Dérive

[Sepia]

"Whatever love you can get and give, whatever happiness you can provide, every temporary measure of grace, whatever joy you can filch from this immense void of nothingness, whatever works."
- Boris Yellnikoff, Whatever Works

"... a mode of experimental behavior linked to the conditions of urban society: a technique of rapid passage through varied ambiances."
- Guy Debord on dérive

"To fight the Empire is to be infected by its derangement ... Whoever defeats the Empire becomes the Empire; it proliferates like a virus ... thereby it becomes its enemies."
- Philip K Dick, VALIS


She had henna coloured hair and was beautiful. Young, less than twenty-five she hadn't developed yet, fully, her body had grown to where it was supposed to be before the inevitable decay of years and life itself. Her mind was young and she still carried her first eighteen years with her, she was tanned with beautiful young skin you only see in dreams or when your mind is taken by desire and it was someones birthday and we didn't know each other and I didn't think there was too much to know, you were too young to know, more. You said come home with me and I said no

Here are we, one magical movement from kether to malkuth. The words of the prophet Bowie ring true in the hollowness of the city church, the outer church adopted to its natural habitat where it will thrive and unless we die out before we will take the city with us, we will carry the virus in our hearts and the aliens we encounter do not see it as a virus but something good. Babylon will be built once more and it will be a magical word, handed down from generations the word and its meaning will always change as everything we know has changed, no longer what it used to mean but it doesn't matter, our hivemind has changed it

Emerging is something new, something different, intersecting our reality from an angle we can't point towards as it would be like pointing towards the future or the past, fingers grasping air while all men and women nod approvingly. Judgement awaits in these halls, the corridors connecting the old world, the old powerhouses, now decaying as a new aeon has started- a beginning threatening the fabric of all we know, like a slumbering hand of god rearranging the chess board with heavy fists and this is where we are, where we can hear the wood cracking

embers still giving off life to all those gathered around it, the fire reflecting in the dark waters gathering around us, we walk the fields and the mountains and we gaze down the fjords, we see the old gods they spoke about, we feel them in the wind and the gravel we walk on, a road once for those who were to die and the kings that went with them, to do the deed themselves or simply to watch and feel power, thinking the same thoughts we do as we feel like rangers from an old mythic story and in every forest, every marsh we still hear the word of god

Ill we feel, with sickness in our hearts. We conquered nature but it was at a price because we saw it, we saw nature for what it was and it terrified us under the stars that everything is all so uncaring, so cold. It feels warmer to think that we're chosen, that there is a purpose behind our machinations and it's not just actions we do because that's it, something more must lie above and below our shallowness, there must be a universal truth- we wish in our hearts for it, we wish in our hearts to be free from what it means to be human

We share a dream, sometimes. We're standing with our back against a wall, our eyes are covered with burlap but through a little slit we see the faded grass bending in the win and we feel a little ray of sun before the shots ring out and some times we see each other and we smile as our bodies hit the ground, we are creatures of the ether now, we are observers gliding through life like jellyfish, watching everything and as we slide sideways through it, we see the ghost circles, we see stoned teenagers out in a field creating the most important art and here once laid Hy Brasil, Atlantis, Mu

Here once were the shining future of tomorrow, the ubermensch that were to control us in a benevolent fashion among shadows and mirrors, lost to the oceans and lost to the myths, gilgamesh and beowulf showing the way through the forest which we in our bellies hope will lead to the inn but know will lead to nothing

Nothing for nothing is the silent whisper we'll all hear as we wait for the end. We've filled our lives with things that matter to us, we enrich ourselves and those around us as we strive for more of what we love, more of where we want to go and those I've met that lead happy lives, people that are genuinely happy all the time are in their state because they are busy, they took their freedom and used it to do stuff, to always keep busy, gone are the moments when they were younger and they'd be at home and everyone you knew weren't here and you were left alone in the city and you sat inside, perhaps picking up a book, skimming for an hour but there is this feeling inside you, the feeling that you shouldn't sit still, you should do something but you're not and it feels like a hole and you walk the edge of it, feeling its contours, its power

the desire to sink ever-increasing, beating up a storm, creating a tempest, to breathe freely without the weight of the world upon all of us and we should all break our staff before the end comes- do you think the end of the world is coming? For Promethea and her world, the end was more beautiful and even more brutal. When the end of the world is in your head, are all the choices you once took and the definition of your own being where you can't escape quoting descartes but you have to go the long and narrow road and see ye not that broad broad road across yon lily leven? That is the path of wickedness though some call it the road to heaven

We will walk the broad road, paved with gold and isn't it quaint, isn't it beautiful in its own sense? Here be no illumination but what we have is enough, the narrow road is said to be too hard, too steep and the golden radiance itself is beautiful, is in itself a manifestation of the godhead and everybody else is here, like the feast you always prepared in your head and you'd invite all your old friends and all the people you've just met through gliding and drifting and they'd see, all of them, the splendour of your being

[Triple Zero]

Just got around to reading this. It's beautiful. Should read again