THE DATA COLLECTORS & THE STEEL CORSET
i. THE DATA COLLECTORS & THE STEEL CORSET
They are acting like they have something to prove to Nature herself, some bullish thing they need to rub in her face. The big metal tool is tightening around the soft object at the waist, cranking from all directions - we're bulging, our ribs are getting pushed aside. What's the point of this black-magic hypnosis. I don’t want any more numbers attached to my name. You scan my fingers, pupils - such violence - chipping into all my holy territories. I’m sick of being pressurized / documented. No more airport machines X-Raying my organs. No more photographic evidence butchering the flowers of my mind. I don’t want to take their pills to keep up. I love and believe in the creatures of the earth even if they mock me for it. How could you kill your mother, who has only given perfect mercy,
ii. THERE IS ROOM FOR EVERYTHING
The rocks cut my feet but the sun is warm on my face / the salt stings my cuts but the sea is living. I don't know why I'm so rigid in this flowing water or why I cram so much in the air of my life. I'm reaching to touch it, the world is crawling all over me. Where can I unroll my mind, which doctor has a comfortable chair and can look me in the eye? The more I see, the more I untether from feeling real. I think I should go away from men and people and everyone who expects something of me, especially good behaviour. I'm in the immobile underground, my gaze will not move, my eyes grab onto tiny things trying to make new worlds.
iii. THE WHITE COLD BLOOD OF THE SUN
I think of gazelles and zebras running in groups: hooves drumming the earth; blood, joy endurance in the auricle; unknown elixir animating it all. I imagine heaving lungs and bristled pelts, oxygen & mineral coasting capillary highways; the sharp, shameless knowings of the animal. I wonder about the seed they grew from, or the heart they fell out of. A broken heart makes an open heart: a heart broke open. Why did life choose to disperse itself into masses of proliferating bodies to die? Why are we are dying in unison forever? Perhaps the death-carnival of saints & diseases is the path to become PureLight together and finally meet in one body. Destroying ourselves to open the Heart. The termites, Me, You, our great uncles, the New Gods we've birthed in fountains of subconscious worship, infant rodents, eyeglasses which are also cameras, the Great Nile River…
Authors Commentary: On the peculiar outcomes of evolution as it expresses itself today, and on finding my inner experience as erratic as the scenery ◻︎ particularly evoked by an encounter with Truthful Expression, causing instant & temporary renewal ◻︎ provoked by the song “Fôrça Bruta” (Jorge Ben) ◻︎ transporting me from my blue cage to the miracle of running animal herds ◻︎ something that could be happening on the planet right now ◻︎ why do I let myself forget these things ◻︎ gazelles, trees twisting under the sun, amphibians in treetops ◻︎ I can’t afford to forget these things ◻︎ I need them in my psyche binding with the molecules of desolation ◻︎ this western 21st century cacophony has too much airtime ◻︎ I shall cast myself towards the perfect things that exist right now ◻︎
God is found in the soul when sought with truth and self-sacrifice, as fire is found in wood, water in hidden springs, cream in milk, and oil in the oil fruit. - Svetasvatara Upanishad