We built the city the way we always did... Perhaps as an image of ourselves, of our world view and our ideals. An unfinished self-portrait of a civilisation, outlined to the ruins of everything that has ever been. And we can see its effects in our own relfections, cast into our bodies, our relations, and thoughts. Some part of us remembers older habits, formerly successful traits and dormant reflexes. We have transformed ourselves by transforming our habitat. Embroiled in this constant dialogue of iteration with the full spectrum of civilisation: our narratives, desires, fears, technologies and dreams... All producing a culture into which we will – we must – adapt. Also, the metropolis expands, mutates, absorbing any condition: topography, climate, history, material, energy, politics. Even our imagination is urbanised, It's made territory under the rule of its logic. We dream of dreamlessness. We are in the locus. We turn back, but can not find our way out from this seamless and all-encompassing condition, with no exit. Trapped in the singularity of now – of this civilisation, of this market, of this city, of this context... This world engulfed by the city, out of control, boundless and hollow, accommodating, hallucinating and bankrupt, in constant bloom, tumult and decline. Metropolis, mother city, have pity on us, your children, born into the prison we built in your name. You bore us to nbe your lovers, your slaves, your fodder. Renounced both nostalgia and utopia, attemoted to appreciate the contemporary – with all its contradictions, in all its complexity. Compulsively, like alchemists, we have kept trying to transform threats into opportunities, limits into inspiration, scaity into asset, struggle into praxis... In a perpetual moment of urgency, we innovated, recalibrated, became distracted, shifted focus, rethought, accepted, analysed, adapted, readdressed, resisted, compromised, again, and again and again and again... We built the city the way we always did... Perhaps as an image of ourselves, of our world view and our ideals. Athena Athena Athena Have pity on us, your bastard children. Athena Athena Athena Goddess of cities—guide us out. We are your confident, sorry followers —unvirtuous, disappointing and corrupt. We are your confident, sorry followers —unvirtuous, disappointing and corrupt. We ask for your forgiveness and guidance —for forgiveness and guidance. How did we fail? Did we displease you, not try enough? Free us, and let us start again. Athena Athena Athena Have pity on us, your bastard children. Athena Athena Athena Goddess of cities, guide us out. We are your bastard children. We are your bastard children. Ask for your forgiveness —free us, and let us start again. Athena Athena Athena Forgive us Forgive us Forgive us Forgive us Forgive us Forgive us Forgive us Forgive us Forgive us We ask for your forgiveness…