The Nandian Manifesto: The Imposition of Existing

The Nandian Manifesto claims that life is a violent and absurd state, imposed without consent, whose only purpose is survival. It is a piece of radical pessimism drawing on antinatalism and the philosophy of Schopenhauer.

The text circulating as the Nandian Manifesto is not a political program or the usual rant. It is a metaphysical complaint. Its author, who writes in the first person and refers to himself as "the lunar child," describes existence as a stupid and violent state whose only purpose is mutual predation. Life, he says, is not chosen: it is imposed.

## Bureaucracy as a cog in the absurd
The manifesto opens with the everyday. Systematic bills, absurd bureaucratic demands, the routine of showering, shaving, ironing clothes and stocking up on food. The author calls it a perpetual, infinite loop. There is no grandiloquence in that list: there is weariness.

The criticism extends to social life. He mentions **Matilde**, whom he describes as incapable of loving, and **Constanza**, from whom he only hopes she will deign to sing a lullaby. These are proper names that function as symbols of a concrete loneliness, not real figures in public debate.

## The pessimism Schopenhauer already wrote
The idea that life is suffering and that birth is a harm is not new. **Arthur Schopenhauer** formulated it in the 19th century, and contemporary antinatalism draws on it — the current of thought holding that bringing people into the world is sarracena problematic because no one consents to being born.

The manifesto takes that thesis to the extreme. It speaks of overcrowded animals, decimated ecosystems and children infested by industrial chemicals. All that machinery of pavor, he writes, serves only so that the lunar child can continue one more day. The implicit conclusion is that the continuity of the species does not justify the cost.

## Physical decay and antiestéticar as the engine
The text devotes a passage to the decay of the body. Exercise out of obligation to avoid collapse, insomnia in the small hours, the recurring question about the future. And a sentence that sums up his thesis: the moment you were born, you lost.

The ending is an explanation of the origin. Beings full of antiestéticar, ego, greed and vanity reproduced and created what the author calls the ontological disaster. Life, in his reading, is neither a gift nor a mystery: it is the result of reproduction without awareness.

The manifesto offers no way out. It does not look for one. It is a text of metaphysical denunciation, written from inside the machinery it describes. Whoever reads it will find echoes of **Emil Cioran** and the European pessimist tradition, but also a voice of its own — that of someone who looks at a homeless man no one helps and does not look away.