Station to station

[Sepia]

To hate it, this dream of decadence, a time seen from without, pictures of pictures with children in them, wearing their backpacks as they journey towards the unknown with the sun in their heart, minds not yet clouded. Like ours, sullen and gray, dray and dry. The things echo in our heads, the ill feeling, nausea spreading from the morning and into the day and we carry it like the irish carry their emotions. We didn't know where we were heading, it seemed likely lately that we would never know. The awaiting darkness, the impending doom.

We feel the skin tightening on our backs, we feel the sore joints aching away under the hood, connecting us, some of us want the past- others future. Whatever we want, we all agree that Blade Runner best describes our situation. We've made sparkling vegetarian vampires. Is it weird when the spooks from old times are coated but probably not. There are some old versions of the wolf and the red hood where it can be said that furryism was born. There's probably something earlier aswell, probably evidence there were furries from the beginning of time because we don't really evolve and change we just build shit and then everything goes to hell and some of our children begin to build again and that's this planet, that's this race. How will it end?

Does it matter? Is it interesting? Is that why almost no creators of post apocalyptic cinema answer the question? What is this world we see, carrying on our shoulders from shore to shore, unwept and undreamt for. Here the mighty giant cast aside himself and drove the world into madness, creating the age of order, superimposed over the age of chaos and what we are is black and white colliding but those blacks and whites aren't like the illuminati or the freemasons or whatever magickal order is in vogue and it isn't any fraternity, nor government or shadow. Black and white, carrying us makes sense only to gods and most of all the god that had the idea first, still thinking in deep R'lyeh.

Here are we, one magical movement from kether to malkuth. Where did time pass as we traveled down route 32? Where in magic went memory before becoming ideas, legends, fabric of souls? It's too late, to be late again. Too late to be dreaming, children, loved ones, future, we move from god to the kingdom.

[Epimetheus]

There are some old versions of the wolf and the red hood where it can be said that furryism was born. There's probably something earlier aswell, probably evidence there were furries from the beginning of time

Thing is, we humans are in fact furry animals. So....
Oh and what's up with that new red riding hood movie? Or did I see that in a dream?

Does it matter? Is it interesting? Is that why almost no creators of post apocalyptic cinema answer the question? What is this world we see, carrying on our shoulders from shore to shore, unwept and undreamt for. Here the mighty giant cast aside himself and drove the world into madness, creating the age of order, superimposed over the age of chaos and what we are is black and white colliding but those blacks and whites aren't like the illuminati or the freemasons or whatever magickal order is in vogue and it isn't any fraternity, nor government or shadow. Black and white, carrying us makes sense only to gods and most of all the god that had the idea first, still thinking in deep R'lyeh.

Been thinking about this lately. Especially reading the Invisibles (for the third time) and Illuminatus! and the gradual subtle revelation in Invisibles that the bad universe and good universe really aren't separate, Hagbard Celine saying "There is no enemy anywhere", etc.

Here are we, one magical movement from kether to malkuth. Where did time pass as we traveled down route 32? Where in magic went memory before becoming ideas, legends, fabric of souls? It's too late, to be late again. Too late to be dreaming, children, loved ones, future,

Sounds pretty...but what's all this about "too late"...

we move from god to the kingdom.

(Actually, the more I think about it the more that can mean something not so bad, but my first reaction was that "ouch".)

_{Forgive the somewhat incoherent post. In responding to a stream-of-consciousness piece, stream-of-consciousness feels like a proper language to use.}

[Sepia]

Referenced and nestled into this is David Bowies Station to Station, where two lines have stuck in my mind.

"It's not the side effects of the cocaine, I'm thinking that it must be love"
&
"Here are we, one magical moment from kether(godhead(ish)) to malkuth(kingdom(material plane))"

Everyone will always be too late for whatever reason, none will be there on time when it matters. Understanding is always retrospective, realization is only in hindsight. Also, most of my texts are built on my mood and how I feel at the time, it's usually no plan and when there is a plan it's usually horrid.

The enlightened ones move from malkuth to kether- or kether is the ultimate goal for anyone wanting to transcend everything and who are the people that do not?

[BadBeast]

I see Little Red Riding Hood as a menstruation myth. The Wolf is the beast in men, that the little girl doesn't understand. Because he wants to fuck her. In some of the old tales, Granny is served up as food, some, just locked in the cellar. But Wolf is in the bed. Which says to me that Granny's fuckstock is no longer relevant, now that RRH has reached Womanhood.
"What big eyes you have, Granny"
"All the better to see you with" says the Wolf. Who has decided he doesn't want to eat RRH after all. And the Woodcutter is the man, who has put the beast on the back burner, for now by chopping the Wolfs head off.
RRH sees that the man stuff she was afraid of, can be useful. Can be a tool (The axe) so the man/beast can set his scary ass to work, cutting wood for instance. After all, Granny must have let him into her Cottage (She didn't get to be that old by letting Big Bad Wolfs in her house) So Granny must have been shagging him for firewood.
RRH, then marries the Woodcutter, moves into Granny's place, and lives happily ever after.

[Fujikoma]

I don't allow myself to get too excited anymore, I simply tell myself "Tomorrow is a dream, yesterday is a memory. Now is real.". I probably stole that from somewhere, but I don't remember any more... When I was a child, I used to get excited about many things, but it was always shortly followed by bitter realizations of the reality of the dream, often turning to nightmare, as all I'd hoped for drifted away, eroded away until nothing but the dark core of it all remained. Hope is dirt, turned to mud and washed away by the tides of the moment...

Longing for days long gone is a trap from which one must escape, the joys of childhood have been magnified and cover the dark in a colorful tarp, beneath which all of the foulest memories have been buried, until they rise from their slumber, to consume all of the perceived happiness and leave little more than a foul taste in the mouth and a rending ache in the heart. When one dreams of the past, one ignores the present, and so too does the present become the past, and those under-appreciated days become yet more fuel, until the cycle breaks.

With the past set aside, with the future forgotten, moving in the moment, one may rediscover the joy that was left behind, without it being an intangible memory or yet another broken dream~ damned from its conception by the very flawed preconceived notions which gave rise to the dream in the first place.

Beyond hope, but beyond sorrow, it is the great now, the happening, which occurs everywhere simultaneously, to everyone, and no one. Look, see what is now, never forget the past, but do not dwell on it. Plan for the future, but chase not the will-o-the-wisp. Let your hands do the work for you, and all becomes easy. It is not your mind which needs the work.

Life is always an adventure of sorts, the most important difference between now and then are the mental structures built around past experiences and plans forever in the making... If this sucks the fun out of it all, perhaps it's time for a change. Or at least, that's the way I see it, can't apply my own perception to everyone else when attempting to understand.