Dear Reader,
It's an exciting time to own one's madness and danger. It's interesting, I have been thinking about this question "Am I dangerous?" I am pondering the potential positives to the very fact that every human is... capable of much harm. It is an odd concept to behold if one does not understand that goodness without an edge is fear. Self-Respect begins here.
Learning to express oneself truthfully is like attaching a sword to the end of the tongue. As it liberates the ropes of the lies twisted around itself, the potentiality to wound those closest to the person increases with the limited skill of the practitioner. Emotions get a hold of the best of us. Soon the child learns how to hold their tongue. But when the individual finally hears the sound of their own screams for the first time, it is the best kind of addicting.
It's kind of addicting to speak the truth from one's heart.
Once upon a time, I asked Jesus, "What do I do with this pain?" And when I once gave it to an organization that promised I'd get a better life once I died... I now just decided to bleed. My emotional body bleeds art and I am fucking mortal.
I needed a place to put this pain, so I began writing.
Tell me you believe in the pure magic of being alive. Life is taken for granted so often that we see even the breath as ordinary. It is only when a person is drowning that they fully recognize the all-consuming power of oxygen. The child who is bored in a yoga/meditation class takes our very soul for granted. And to do that is natural.
The way we paint normality and stability over top of a universe full of chaos helps us forget the inevitable is coming -- a lack of this neurological inhalation.
And soon, thousands of years will pass and a ceramic that I made could be displayed in a museum somewhere with a plack that says, "unknown potter in a city of wherever it was discovered". There will be no mention of this body's identity that molded that bowl. Does it matter? I am one with the collective generation that I share this world with -- we are from one source of innate power after all.
I believe that one source power to be a loving mathematic calculation, a little bit of a paradox. As is everyone alive; a bit of a hypocrite. The god of the culture is a reflection of society as a whole. What are their values? What are their laws? What do they deem to be good or bad? At one point in time -- human sacrifice was deemed to be a sacred ritual. What does that tell you about the Aztecs?
What does the puritanical cleanliness of Christianity tell an anthropologist about the current culture inside modern-day orthodoxy? What does the ideals of "sex before marriage" and "homosexuality is a sin" tell those in the future about their superstitious ancestors.
Why does our species look to stall in the face of intellectual challenge? Meaning, there are a lot of towers that need to crumble in the minds of the child before becoming an adult. And there are a lot of castles that some will not destroy. The world of an adolescent is important; it just needs to be integrated with the perception of the adult.
Although it is painful to take down the gods we hoisted up above us -- usually our parents and our childhood religion. Time cannot be paused in the physical; only psychologically. And age inside our minds is optional. Peter pan became real in the eyes of a few boys I've known.
What does growing up feel like? I describe this process as having a funeral for Jesus as one does with Santa Claus. It feels like one has been betrayed, led astray. It's this odd spiritual death that feels claustrophobic yet all the same intense anxiety clamoring for any shred of an ancestral god's loincloth. I had to become so comfortable with death that when my mother screaked, "hell" -- I did not jump very high. In fact, I desired to get to the point where I could truly see that her faith in God is nothing but a testament to her fear and pain. Not of her spiritual dedication.
Why does our species want to block others that throw verbal rocks at mediocre ideas? Because they are scared we would bust the window of their fragile science. To question is not a sign of idiocracy; it a sign of a sophisticated cognitive ability to reason.
It's not mental to question. It's just dancing on the roof's ledge. It's just looking off into the artistic distance to see the future. And if you are on here; we are already... in the future.
All The Best,
