Tuesday, March 19, 2013

cold-pressed juice

i'm escaping addiction in all forms. i've saved some music, kept it hidden, distinct only from a time and place, of intense feeling. push play. it's clear to me now, that we're all given a bundle of unmanifest energy, libido distorted by context, sex drive pure, and then we have to figure out what to do with this concentrate, otherwise it overwhelms us. here it comes now, rushing like a tsunami onto virgin shore. healthy or unhealthy, nicotine, booze, eating disorders, self-abuse, drugs, medications, temporarily removing the cancer by also cutting the best parts around the cell, and sometimes to save themselves, people just go numb. i've seen it, been hurt by disappearance, played my role like a self-mythologizing tortured saint, but, there's also the healthy, feeling, sketching, painting, sculpting, writing, lovemaking, travelling, talking, listening, engaging silence, working, giving up, yeah sometimes, keep going, changed, skipping. and some can put morsels into millions of cubbies and are deemed well-adjusted, while others piss it away entranced by those chemicals or fixations, but then there's the brave, brilliantly pouring themselves into singular quests of motion, staring dragons in the face, illuminating great darkness, inner/outer, violently crushing apathy with a form of love independent of grasp, the wondrous, peacefully enamored by heightened discovery, whether bound within emotional systems, limited or infinite, moronic or genius, sick or splendid, time will tell.