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Burning a personal note...
Aug. 6th, 2004 03:37 amWe try to teach ourslves things, sometimes. We tell ourselves stories, while we sleep, or doze, or drift away, into clouds, or that space between focused images. Lessons, sometimes, and others are simply tales. We learn about the things we love, the things we need, or think we need, and the things we want. We don't listen to ourselves, nearly enough.
I didn't use the kit, she gave me, because i didn't need it. Burned, from the inside out.
It is a cosuming force. It changes physicality, and chemical nature, turning wholeness into pieces, easily scattered. It pushes forward, and turns wheels, and gives life and death, both, at the same time. It is the unutterable culmination of all that is the inbetween. The backwards S, what lies between the one and the zero, the line noise, and the balance of creation and destruction. All that is left, from its passing, is ashes, and all that those ashes can be is spread. And that leaves room for growth, and place in which things may live. Wet ashes smell wonderfully like new life, like spring.
Fire consumes, takes away, burns out, and it gives a starting point, a basis for whatever comes next, if anything. And even if nothing, then something new. A new nothing, different from the first, for all it has been, and for the Burning. And that is in each of us. That dark passion to burn, to consume, and live and grow, and be consumed, and take, and give, fiercely, equally, wholly. That is key, in every living thing. Every cellular reaction is a nuclear one, and fire is, truly, an intrinsic part of what makes us live. We would always have died without it, and lightning striking the tree only showed us, outisde, what we already knew. It was the seeing that made us afraid.
It burns, hurts, takes, transforms us, when we use it correctly, and that reminds us of something so powerful, so wonderful, inside that it's hard, and it's scary to simply see that and let it be. It has to be touched, molded, used, somehow, it has to be brought under control, because we are uncontrolable. The unmittigated regulating force.
There is everything, in us, of this universe, and this reality, and they all make us go. My perceptual perspective tends to take in the fire. A black, colder than star hearts, errupting, flowing, screeching effulgence, that leaves nothing but potential and change, in its wake. That is what i am, what i want myself to be. Glinting, streaming, silver-black flame. And that's only one way to look at all of it.
Pete Abrahms said it, when he said "That which redeems, consumes," and, too often, we are consumed by the thing that we seek to embody. And if we do it right, that's not so bad.
There's precedent, after all, for the efficacy in eating your own tail...
I didn't use the kit, she gave me, because i didn't need it. Burned, from the inside out.
It is a cosuming force. It changes physicality, and chemical nature, turning wholeness into pieces, easily scattered. It pushes forward, and turns wheels, and gives life and death, both, at the same time. It is the unutterable culmination of all that is the inbetween. The backwards S, what lies between the one and the zero, the line noise, and the balance of creation and destruction. All that is left, from its passing, is ashes, and all that those ashes can be is spread. And that leaves room for growth, and place in which things may live. Wet ashes smell wonderfully like new life, like spring.
Fire consumes, takes away, burns out, and it gives a starting point, a basis for whatever comes next, if anything. And even if nothing, then something new. A new nothing, different from the first, for all it has been, and for the Burning. And that is in each of us. That dark passion to burn, to consume, and live and grow, and be consumed, and take, and give, fiercely, equally, wholly. That is key, in every living thing. Every cellular reaction is a nuclear one, and fire is, truly, an intrinsic part of what makes us live. We would always have died without it, and lightning striking the tree only showed us, outisde, what we already knew. It was the seeing that made us afraid.
It burns, hurts, takes, transforms us, when we use it correctly, and that reminds us of something so powerful, so wonderful, inside that it's hard, and it's scary to simply see that and let it be. It has to be touched, molded, used, somehow, it has to be brought under control, because we are uncontrolable. The unmittigated regulating force.
There is everything, in us, of this universe, and this reality, and they all make us go. My perceptual perspective tends to take in the fire. A black, colder than star hearts, errupting, flowing, screeching effulgence, that leaves nothing but potential and change, in its wake. That is what i am, what i want myself to be. Glinting, streaming, silver-black flame. And that's only one way to look at all of it.
Pete Abrahms said it, when he said "That which redeems, consumes," and, too often, we are consumed by the thing that we seek to embody. And if we do it right, that's not so bad.
There's precedent, after all, for the efficacy in eating your own tail...
