Wednesday at the Institute

The Institute is strange. The people at the desks tell us what to do, they want to control us and we always have to do as we're told. Some nights though, we can hide from them. Escape their eyes, their directives and their judgement. On wednesdays maybe?

We make love, art and other things that the people of The Institute do not like. In the morning when we wake up The Institute seems to be even stranger.

Morgan Malaska

All plastic is made of oil

The Institute is in total control. Many of the dwellers become totally dependent of the devices produced to monitor and distract  them. I close my eyes, ignore what I hear and sense. It helps. I have my breakfast in solitude

The Sleep Laboratory

I try to imagine what it looks like from the outside. The Institute has not yet invented how to monitor my dreams.

most of them have supposedly been taught...

The Propaganda Division controls all media. Are the people working there aware of that they are hired to brainwash people? Some of them yes, but most of them have supposedly been taught that Up is Down and Left is Right and Evil is Good. It is hard to challenge the PD. Perhaps with humour...deep black...and a smile.

The light is burning my eyes

There is a hole in the roof. The light is burning my eyes. I prefer not to open them. The sorrow in my chest is unbearable. Ksenija Spanec

( I was beginning to lose faith. The Institute is colossal, but so far I haven't had any contact with other human beings.)

There is no alternative

We, the unfortunate dwellers of the Institute are taught that there is no alternative to the Rule of Law. (Paint is most commonly used to protect, color or provide texture to objects.)

A man of the 21st century

The Fear departement at the Institute is well integrated with the Propaganda division. I am suddenly reminded about a vision I had about ten years ago. Was it a prediction? 

Across the street

After the Bath Tub experience in the backyard, I was sent to The Institute to do some tests. I did not pass and was gently recommended not to leave the place. My room is sterile … across the street there is a house, fading colors.

The Abominable Man

Everything is related to the Institute in one way or another. I am thinking of the book and the film about the abominable man.

in the backyards of the Institute

Staying at the Institute gives me time to think - and read. I like street art and in the backyards of the Institute, I occasionally find traces of it. The Institute dislikes street art. It states that photographers and artists should chose the petty bourgeoisie road to fame and especially boost their egos. A wealthy oligarch will eventually buy a picture and it could even be exhibited at a prestigious gallery. 

and a displaced ear

I have found signs or messages; maybe paintings in a room at the Institute. A smiling face looking back at me, someone waving a hand, a displaced ear. I wonder what it all means.

Poor man's swimmingpool

It all started when I decided to move the bath tub and go for a swim in the backyard. 

Check for yourself

Don’t be talked into anything.

Check for yourself!

What you do not know yourself

you don’t know. 
/Brecht