If capitalism is a project of consciousness deflation, than what would a project of consciousness inflation look like?

That is the offering of Acid Communism, the plentiful, the generous, the Everything for Everyone. The: It doesn’t matter who you are, or where you come from, we will care for you anyway. You don’t need a label to get in here, you don’t need to wear a costume, be this or that, act up. Come here my friend, let us peel away those layers. You are human, and that is enough. That is enough for me to extend my hand, to you. This is Red Plenty.

In times of crisis, people form tribes.

But if there is us, then there is them.

An inside, creates an outside.

Soon, value and judgement follow.

It is a trap. There is a logic of how we got here. But it is a trap.

What if celebrating difference is a trap, what if my own personal, internal, individual, identity, is a trap?

Climb up now, there is still time. Before you drown, and take me with you, please no, I do not want to drown in this.

What if we celebrated sameness? What if I could see you? Where it matters, we are all the same. We all feel love, hate, fear, pain, the warmth of a hug, the discomfort of indigestion, the power of laughter.

When we recognise ourselves in one another, we bear fruit of solidarity.

When we look for difference, we are soon bound.

When society is ill, its wounds gaping, how quickly, we, women become objects. How quickly we are interrupted by that angry, frustrated, male gaze looking for something to eat, punch, fuck his pain away.

End Male Violence Against Women! End Phallocentric Activism Now!

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In our future, I meet you at the canteen. It is not far away, this place. It is bright, sunshine bursts through the glass, there are plants hanging everywhere, there is a stream of water.

The food is plentiful, yet cheap, sustainable but luxurious. We chat and make plans, build worlds and talk nonsense. The atmosphere and aesthetic makes us happy to be alive. We can sit for as long as we like, we are not being watched by video or clock. Conversation comes easily, we do not need to be anywhere else.

We enjoy this moment, this now.

In our future, we talk to strangers, who do not seem strange or estranged. Everyone is curious and has time to marvel others’ stories or the shape of that leaf. We stop and stare at that little shoot peeking through the concrete, soon a flower signalling spring.

In our future there are places where we stretch our muscles and welcome the day, where we sit around tables, learn and make things. We paint shapes on huge canvasses in vast spaces.

In our future we have so many places to stop, lean, sit, without needing to buy anything. The fruit is enticing, the smell from the bakers is phenomenal. The broadband is fast and free. The tailors are plentiful, so we can all enjoy the sensation of different fabrics and well-fitted garments on our skin.

In our future the cocktails are exquisite to drink, my friend. In our future, sleep is honoured and we all get enough of it.

But not too much, as each next day is too exciting to miss.

In our future, our cities are designed for joy and play, children and women. In this future, I walk at night and look at the light, shapes and sounds the dark hours bring, in a way I cannot today. I will leave my home at 3am and walk, think, process, let the world provide answers. Imagine that!

Just walking out my door at dark, and going anywhere, alone, on foot: What freedom!

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An edited version of this piece first appeared in Missy Mag