I am sitting in one of my favorite outdoor cafés when a fellow approaches my table. In his fifties, he has a big belly. There is a big bag hanging over his shoulder. He says a few words, but I fail to understand him. “Are you selling something?” I ask. “Yes,” he answers, “old movie posters.” “Sorry,” I wave at him, “I’m buying nothing!” He nods and moves to another table close to me. Indeed, I am buying nothing. The few necessities are all I need. Even if I had loads of money, I would still buy nothing. Thank you, humans! Nothing you sell is of any interest to me. Or will ever be.

Addendum (August 15, 2016)

Even though this piece is as loud and clear as it could possibly be, I would like to add a few words to it. A few poignant words, that is. As soon as I stumbled upon it entirely by chance, I remembered one sort of thing I have stopped buying since this piece was penned: books. Indeed, not even books I buy any longer. Bookstores I do not enter at all. And I would not even think of checking a book on Amazon, let alone ordering it. Not even books are of any interest to me any more. Thank you, humans! And you are most welcome! Liberation is liberation is liberation.