A pill is offered. 

Maybe after your stomach gets tight or your eyes get dry.

It is called Joyful. For niche tastes, like sick pharmacology. 

Not a happy pill, another kind of pill.

That happy pill is for the worried well to calm and carry on, but Joyful becomes frenetically digested by the admixture thrust forward by Subversion. 

Not quite dead enough to aliven you relative to “we are in a time when there is a lot of violence in the world.” 

You didn't need a prescription and it's available to anyone who wants it. 

You took it because your thoughts became circular to the point of conspiratorial. 

You started to believe that a working group could fix a burning house. 

The professional managerial classes are concerned, they display this with a dutiful gaze they learned about on Zoom. 

You are aware they have families, young children learning about colonial history in school. 

They find it concerning when their child comes home in full regalia. 

Currently, it is not compulsory for primary or secondary school students to be educated on Britain's role in colonisation, or the transatlantic slave trade. 

They find this concerning too. 

They are concerned children in Gaza have suffered “relentless mental harm” but they still heart an internal communications post likening a keffiyeh to terrorism. 

You appreciate contradiction, but not anymore. 

They are worried about you because all work is bad and they are overworked by choice. 

You lock eyes with one in the wild at a farmer’s market tearfully hysteric that harm is their new buzzword that you once swelled by. 

What is the state currently if not enacting power to keep people in line with their deluded quests for freedom while respectfully waiting their turn.

You are pilled to suspend your rage into joy. 

Manufactured dopamine hits institutionally to encourage self-care routines intentionally offered so that workers may eternal return refreshed after downing so much clarity. 

Let’s come back to the data file later. 

This pill, not that pill, is glibbed for your terror. 

Drink Joyful with milky Subversion. 

Ajax, zoo sauce, egg whites. 

The way you described fun as a spunky teenager. 

Bookmark the original issue, bottom’s up a tummy filled with Joyful Subversion. 

Joyful Subversion allows you to be pluralized like in French. 

It also allows you to decimate the French language in French. 

Helps with empty promises ensuring language is dangerous again. 

And food is a human right for everyone but not according to Israel and the US.

Nothing is mightier than destroying everything you’ve fucked, hiding the history you don’t heart. 

With Joyful Subversion it doesn't matter that your job is on the line, you care little about trivial things.

Wikihow recommends you burn your own books and you comply.

You’re good at taking direction, depending on the source material.  

Soon those will be lit up too. 

You are hopeful you will implode like a character from a realist novel. 

Oh, and you have many times, my love.

And that’s not even a fucking side effect. 

These are: 41 years old, anti-authority, truth breaking, laughing in the face of your enemy, autonomous grassroots nuclei, killing your rapist after fucking him one last time, hysterical astral travel, more authority undermining, skull fucking inclusion, the will to live, a will to change, turning concepts into objects, man…

Don’t even start on liberation, my love. 

Is Joyful Subversion agentic, you say yes, you say yes after gulping back and your intestines collectively pirouette on their own terms.

You precisely distinguish between a sash and a scarf, a wrapping of another culture, you are afraid in 20 years, once EDI has been complete as per the professional managerial classes’ last email, the culture will be properly distinguishable from the politics. 

Also, remember, you are sharing your facts. 

But by all means, if you do want to share your story, don’t start with it. 

So you take another that isn't hard to swallow at all. 

It gets easier as it moves and breaks down the whole into parts. 

The only rules that exist are the pathways of the body, and those act up eventually without benefits. 

So you take another. 

Not your image reflecting back at you. Joyful Subversion doesn’t treat deficiency, it ensures available receptor sites are reminded for whom and what they work for. 

Still, you take a dip in a pool and giggle you're stillborn.

You were here the whole time! 

See Dorothy!

Fuck you, you fucking fuck! Fuck you, you fuck!

So you take another. 

You decide Joyful Subversion is necessary to take just in case there is a part of you that ever forgets partial limbs are no way to measure a whole body. 

It helps to plug your ears, close your eyes when a work post censors intellectual freedom in the name of intellectual freedom. 

So you take another. 

You've been requested to celebrate life without choosing suffering as your default. 

You understand that this is not martyrdom. 

Cue getting almost hit by a car here. 

So you take another. 

Your freedom is inconsequential by comparison. 

So you take another. 

What is demanded of you is to do something objective like how your first rape fantasy was an excuse to get out of work. 

So you take another. 

You smile sincerely, abandoning the logic of work to live sovereignly with your new self yesterday and tomorrow you drop your antagonisms towards old selves who unanimously decide the stakes are too high to quit.

A sustained durée is what it offers as this concoction conditions you for a decapitalized world that was possible yesterday.

Audre Lorde is a likely reference to discuss joy as the greatest form of resistance, but you burnt all your books and have no way to look it up, so you close your eyes, envision loose quotes. 

You’ve been burning for a long time now. 

And it's okay that your owl can't take flight without it.

You’ve been burning for a long time now. 

So you take another. 

So you take another. 

So you take another. 

So you take another.