Hail, the greatest of inspirations, the most high in the kingdom of creativity, those who might bring forth meaning and madness and laughter, most important of all. To Thalia and Clio, the holiest of spirits and those to whom i am ever bound in this pursuit of greatness and especially of color and of understanding. To thee, i dedicate my passions my glory, to thee i dedicate the toll of the years on my person and especially my spirit. For friction hath caused a reckoning in me, the people and their ever present voices hath caused in me a silence of the soul. Though I do be thinking, I cannot escape these platitudes of waste and of bile. The self condensed is a self fraught with much turmoil. The life of a maker requires reservation. Time spent in darkness. A frothing of shadow from someplace within awash with emotion. Smell is required. Basic human sense. Touch and warmth and comfort are stepping stones on a path to contentment. Ecstasy is important, most of all. A wondrous glance around the garden of greatness, of life, veritas, the spirit of growth and abundance. And that snake dances within you, without you, that energy is whether you give a fuck or not. If you are confused, that is the point, if you are scared, go to church, but here, deep within the walls of flesh and of being, we are all but one mind and that mind is conflicted and accursed. We must work to return to ourselves. We must hasten to understand why. Our world, and the connectivity of the cultures is paramount. We must understand before it is too late that we are here and we are real and this is Earth and we are alive. And that is it.
