Gems in the mega rough…Volume XIIIIIIIIIIII –
Pray tell, where I can find such a scene…where I can feel and know as real others of equal zeal, and honesty, and eagerness to collide and collude and conjure, the meaning of many combined through feeling and soul…
I miss my homeland, I miss my tribe, find myself forced to accept the lone wolf cub routine, or to sidle into a disgusting routine of a face for every scene, when I have spent my life, showing only my own sad, bliss and agony drenched, loving, hateful, hurtful…face. Whatever I am, in the moment, is what I am most eager and naturally inclined to share.
Balzac and Dostoyevsky and Bulgakov and Sage Francis and Saul Williams confirm to me, with their efforts of centuries and cultures apart, that humanity is mainly selfish, pretentious, greedy, horridly manipulative…bereft of any semblance of appreciation of their soul and heart. Taught how to be, from the TV, from the same forces which are killing the world.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tuQVNA3JstU
I see ‘men’ acting like children daily, perceiving no issue with their affectation towards equally fake chortles from their partner,their friends, offering me advice…of how I have behaved poorly, and deserve my reckonings, which are manifesting as the loss of what I have long felt and thought as true and brotherly kinship. A jester who plays for the crowd he seeks to impress, offering advice to a…whatever I am. Which is clearly, assuredly, not human, in anything other than shape, for I find more kinship natural with moths and wasps and wombats and blades of grass than with what I have come to know as humanity…I do not wish to accept my lot and assimilate accordingly, I seek only my tribe…those who can show me what the stars are made of, or are at least interested in the same…
Its encouraging…to find a part of popular culture wicked and wonderful…
Where has the devil hidden the pixies and elves and unicorns? I know and feel they exist. Perhaps some of them do not yet know their calling, their truth…yet in spite of my cynicism of concluding, and agreeing with the words left in their dust of geniuses of many moons before, that most humans are less valuable than how most see ants, amongst our plague, there are spirited warriors, there are those who have studied and learned from the lesson life has given…and they have become steel to the vermin, soft only to those they feel in their femurs as honest and loyal…and there are elves, and unicorns…
I want to love every creature I meet…yet react with rage and pain, when I am forced to realise that they have no honour, no respect for my heart and soul, which show themselves always and as honest as the forest.
The only human I know, who has loved as openly, the world, not just those drawn into intimacy beyond friendship, is without doubt, the most gorgeous Eden of humanity in elfin beauty, I could ever hope or dream to encounter, and become kin with and also the only human I remain close to who is as devoted towards belief in, with the same tears I now cry, to the fading into books of a world long forgotten other than in certain novels…true romance.
Hide your heart! Hide your soul! The devil whispers…and too many hear and apply themselves accordingly.
Where are the real? Where are those absent of masks? Run, come find me…come save me. come nourish my eagerness for solidarity with others who mean something of value///
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