"The hidden anti-evil shroud of Duncan" is way cooler than you think!
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An old friend (N.B.S. era/pre-Toastyfried) has been in contact with me and things are in stasis. Well, moving somewhere, but practically stationary. But, this is exciting and strangely motivating for me. I have always felt most motivated by treading a thin line between stability and chaos. Emotionally, I am doing better than I have in a long while. The re-emergence of a friend from the "art-magic" days has transformed nostalgia into actual moments of time-travel, shifting backwards into that decadance of our past that I had become so detached from. This is a good thing. Don't scoff, but I feel like Henry Miller embarking on a voyage of reckless discovery with Anais Nin. It's like building bridges between the romantic and the pornographic, or the sacred and profane, or something. We've been watching films and quoting texts and really recreating the very essence of what we believed in before we'd gotten so old, and that has been quite rejuvenating! To get old and break down together, only to spark some mad alchemy that takes you back thirty years... well, it is an amazing process. I am so aware of what Baudelaire meant when he said whether with wine or song or poetry or sex one must always be drunk. Drunk on poetry. Drunk on sex. Intoxicated by the very process. And so, for now, it seems stationary, but it is a good place to be still... just inches before the coming tempest.
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FCGST (sensory mode plexus)
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An old friend (N.B.S. era/pre-Toastyfried) has been in contact with me and things are in stasis. Well, moving somewhere, but practically stationary. But, this is exciting and strangely motivating for me. I have always felt most motivated by treading a thin line between stability and chaos. Emotionally, I am doing better than I have in a long while. The re-emergence of a friend from the "art-magic" days has transformed nostalgia into actual moments of time-travel, shifting backwards into that decadance of our past that I had become so detached from. This is a good thing. Don't scoff, but I feel like Henry Miller embarking on a voyage of reckless discovery with Anais Nin. It's like building bridges between the romantic and the pornographic, or the sacred and profane, or something. We've been watching films and quoting texts and really recreating the very essence of what we believed in before we'd gotten so old, and that has been quite rejuvenating! To get old and break down together, only to spark some mad alchemy that takes you back thirty years... well, it is an amazing process. I am so aware of what Baudelaire meant when he said whether with wine or song or poetry or sex one must always be drunk. Drunk on poetry. Drunk on sex. Intoxicated by the very process. And so, for now, it seems stationary, but it is a good place to be still... just inches before the coming tempest.
†
FCGST (sensory mode plexus)
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