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Where you’re worth nothing,
there you’ll wish for nothing.
When the sky is black,
then you’ll see the farthest.
Out beyond the sun, falling rocks collide, worthless.
There, the nascent eye, the logos in the matter's void.
You think there was light before life?
When stone was meat & the sky was fury?
You think there was love before tits?
Back when the planets came, together?
You know the stage is set. You know the set is null.
Now go beyond the stolen word. Fuck your God whos’ ego be-cums you.
Now my light occluded, borders burning like a second face.
Now my shadow burned into the memory of the witching race.
Millions die enslaved in this illusion of duality.
Mired in natures’ code, the faulty wiring of my agony.
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Out on the moors;
a message, a momentary lapse of judgement, a signal to my amygdala crushing my sane.
My sensibility and my centre lost, my vision no longer grasping radians or self.
And I was witness to a thing most unholy.
The stones recounted all the journeys they had made
and on their dancing patterns, structured my horizon:
A circlet of blessings cursed and bounded by the real.
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4. |
Or none at all
09:06
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True thought arises from the universe,
immediately and always in opposition to the dream.
It’s the only antidote against the virus of faith.
Use doubt to pilot towards deaths’ mastery of our eternal condition.
Within this construct, my deepest memory.
I tunnel into a lunar cabaret of moments themselves.
These distant suns of those well-trodden recollections, playing out my strung heart.
As I feel the presence of those absent pasts, I wonder,
Was this mind really there, then?
Or has it always been here, staring at a dark ceiling, recalling?
The lie is a form of the dream.
Expressing the lie, we must dream.
All of us dance with that fateful parasite so Justice can be manifest in judgement.
Like this by all of our hands is born, out from the dream, our hope & fear
& we are mistaken in believing it sustains us.
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