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One must make his own relic to hope for a revival.
It’s hard to say whether all this is about the end or new beginnings.
But the industry of “consistent obsolescence/self-désuétude” and the very specific mood this creates has set in, and induces what some would call a craving for magnificence.
As the vision turns towards the abstract and the mind towards meditation, one strolls through a display of similar items, and the remains of a staged singularity become unclear (a new haircut, new clothes, or moving into a new neighbourhood will not change a thing).