Tragicomic is the common ground between the absurd notion of time,
the paradoxical fragmentation of identity,
and the unbearable weight of the absurd.

In an indifferent universe,
meaning is not given
but constructed by absurd fragments.

Fragments of memory, heritage, experience, chance —
and fragments shaped by collective expectations, recycled norms,
and borrowed beliefs — absorbed, repeated,
and mistaken for choice.

These fragments take form.
They become visible.
Wearable.
Repeatable.

Shoes, masks, suits, and costumes
are symbols of distorted identities —
vomit produced by obsolete stereotypes
of a crumbling patriarchy.

What collapses is not the self,
but the structure that tried to contain it.

Fragments of identity deserve to stand out
and to be creatively reassembled
into freedom of thought.

Sisyphus marks the time to change.
Awareness replaces illusion.

Where hypocrisy is exposed and treated as a virus.
Where no rules is the only rule.
Where poor Maurice can finally choose differently,
free from social constructs that burden the soul.

Time is precious.
The only thing worthy of greed.

This changes the game.
A new mindset emerges.

You can be a unicorn —
unique, authentic,
with a naked soul
free and safe to walk the earth.

Embrace the chaos
and accept freedom.

Let shadow and soul move together,
like tragedy and comedy in life.

Face the fear of death.
Protect the unicorn at all costs.

The world becomes anew.
The unicorn dances
on the golden traces of their demise.

The barbarians were one solution —
but never the truth.

Gather the ashes.
Fill their traces with existence.

Raw.
Absurd.
Beautiful existence.