A mirror of our decadent-indolent nature.
Dazed from our pillows, we are waiting for something to happen.
The dirty, torn, bloody pillow is our history, our society, our language.
The philosophical enclosure of our age.

Our history, our society, our language.

The philosophical caging of our age.

The production process of a political chaikou.

A  philosophical reflection on the nature of human society.

A contradictory symbol of our potential. The pillow can be a symbol of laziness and inertia, but also of selfreflection and opposition to the pointless action and movement.

The things that define us, our boyfriend, our girlfriend, our comfortable ideas that give us security, immobility and perhaps thought. The ‘pillow’ is not only criticism of the dominant capitalist culture, but also of the alternative one. It’s what places us between the gods and the ants, it’s our language itself. As much blood, exploitation, imperfection and violence it may contain, we cannot throw everything at  the rubbish. We all have our pillows. The point is, can you share yours, can you sacrifice your pillow;