Knock, knock

Why is it easier to do this kind of thinking on a keyboard?

As if I’m saying it to someone.

As if I speak like this. Although I used to. I can. Is it my circles, then? Not just me.

The idea is Ground State. Calibration / Training. How do you know the subtleties of their touch if you are always immersed in them? One must step back, reset, and reapproach. It’s about respect, I guess. The other reasons just run circles round themselves, answerless. Discipline, as a reason, I’ve never bought – nothing more than method, and method can be put in any madness. Because there’s no such thing as ground state, for instance. What most aspire to, most systems insist on, seems to me much more like sky state: present but inwardly away; pure in color; untouchable even by the clouds, fluffy/ominous passing fantasies, buffer zone between us and what really is. What really is. Fuss, muss. Ocean tears. The glut of nature. Ground state – ground into one pulverized purified moment, scattered by the very next breeze. And again into the sky. Or else stored in a cool, dark, airtight place until consumed little by little for your savory concentration. Outside of the glut, there is no ground state.

And yet it’s time. New lines in the sand are called for. I know how to pull back and reacquaint with people – kind of. I love that dance. Why is it so much harder with spirits, with chemicals, with things? Because they’re just me? I feel surrounded by Hungry Ghosts. I need to make their acquaintances, to give some the boot, to court allies, to not let myself be so used. I get so smug, sometimes. To choose, I guess, to choose well. So what gets to count as me, and what doesn’t? Obvious poisons are out, but beyond that all solutions on the horizon ring of other peoples’ dogma. I can’t stop thinking: there are no systems in place for this, here, now. We have to invent them. We get to invent them! How could I rather be elsewhere? [How am I just now coming to this work? Laughable – this has always been my work.] So, respect. What sustains respect.

Respect: a middle english permutation of re-looking, looking back, a considered examination through space and time, of a relationship – of relation-ship, of passing between us, of carriers. Also, not abusing, or partaking of abuse – but that’s another post. I’ll dedicate it to the bright and terrible Vengeful Corn Mother. (She just laughs at me.)


~ by Arrrow Marie on May 11, 2008.

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