life lived is a life spent, not saved.
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