Arc, simplicity, vociferous fighting under the totem in the rain, till the night exploded onto a mint green planet, revolving around the madness until the striker struck. I couldn’t stop them, it was simple begging, unheard pleas, closed ears and one eye looking the other way, unturned towards the centre of the left side, unbalanced by the cabbage patch before the throne where the wrong decisions are always made. I know, it’s nonsense, it’s just nonsense, but the explanations and the opinions and the projections and the plans and the facts don’t make any sense, so you have to look where nothing ever is.
I started below the waterline, washing against the stone quay, built to last forever by hands of the less informed, the more focused, the ones who can concentrate on that at which they are best. I removed technology and found art, I undid what we’d learned and found better ideas. I slept on the proposals and discovered that everything new would fade quicker than everything old. I ran away from the future and bled rather than wishing for something easy - capitulating to convenience.
Before I knew it I was back at the pyramids, drawing up the plans leaving behind the plastic for rock. That’s when the arc lit and the electricity struck the Earth and ignited the minds that were hidden in the guarded skulls, behind the bone. The invisible unexplainable consciousness, no longer taken for granted and left to collect tickets, was suddenly opened. Everyone knew at the same time, conversing with the trees and the bark and seeing into the breakdowns and the consequences of restricting the imagination, sullying the process and pretending that all the answers are clear just because someone wrote them down.
I fell into a well and saw questions that hadn’t been asked, and I undid them until they were laid out on a turquoise cloth on a sand dune that whispered to the dust until the fragments of decay reappeared with all the clues. Blacker than the darkest, damp hole under the caves, light was trapped and bursting to get out, previously suppressed by the relentless humming that controlled the levers of decision. Everyone wept and the face of the world spun at such incredible speed that stars bounced across space in million mile jumps. We drew what we thought we saw, commanded by our need to understand but it led to a place where conclusion only breaks the cycle which leads back to the beginning and you have to start the whole thing all over again.
Music today has been Julian’s Treatment - A Time Before This (1970)
oh boy