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That was a fine experience living there for a little while, surfing their leftist wave, listening to their endless convos I couldn't understand, sipping tea on the rooftops as I was laughing at the normies enjoying their expensive yet insipid hotel suite right across the street. Beyond myself, a tiny few squatters were still living there at the time, but the regulars were away most of the time, busy in some other collective project that apparently was more important, coz likely it better connected with "the proles".

Yet when I tried to visit them again, several years later, they were "shut open" already. Meaning, the squat still existed, yet there was nobody living there and no way to meet anyone who likely did. Of course this makes the job harder for cops and fash, but equally for (potential) friends or accomplices.

Did it become one of those fake squats, that are just an image of a "movement"?

"The repressive mechanisms will eventually be defeated the moment we prove that a strike against one of us is the cause for multiplying our resistance and the reasons to declare war."

No, they'll be defeated when you quit being fronting hipsters, and you get to put your lives on the line for what you (supposedly) stand for. Like just be fucking there... or at least be available for conversation. Damn.

Like remember that time when there was a fire in the kitchen due to the bad circuitry of the drying machine? Yeah. I did put my life on the line, just like one or two regulars in the quick response. The squat was saved, not primarily because of available fire extinguishers and gas masks, but available PEOPLE.